Move through your grief as if through water. Clench and kick and tread through its density, feel the salt wash over you, sometimes a raging ocean, thunder and surf, sometimes a glass showing you to yourself. Don’t avoid stirring up the murk, it has wisdom for you too. Listen to it, a shell to your ear, hear the sound of your deepest self, turn your shrieks into whalesong, call the pod to you, and be nestled. Allow them to hold you through this labour, through this touching of the vast, infinite truth. Know that the bright spark of life is the core of each dying.
Sumitra Singam is a Malaysian-Indian-Australian coconut who writes in Naarm/Melbourne. She travelled through many spaces, both beautiful and traumatic to get there and writes to make sense of her experiences. She’ll be the one in the kitchen making chai (where’s your cardamom?). She works in mental health. You can find her and her other publication credits on twitter: @pleomorphic2
Beautiful, evocative and heart-wrenching.