Grief is the price we pay for love.

And I am willing to pay it.

Every time. Without hesitation.

Because a life without the love that creates grief is a life I do not want.

Today we look at what that love left behind.

The garden after the rain.

💎 Crystal of the Day — For growth, resilience, and new life emerging from difficult ground

📚 Resource Roundup — Three companions for the growth that comes through grief

📝 Pause. Breathe. Write — What has grown in you because of what you have lost?

Yesterday we asked: what does carrying grief and joy at the same time look like for you?

The most chosen answer, by 38%, was this: I think integration means the grief becomes part of who I am rather than something separate I am carrying.

One of you wrote something that stopped us in our tracks: "For the first eight years after my mother died, I could not even speak her name out loud without falling apart. Now I can proudly say: yes, I do look like my mom. I only hope to be half the strong, compassionate woman that she was. And smile while saying it."

Another wrote with such grace: "We lost our daughter, a father-in-law, and my aunt almost two years ago. We are finally being able to say their names and laugh at memories. The guilt of being able to remember them happily is gone."

One of you wrote something quietly extraordinary: "I still have joy. I just get saddened that I do not have them here to share it with. But I am going to continue this journey knowing I have the best guardian angel I could ever have had."

And one of you wrote something that is the whole week: "The grief has become a part of the woman I have become, in spite of and also because of my grief. But I am also grateful for the time I had."

We are so grateful you shared these with us.

Today we look at the garden.

Place both hands on your heart.

Take one slow breath.

Say silently: look at what grew here.

Feel your own hands on your own chest.

The depth. The compassion. The love that became larger.

That is the garden.

It has been growing the whole time.

Quick and Dirty, 3 minutes: Complete this sentence: "Because of what I have lost, I am now someone who..." Let the most honest and most generous answer come first.

Go Deeper, 5 to 8 minutes: Look back at this whole week. The grief you named. The lessons you received. The unacknowledged losses you finally gave space to. The way you have been carrying it all and keeping going.

What has grown in you through all of that?

Not the pain. The gifts inside the pain. The depth of feeling. The capacity for compassion. The clearer understanding of what matters. The love that became fiercer because of what you know loss costs.

Write it down. Let the garden be real. Let yourself see it clearly.

Stuff we are seriously loving these days

Since this week has been about grief and the growth that comes through it, here are three companions for the ongoing work.

A book that changed how we understand grief

It's OK That You're Not OK by Megan Devine

Megan Devine lost her partner suddenly and became one of the most honest and compassionate voices on grief available. This book does not try to fix grief or move you through it. It sits with you inside it and tells the truth about what it is actually like. For anyone who has been told to move on before they were ready, this book is a profound act of permission.

A podcast for the continuing journey

Grief Out Loud with Jana DeCristofaro

One of the warmest and most honest grief podcasts available. Jana DeCristofaro and her guests speak about loss, integration, and the ongoing work of carrying grief with grace. Every episode is validating, deeply human, and genuinely helpful for anyone learning to live with loss.

A book for the growth that follows

Option B by Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant

After the sudden loss of her husband, Sheryl Sandberg and psychologist Adam Grant wrote one of the most honest and research-backed books on resilience, grief, and post-traumatic growth available. It is warm, practical, and deeply validating for anyone who has discovered that they are stronger than they thought and that something unexpected has grown in the aftermath of loss.

The sky’s current mood, and maybe yours too

The Moon is waning in Cancer today, moving gently toward next week's New Moon in Cancer on July 14. A Cancer Moon in its waning phase is tender, inward, and deeply feeling. It honors what has been. It holds memory with care. For a day about looking at what has grown from grief, a waning Cancer Moon is the most fitting possible companion. It carries everything Cancer loves, home, memory, the people and things we cherish, and it moves toward the dark before the new beginning. This is the exhale before the next breath.

Venus in Virgo brings a quiet, attentive energy to the day. Venus in Virgo shows love through noticing. Through the small, careful acts of tending. Today she is asking you to notice what has grown. To tend to it with the same care you would give something precious.

Mercury retrograde in Cancer continues to hold the past present. Memories are surfacing. Feelings are arising from places you thought you had moved past. Let them. They are not interruptions. They are part of the integration.

What this means for today: the sky is tender and inward. It is holding this week gently as it closes. Let it hold you too.

Rainforest Jasper is the stone of growth, resilience, and new life emerging from difficult ground.

Its extraordinary green patterns carry the energy of the forest floor after rain. Of the extraordinary capacity of living things to push through difficulty toward the light. Rainforest Jasper is associated with the cycles of nature, with the understanding that what appears to be death is often just a season, and that what seems like barren ground is often full of seeds waiting for the right conditions.

For a week about grief and a day about growth, Rainforest Jasper is the perfect closing stone. It holds the frequency of the garden after the rain. Of life finding its way through even the most difficult ground.

Try this: hold Rainforest Jasper and ask: what has grown in me through this grief that I would not have grown any other way?

Reach for it when:

3-8 minutes to see what comes up

Quick & Dirty (3 min): Do you ever hesitate to post because you’re scared of judgment or not getting enough likes?

Go Deeper (5-8 min): List three reasons you want others to like or approve your posts. Don’t hold back—write honestly, no filters.

Read it or keep scrolling — either way, it’s here for you.

Today, be grateful for the garden.

For every quality that grew in you through difficulty. For every depth that opened because something broke you open. For every way you became more yourself because you survived something.

The grief was real. And so is this.

Both are true.

Both deserve to be honored today.

May you look at your garden today.

May you see clearly what has grown in the ground where the grief fell. The depth. The compassion. The fiercer love. The presence. The capacity for feeling things fully that the loss cracked open in you.

May you honor both the grief and the growth with equal tenderness.

May you keep choosing love, knowing what it costs and choosing it anyway.

And may you know, on the days when the grief is loud, that the garden is still growing.

It has never stopped.

P.S. We made this because most spiritual content made us feel like there was something wrong with us for being tired, messy, or not “high-vibe” enough. If this made you feel a little more human today, that's all we wanted.

💌 Pass it on

Know someone who needs to see their garden? Forward this entire week to them. Start with Monday. Tell them it is worth showing up for every single day.

📬 We love hearing from you

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