“Healing doesn’t follow a schedule — it follows the heart.”
Grief doesn’t move in a straight line.
It loops. It spirals. It pauses. It surges when you least expect it.
You might feel lighter one day, only to collapse the next.
You might go months without crying, then weep over a single sentence in a book.
That’s not regression. That’s reality.
Healing isn’t a staircase you climb.
It’s a field you wander.
Some days you find wildflowers. Other days, thorns.
You’re not doing it wrong.
You’re simply grieving like a human — imperfect, sacred, nonlinear.
Let go of timelines. Let go of comparisons.
Let the path unfold beneath you, even if it circles back sometimes.
Each return is not a step back — it’s another chance to touch what still matters.
Sit comfortably and close your eyes. Picture your grief not as a road, but as a spiral — wide, vast, gentle. Say softly: 'Even if I return, I return wiser.' Let that truth soften your breath.
Look back at something you wrote, created, or felt earlier in this journey. Notice how far you’ve come — not in straight lines, but in depth. Honor every twist and turn. They’re part of the map now.
Devon A. “I used to feel like I was 'getting worse' when the tears came back. But reading this reminded me — I wasn’t worse, I was still healing. I let go of the pressure to be better every day. That’s when I started to feel peace.”
Healing is a circle, not a checklist. Let it move how it needs to.