06/26/2025
Death Comes…
Death doesn’t only arrive when we lose a person. It comes in many forms.
A pet. A relationship. A season. A part of ourselves.
This week, I said goodbye to something so deeply sacred to me - my higher heart alchemy crystal singing bowl. One of the very FIRST bowls I welcomed into my life. We’ve been together since Feb 2017. I didn’t just play this bowl for others’ enjoyment, I allowed her to hold me through my grief, my expansion, my awakenings, my return to myself.
It found me in a cave of grief, post-divorce, when I was learning how to re-emerge, how to breathe again, how to guide myself back into the light. Its language was one of cleansing, anchoring, expansion. It didn’t just emit frequency, it created space for healing.
And then, just like that…
A soft pop.
A blind fracture.
I held my feelings close as there was someone else in the room. I pressed them to the back of my throat and swallowed HARD. I tucked the grief away - I didn’t want her to feel responsible, SHE JUST ATTENDED HER VERY FIRST SOUND BATH!
I got this.
It’s no big deal.
It was bound not happen at some point in time.
I sat in my car and reverted to my trusty “let’s fix it, not feel it” state of mind, and messaged my dear friend/store owner to tell her what had happened. I need a new bowl, what do you have? When is the new shipment coming?
And she responded, “Oh my Valerie, I’m so sorry that happened. A broken heart bowl.”
A blind fracture - my heart.
And then, it poured out. An unlocked, intense surrender and release, of MANY things.
I cried for days.
Grief comes in waves. And this time, it came with an open tenderness.
There was no resistance. No story of “it shouldn’t have happened.”
Just a deep, essential sadness, and a gentle acceptance.
This bowl is teaching me (again) about impermanence. About what it means to love something fully, knowing it will change, knowing it will leave, knowing we might have to let go.
I may repair it, alchemize the cracks, maybe a quiet life where it’s no longer played but still held with great reverence in my space. She will let me know; I know this much to be true.
Have you ever grieved something that others might not understand?