Issue #192: How Do We Deal with Everything Going On Right Now??

Finding vitality in grief.

📚 The Echoes by Evie Wyld: The hauntings in Wyld’s latest novel are both literal and figurative. Hannah lives in London, in the same apartment she shared with her boyfriend Max, now a ghost trying to work out why he is still here as she is overcome by grief. Told in short chapters that dart between Hannah’s life in London and her childhood in Australia, Wyld’s novel is a timely accompaniment to today’s post, all about the secrets and grief we can’t run from.

📺 ‘Étoile’ on Amazon Prime: The latest creation from Amy Sherman-Palladino (“Gilmore Girls” and “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel”) sends us deep into the world of ballet (again, for those with excellent memory). In it, two ballet companies in Paris and New York swap their top ballerinas, in an effort to revitalize each company—plenty of wit and lots of trans-Atlantic cultural clashes abound.

🎧 Lost Notes: Groupies: If ‘Almost Famous’ is as burned into your brain as it is in mine, you’ll love this podcast series, which delves into the lives of the women who worshipped bands, and even shaped music, becoming rock icons themselves.

Today’s issue is the final April installment of Plant Studies, ahead of our community conversation tomorrow on Zoom! Though not necessary, I recommend that you read Part 1 and Part 2 before beginning this final issue. x

When the Grateful Dead announced their recent residency at the Sphere in Las Vegas, my boyfriend, a lifelong Deadhead, immediately bought tickets for us. On our first night there, we arrived early to claim a spot on the floor, weaving past keepsake mugs and Sphere-emblazoned merch, in our tie-dye. We settled in and struck up a conversation with a pair of best friends in their twenties, who had met in college.

Early into our conversation, one of the men confided in me that he was heartbroken from the recent end of a seven-year relationship. His friend was about to get married, and I sensed they hadn’t spoken much about the breakup. Throughout our long wait for the show to begin, he disclosed his pain just as quickly as he retreated from it, “At least I don’t have to go to art galleries with her anymore.” Once the music began, I noticed that any time he seemed to lose himself—in the music, the visuals, his emotions—he pulled out his phone to either record a Story or use ChatGPT to translate the lyrics, distancing himself from the process of emotional catharsis Dead shows famously facilitate.

Setting the scene, me as my Dead Head alter-ego

Honestly, I think we can all relate to this experience. Grief is profoundly destabilizing. It shatters our sense of safety, and so we reach for anything that might keep it at bay or give us the illusion of mastery—looking up lyrics, rather than listening to them; diving into work or scrolling, rather than allowing ourselves to truly miss someone. This becomes increasingly difficult when it feels like grief is pressing at the edges of everyday life, with each new headline. And yet grief, terrifying as it may be, is an invitation to live more deeply, in touch with the full breadth of the human experience; to make sure we don’t miss it.