Saturn returns are a sort of spiritual boot camp. They occur roughly every 29.5 years and are characterized by pivotal personal change and transformation. Saturn returns ask us to grow, to claim our inner authority, and to become more of who we truly are.

Any loss can trigger grief and all loss begins a three-part process of transition. Knowing how to navigate these transitions is key to creating a bigger, better next chapter.

This past week I received two newsletters. The first, from writer Maria Popova in her exceptional weekly offering, Brain Pickings, shared an excerpt from author Katherine May’s book, Wintering, about the quiet, difficult seasons of life and how to allow them. The second, from Eileen at our local, fabulous bookstore, Rebel Heart Books, described the loss of her husband’s parents to COVID-19 in February.

We’re almost there my friends. We’re at the finish line of 2020: the craziest, weirdest, most tumultuous, contentious, painful, scary, exhausting year that most of us have ever seen.

One of the most difficult challenges in this being human business is facing what is. This is especially true when what is, sucks. I’m talking about times when life presents you with things you didn’t order and don’t want: like everything in 2020.

I live in Southern Oregon, in the valley where, a few days ago, two towns burned to the ground in one of three wildfires that surround our beautiful valley. It's worse, even, than the fires we had in 2018. Or 2002. And those were dreadful.

Two weeks ago, I was about to get to writing a little something about gratitude for this newsletter when the unexpected randomness of Life happened. My companion, Baci (whom you may recall from his recent celebrity appearance in this column) had a disc rupture, leaving his back legs paralyzed.

The solstice is almost here! I always count the days to Solstice because at that point, the light will begin to grow again. Even though it won’t be obvious that the light is returning for many weeks, I know it in my heart, and that makes all the difference.

It’s been two months since my last communication and I feel compelled to catch up. A lot has happened, the first and most significant of which affected all of us here on the West Coast. No, I’m not talking about the demoralizing implosion of the San Francisco Giants and the subsequent, equally depressing success of the Dodgers

It seems everyone I talk to is dealing with something serious and vexing. Maybe it's life at middle age. Maybe it's living in a toxic and stressful world. Maybe it's just the roll of the dice. I don’t know. But I do know that such levels of suffering provoke some serious contemplation.

I am in the midst of writing my second book, a guide to grief. To this point, I have been referencing my past experiences with grieving as I share thoughts on how to grieve and why it’s so vitally important. It’s been from the vantage point of “I’ve been there and now I can look back and give you the lay of the land” perspective.

How do you get through a festive season when you're not feeling festive at all? If you are in the midst of grief, the holidays can be an especially tough time. Mourning a loss during this season of joyful celebration is an exercise in endurance and suffering.

It’s sad to think that we need guidance in how to grieve, how to be with someone who has gone through a loss when it’s as basic as The Golden Rule: treat others as you would be treated. Simple as that sounds, we don’t do it.