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A trait that I’ve never grown out of, no matter how many birthdays pass, is my love of children’s books. This is despite the unspoken social rule that we’re supposed to outgrow children’s books once we’re no longer children. But social rules have never made much sense to me - rules like: always make direct eye contact, small talk is fun, and kids should be seen & not heard. They’re arbitrary at the best, and harmful at worst. So, I ignore the unspoken rules, and I order myself books like: These are all children’s books about death, dying, grief, and they tell the truth about topics that make grown adults flinch. Topics that we avoid like the plague. (By the way, that’s another social rule I don’t mind breaking. Apparently, some topics are “taboo” & we’re not supposed to talk about them - like death - but I call BS. We actually can’t afford NOT to talk about these things.) Most of us never receive a proper education about death - what it means, how it happens, and why it is an inevitable part of life. The topic is simply brushed under the rug. Out of sight, out of mind... right? But the truth is, avoiding talking about death doesn’t make death go away. It just makes it harder to grieve the losses and goodbyes when they do happen. That’s why I appreciate these children’s books. They break down concepts that feel complex, scary, and overwhelming, and translate them into simple language, colorful visuals, and stories that make sense. They offer a gentle & coherent experience for the nervous system. This matters, because people - kids & adults alike - are less likely to fear a topic when they can learn about it in a safe & engaging way. If we were to all read children’s books about death, and talk about them with each other… we might become less grief-phobic & death-phobic as a society. 💔 In a grief-phobic society, people show up for birthdays and bachelorette parties, but never check in on the friend who is grieving, because they’re scared to say the wrong thing. 💔 In a death-phobic society, entire families fall apart because people can’t agree on their loved one’s final wishes, and no one ever asked when that person was still alive to answer. The opposite of a death-phobic society is a death-aware society. ❤️ In a death-aware society, we would acknowledge our mortality and remember to live while we are here. We would allow ourselves to grieve, and feel our full humanity in the process. ❤️ In a death-aware society, we would understand our place in the universe. We would be curious about the things that scare us. We would be willing to have uncomfortable conversations and look the truth in the eye. Ideally, these conversations should have started when we were kids. But if that didn’t happen for you, it’s never too late to begin. I dare you to pick up a children’s book about death & grief, and to read it all the way through. I invite you to notice what it brings up for you (and your inner child). Then, I dare you to start a conversation with someone you love - about something real, something beyond the usual small talk. Life is too short to not tell the truth. With care, P.S. Know someone who needs to hear this? Forward it along. New readers can subscribe here. P.P.S. If you’re interested in working together, I’d love to support you. 🌻 For folks who are overwhelmed & burnt out, but too busy for weekly therapy, I offer Nervous System Healing Intensives — three 90-minute sessions, using brain-body modalities (Brainspotting, IFS, EMDR) that go deeper than talk therapy & help you feel better, sooner.
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