Making Space for Shadow, Sadness & Slowness in a World that Demands Bloom
After 100 Days of Community and a two-week break that was anything but restful (hello testing accommodations, homeschooling, and parenting in real time), I’m back. And I’m blooming—in my own damn time.
This conversation is for anyone who’s watching the world burst into color and asking,
“But what if I’m still gray?”
“What if I’m not ready?”
“What if blooming hurts?”
Let’s talk about it.
Recap
This episode came from the deep place in my spirit that’s still tender after 100 Days of Community—and still blooming in its own time.
We talked about:
Why your bloom might not match the season around you
How grief is both a wound and a ritual
And how slowing down is not resistance to progress—it is the progress
You are not behind. You are not broken. You are blooming in your own rhythm.
Three Takeaways
These aren’t just insights—they’re invitations.
1. Bloom Season Isn’t Always Blooming for Everyone
You’re allowed to feel off-cycle. The world may be blooming, but your body might be asking for quiet. That’s not a failure—it’s a season.
2. Grief is Not a Disruption, It’s a Cycle
We don’t heal by bypassing grief. We heal by honoring it—again and again, in waves, in whispers, and sometimes in full collapse. Grief is compost. It feeds your becoming.
3. You Are Allowed to Move Slowly, Even Now
Urgency is a tool of supremacy. Your slowness is sacred. Your rest is real. And decolonizing your healing means reclaiming your right to pause.
Bloom Season Isn’t Always Blooming for Everyone
Spring can feel like pressure.
Your feed is full of people “soft launching” their businesses, their gardens, their new selves.
And you?
You might be dealing with grief that doesn’t align with the flowers outside your window.
You might be holding sadness that doesn’t match the season.
Capitalism and supremacy culture flatten time.
They force us into productivity cycles that dishonor our actual bodies.
They reward performance over presence.
But healing? Healing is seasonal.
And your nervous system, your grief, your truth—they don’t follow the Gregorian calendar.
Not everything blooms on schedule. Not every flower opens in public.
Some blossoms happen in the dark, in the quiet, in the still.
And that is holy.
Grief is Not a Disruption. It’s a Cycle.
Grief is not the opposite of progress.
Grief is progress. It is release. It is reverence. It is the sacred rot that makes new life possible.
Think compost.
Think breaking down to build new roots.
Grief doesn’t obey logic. It doesn’t care about your to-do list. It arrives when it arrives—and the most liberatory thing you can do is make space for it.
Grieving is not weakness. It’s not regression.
It’s proof that you have lived. That you have loved. That you were open enough to be touched, and brave enough to let go.
I’ve grieved relationships that ended years ago.
I’ve grieved mothers and memories and missed chances.
I’ve grieved old versions of myself I outgrew, and younger selves I never got to be.
And still, I grieve. Again and again.
Because grief never comes once.
It arrives in waves—each one carving a new shore for you to stand on.
Slowness Is Sacred
There is no liberation without rest.
No healing without softness.
No becoming without stillness.
In a world that confuses urgency with importance, slowness is a form of protest.
Slowness says: I will not abandon myself for the timeline of capitalism.
Slowness says: I can care deeply and move gently.
Slowness says: I bloom when I’m damn well ready.
And sometimes blooming looks like breathwork instead of a business launch.
Sometimes blooming looks like crying in your car.
Sometimes it looks like rearranging your kid’s closet so they have a safe space to regulate.
Sometimes it looks like showing up to the community you’ve built, not with polish, but with presence.
You Are Not Broken. You Are Blooming in Rhythm.
This season, I’m giving myself permission to be a late bloomer.
To bloom inwardly. To bloom imperfectly. To bloom with grief still clinging to my petals.
You are not behind.
You are not broken.
You are on your own sacred timeline.
And when we honor that, when we stop forcing ourselves to bloom on demand—we create room for a different kind of growth. A rooted one. A real one.
One that doesn’t ask us to leave parts of ourselves behind just to appear “healed.”
Practice Your Praxis
Choose one area—Self, Home, or Work—and try one of these this week:
Self:
Write a letter to a version of yourself you’ve been grieving. Honor what they gave you. Say goodbye if it’s time.
Home:
Create a quiet corner or altar space that holds your grief—photos, objects, candles, scents. Let grief live with you without overtaking you.
Work:
Resist urgency. Choose one task to delay or delegate. Say “not now” and protect your nervous system.
Bonus: Add one act of softness this week. Just for you. Just because.
Accessibility Note & Gratitude
Special thanks to Lisa Mendez for reminding us that healing spaces must also be accessible spaces.
While live captions aren’t yet available on Substack, the replay does generate automatic captions—and I’ve reached out to Substack again to advocate for live caption integration.
Lisa, thank you for speaking up. Your ask was not just for yourself—it was for every person who needs this work in a format they can fully receive. That is community care.
If you need support accessing paid content due to accessibility barriers, please email me directly for a scholarship. No one gets left behind in this work.
More Resources and Fun:
June Work: Radical Self-Love & Racial Shadow Practice
Join the June series on Patreon:
Meditations + Racial Shadow Work for White-Bodied Folks Leaving Supremacy Culture
This month-long guided practice is for white bodied people who are ready to move from awareness to action, grief to growth.
Led by myself and
👉🏽 Patreon.com/desireebstephens
Cinema & Conjure: A Sacred Screening Experience
Get your ticket for our next community ritual + film night!
Our first session kicks off with Practical Magic—a beloved tale of sisterhood, magic, and reclaiming power. We’ll gather for a guided conjure practice, discussion, food pairings, and ritual reflection.
📍Held in Atlanta | 🌑 Limited to 22 spots (20 paid + 2 scholarships)
This is decolonized education wrapped in community, nourishment, and magic.
The $25 Hair Tool That Brought Me Back to Me
Y’all asked. Here it is.
This brush changed my whole hair care ritual. It’s a flat iron and brush in one, heats up fast, and had me going from wet to styled in under 20 minutes.
Not sponsored—just loved.
#FarrahFawcettForever #GlamourShotsEra #BrushFlipMagic
Thank you
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