Sarah Lyman Kravits appreciates when people refer to Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s five stages of grief, even though she knows they’re not based in reality. And she doesn’t feel all that brave about surviving breast cancer, since all she did was follow through on her only treatment options.
After marking a decade since her brother was killed by a drunk driver, Sarah knows that grief for her only sibling is part of her now. And she’s content knowing she doesn’t know much else about how her emotions will behave day to day. She’s learned to keep functioning by adapting to those emotions—and reassessing much of what she was raised to believe—so she can live without judgment.
Sarah has downsized her empty nest, moved closer to her parents, and channeled her hard-won wisdom into a new position coaching college and grad students. We also talk about the massive retail opportunities of cold caps, what surfing and gardening have in common, and that rare, relaxing feeling when someone paints your head.
Other links:
In the grief browser, all her tabs are open
Edith Piaf sings L’hymne A L’Amour
The Romans were literally swimming in -ariums.
Wim Hof wants you to breathe deep and get cold.
Stephen Colbert learned “to love the thing I most wish had not happened”
The split realities of Sliding Doors
The Ring Theory of condolence: “comfort in, dump out”
Sarah Lyman Kravits adapted to a decade of grief by yielding to its unpredictability