Mamata Kate

02/20/2026

“Grief is love’s frustration, bitterness, anger, and resentment at death’s destruction.” Eleanor Haley

And that part… I understand. Because grief isn’t just sadness.

Sometimes it’s pure rage. Sometimes it’s anger you don’t know where to put. Sometimes it’s the deep, bitter shock of realizing the life you thought you had is gone, destroyed by this overbearing loss and the resulting grief…..

Loss has a way of reopening old wounds — old fears, old abandonment, old pain you thought was long behind you. And that can bring up those deep dark emotions that feel like you have enough in you to burn it all down. Nothing is wrong with that and you are not doing it wrong if it happens. However, you can't burn stuff down, even if grief rage is the reason. We have to learn to cope, to function, to keep things intact.

Grief can feel like standing in the middle of what used to be your life and not recognizing anything around you anymore. It’s disorienting. It’s heavy. And it’s complicated and it can be infuriating. AND it's OK.

It is OK to be mad at death or loss.

The pic is random, a hello from heaven for me.

02/19/2026

🙏🏻

02/18/2026

“Grief is love and the confusion caused by not knowing how to love someone who is gone.” Eleanor Haley

I’ve heard all the grief sayings. The ones that are supposed to land soft “Grief is love. Love with nowhere to go.”

Maybe that comforts some people but it never comforted me.
What I felt wasn’t leftover love after my sons crossed over. It was bigger than that. Louder. More disorienting. Like my entire inner world had to relearn how to exist.

Grief, for me, wasn’t love with nowhere to go.It was love with no language. No physical place to land. No map for how to keep loving someone whose form changed but whose presence didn’t leave my life.

Grief isn’t just what’s left. Sometimes it’s proof the bond is still alive —and we’re learning how to live inside that new reality.

If you’re struggling with figuring out how to love your beloved, reach out privately. You are not alone, and there are those of us who have walked the path before you that can help you feel their love as well.

02/17/2026

Happy Chinese New Year.

Do you feel the shift?

Are you ready?

Full speed ahead friends.

🧧🔥🐎

🙏🏻🫶🏻❤️

02/13/2026

Some of the teachings out there say that grief — even child loss — is something you can overcome. That if you can fully surrender to what is, it can become as fulfilling to your mama soul as having them here in a human body. That they aren’t gone, just different. That if we can move past the physical missing, we can loosen grief’s grip on us.
I tried. I really did. I did the work. I showed up. I understood the concepts. I was the gold-star student. I leaned in. I absorbed it. I wanted it to be true.

Until something in me pushed back.

Not at anyone else, really. At myself. At my own ability — or inability — to let go of the physical missing. At that point I had two of my children in spirit, and my youngest had lived in a body that needed extra care, extra presence, extra physical closeness. So the physical missing had a deeper hook in me.

I thought I had conquered it after two and a half years of my oldest being his spirit self.

But… no.

And now, I don’t need it to leave anymore.

I’ve learned how to tend to the longing when it asks for attention. Most days, it’s quiet. It doesn’t demand anything from me. It just exists in the background, like a steady hum. Peaceful even because of my knowing.

I can’t speak for anyone else. But for me, the physical missing feels like part of my role as their mom. One of the most precious roles I signed up for, one that I want to experience to the fullest, even when it hurts.

My oldest son’s friends have mostly moved past the sharpness of the loss, six and a half years later. And I get that. That’s natural. But I still tear up when I hear his voice in a video they post.

And honestly… I feel like it’s my privilege to still miss them this way. I don’t see the missing as something that makes life unlivable. I live with it. I live fully with it. I feel joy and grief sitting side by side in the same day, sometimes in the same moment.

And to me, that feels honest. That feels like the full human experience. Like the full mother experience. Like the full love experience.

Take what resonates. Leave what doesn’t. ~Kate ~

Disco Ball is lcoated at the Vic Theater in Chicago.

02/12/2026

The strange thing about grief is you’re almost never sure which way is up. Or down. Or sideways. Even when you can finally name it, you still catch yourself wondering — when does this end?
I don’t think it really does. It changes. It stretches out. It quiets down some days and then gets loud again on others. Sometimes it feels like it’s messing with you, like it waits until you think you’re okay and then taps you on the shoulder.
There are moments where grief can feel like punishment — like you’re paying for something in real time. And yeah… that feels cruel. If you’ve lived inside deep grief, that thought doesn’t always feel dramatic. Sometimes it just feels honest.
Grief can be ugly. Messy. Heavy. It can make you feel like a version of yourself you barely recognize. And at the same time — somehow — it can crack things open. It can bring perspective, tenderness, moments of light, even flashes of joy you didn’t expect to feel again.
I don’t think grief is something we outrun. It lives in the background of being human. Sometimes loud, sometimes quiet, sometimes hiding where you don’t see it until something brushes against it.
It can come from the obvious places — death, divorce, job loss, homelessness, war. But it also comes from the quieter losses. The life you thought you’d have. The version of you you thought you’d be. The safety you thought was permanent.
People say grief is about losing something important. That’s true. But it’s bigger than that. It’s tied to loving, hoping, building, believing. It shows up anywhere life and meaning intersect.
And maybe that’s the hardest and most honest part — grief hurts because something mattered. And even when it changes shape, it’s still carrying the imprint of that. ~ Kate

02/11/2026

02/09/2026

The reason we are alterted by the loss is because of the love.

02/04/2026

02/02/2026

A Vilomah held by Mamatā, guided by Kavi. And #68.