Death and Feather Plucking

I applied for a scholarship for an end-of-life doula training last month. I was hopeful. Learned yesterday I didn’t get it. I let myself cry and feel deeply sad about it for a while. Self-indulgent but cathartic. When I have the money, I don’t have the time and vice versa. Standard unfair life shit. And then an actual angel in my life appeared and insisted on covering the cost for me. I kindly declined. They insisted. I agreed only on the terms that I either pay them back or pay it forward when I can. They opted for the latter. Many more tears of course. I have had some low, depleted, hopeless days lately. Unsettled in the unknown. This offer was like a hand reaching down toward me, grasping my own.

It will be a 3-day intensive next month. The third day will be the 25th anniversary of the day my dad took his life in our home while I slept in the next room. I know we humans search for meaning, symbolism and patterns. But I think this is bigger than that. I think I’m struggling right now for a reason and possibly this is unfolding when and how it should. I think that both chaos and order can co-mingle. I think that there’s always balance if you can see or perceive it. It’s not easy.

I resized, redesigned and rewrote our Feather Plucking cards (and added two new ones). The previous iteration again had few words inside. Too few I think. These have more. Sad, loving, real.

These cards will be printed on premium matte cardstock with embossed gloss elements on the front and come with a Kraft envelope.

Feather Plucking Greeting Cards