The Healing Power of Fluff

On the liminal journey of grief and being stirred awake by joy and a lust for life

You probably haven’t expected me to pop up in your inbox. But here I am, and I hope it’s a nice surprise that elicits an ‘oh!’ I know it’s been several months since my last missive - worlds away, really. Practically another ‘Vanessa.’

Yeah, I was a different Vanessa then - freshly standing at the threshold to the entrance of this grief landscape - which I can already tell you has been completely and utterly not what I was expecting it to be. Less sadness, more exhaustion. Less missing what was, more of a reclaiming of my fullness.

It’s still a work in progress, but nothing about this landscape of grief surrounding my mother’s death compares to what I experienced and how I changed after my father passed. His death was ‘easy’ because we had a less complicated relationship. Her death has been a ‘gift’ - a liberation.

But I’ll say this for those of you who may or may not have lost a parent: taking care of their estate is its own Bureaucratic Underworld journey. If the souls of the dead are going through their stages of the afterlife; dealing with the paperwork, their possessions, etc. (especially in a different country) is its own particular journey through a bureaucratic hell, and expert guidance is an absolute! (So grateful for my attorney!)

I didn’t allow myself to rest at all after she died, jumping into the fray to get it all sorted as much as I could - spending weeks in Brazil cleaning out her apartment and dealing with the estate paperwork. My mantra was ‘focus,’ I knew if I didn’t jump right in to handle it, I’d never make it. So I took it all as if I was climbing a mountain and couldn’t allow myself to stop to rest; otherwise, I’d stay stuck. I huffed and puffed but kept going - my personal Mt. Everest.

When I returned home before Christmas, I started with what had been my carrot stick throughout the whole process: I promised myself that I would ‘veg like a broccoli’ after all the heavy lifting I had done to clear her apartment and deal with the bureaucratic hell of the probate process. Not to mention all the emotional and mental stress since she had to be taken to the hospital in July! It had been months of me going at a relenting pace.

But did I veg like a broccoli? In a way.

Inspired by the voracious focus I applied to cleaning my mother’s apartment, I tackled my home. Each day, I meticulously went through each part of the house and decluttered and reorganized with the same determined focus. It was all that I could do. I had no energy for anything else other than to tackle each closet, drawer, and room. As my husband said, it was my way of processing it all and reconnecting with what was mine and not mingled with the tangles of my relationship with my mother.

I was so focused on this mountainous project of decluttering and reorganizing that I started feeling anxious about when it was over because it meant I had to ‘return to the world’ and I was afraid I wasn’t ready yet.

Once it was done, I found myself utterly exhausted, realizing that my nervous system had been on high alert throughout the months she had been ailing at the hospital, all the pain that I witnessed and the navigating the financial and bureaucratic issues surrounding the before and after of her death. Instead of the tear-filled sadness I thought and feared would come, I felt emptied of energy and very close to the edge of my own darkness.

The nourishing lifeline

My master’s Thesis was titled The Healing Power of Fluff. It explored the therapeutic and symbolic value of Romantic Comedies in one’s search for love. That work changed my life because, in many ways, it prepared me for when I met my husband a couple of years later. It helped me do my inner work around my quest for love and romance.

After working so hard in grad school, a profoundly and alchemically rich but exhausting time, I took to reading romance novels, which was not ‘my thing’ ever. Not only I’ve always been more of a non-fiction reader, but I always pooped the fluffiness of romance. But that year after finishing grad school, returning to making art, something I had ‘shut down’ since High School, and reading fluffy romance novels nourished me.

But like a convenient doll that I played with while recovering, I abandoned reading ‘those books’ to the sideline after that year. Only to return to them now.

While I was hyperfocused on decluttering and reorganizing, a good friend suggested I read Sarah J. Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses. This reimagining of Beauty and the Beast / Hades Persephone is filled with battle scenes and complex worldbuilding, and I took to it like a hungry calf takes to the cow’s teats.

While I enjoyed the series fairly enough, I am no rabid fan. Nevertheless, the series opened a door inside my psyche, reawakening my imagination and giving me a nourishing lifeline. Since reading the series, I’ve returned to the joy of reading novels, as I haven’t experienced in years. It has stirred my imagination and creativity and has helped me sit at the edge of my darkness but befriend and relate to it instead of fearfully drowning in it. (In a way, it’s helping me court and woo the dark monster inside.)

As someone who loves mythology and fairy tales, I’ve been enjoying seeing what’s out there in this world of romantasy - the love child of the union of romance + fantasy books. The richness of the creativity out there, the worlds built, the reimaginings, and the rich psychology underneath - feels so nourishing to me.

And yes, while I enjoy the fluff, I can’t help but wonder what it means to my own psychology, as well as the collective, especially in light of how deep we’re in this liminal landscape, at the receiving end of a battering ram of fear, distress, and the violent contraction pangs of the old world dying and the new one being born.

Plus the joy of allowing myself to enjoy this creative world has reawakened me to feeling a LUST FOR LIFE.

This feels very aligned with the ARIES/FIRE ERA we’re moving into with the arrival of Neptune (imagination) in Aries on March 30; the last time it ingressed into Aries was in 1875!

Plus, Venus retrograde in Aries/Pisces. The last time our JOY BRINGER retrograded in Aries/Pisces was in March 2017 (only a couple of months after my father died, and I was lost in grief.) There’s a resonance to 2017 for this Venus Retrograde, so look to your life then. What stirred your joy and pleasure and reconfigured your relationships?

So what’s next?

I’m still in the reimagination phase - redoing my website, getting new professional photos, and planning for upcoming online classes.

I’m also cooking up a side Substack on exploring these romantasy books, a return to my thesis roots, and diving into what the potentials are for us during these liminal times for THE HEALING POWER OF FLUFF. So stay tuned!

Today, I just wanted to say hello, give an update, and let you know I’m (still) alive - and kicking! In my ambitiousness, I thought I’d have the website all done for Spring Equinox, but I couldn’t finish it. It’s a work in progress. It’s ok; Mercury is still Retro, so it's all in good time!

Many ideas are swirling, but my discerning tool has been joy. In my paraphrasing of the words of Marie Kondo, "Does it spark joy? If not, toss it."

I deeply respect Lady Death's and Lady Grief's gifts, but I feel we must honor the third sister, Lady Joy. For me, they are the triple goddesses. Last year, I sat with Lady Death and Lady Grief by my side. Now, I feel the curious tickles of Lady Joy fanning the sparks of my creativity flames and my lust for life.

I hope you get to spend time with Lady Joy, too - she’s a hoot!

Enjoy & Thrive!
Vanessa Couto