Stay soft

On grief, poetry and why softness isn’t passive

“Stay soft. It looks beautiful on you.”

This quote by Nayyirah Waheed has stayed with me for many years.

When I first read her book of poetry, salt, I was moving through a tough break-up. I didn’t know how to be tender. All I knew was anger, heartbreak and loss. As some of us may know, when we grieve for one thing, we grieve for everything we have lost before.

‘Softness’ seems to be a popular philosophy at the moment, at least in my corner of the internet. It’s often packaged as a gentle, slow and peaceful ethos, with all the aesthetic choices you’d expect.

Despite its current popularity, the philosophy of softness is, for me, deeply personal.

The practices of softness are quiet, yet they take courage and patience. Our culture doesn’t praise those who aren’t driven by busyness, extroversion and the pursuit of productivity. There is a quiet rebellion in choosing to live a slower way.

One that celebrates ordinary beauty, loves the quiet hours and doesn’t always want more. A way of living …