Our Noria values are to center, listen and withness each other, in what hurts and needs attention. This means not seeking to “fix” or give advice, but to hold a collective loving gaze on what is shared. And travel with it.

Sometimes this looks like quiet listening, sometimes play, song, movement, breath work, and co-creation with various mediums (whether art, writing, music, clay work, quilt-work, etc).

We ask for respect of all paths and experiences of grief.

Each café holds its own flavor, depending on the elements, grief and brave ones involved. They are usually 2 hours long, with tea and/ or potluck feast to follow. They are a semi-casual yet deliberate gathering of curious ones, interested in listening, withnessing, and holding attention on what hurts. We often have ‘facilitators’ from different cultural backgrounds, artistic expression and grief experience(s) join, so the web is always revolving and revealing all the many sides of grief.

✢ We kindly ask that guests hold reverence for all who bravely attend and share.
✢ Please refrain from giving advice, unless asked to do so.
✢ Listen. Listen. Listen.
✢ Please hold with confidentiality anything that is shared and entrusted in group space.
✢ Respect all experiences and stories of loss, holding with honor how much courage it takes to share.
✢ Trust yourself. It is entirely up to you - as to whether you wish to be with us in quiet presence, to verbally share, walk the land, sing, move in silence, etc.

You are absolutely welcome to sit with us in silence, walk the land (if held at Únashay), move your body, etc. We recognize that talking is a tiny, (often) limited way of expressing ones inner world, and there are so many ways of being together and seeing each other. We’re down for it, however you show up.

If by such, you mean that we sit around a fire and cry, singing “kumbaya” together, then no! Lol.

So much of únashay’s work is to bust the bubble of how culture defines and pathologizes grief. Which is essentially objectifying itself. Depicting it as something to be ‘cured’ or ‘conquered’, and not beholden. We see grief as a prism, not a 1-dimensional weakness that must be “fixed”. Grief is our love for each other and life. It is a profound messenger and channel of genius in us all, which we wish to lean into with reverence, play, curiosity and presence.

We recognize it takes a lot to step into a group of strangers and share what often feels the most vulnerable parts of yourself, and your path. With that said, it sounds cliche, but please come as you are. There is no wrong way to feel around ones grief. Our only ask is that you respect and listen deeply to others in group space, and speak from your experience, not others.