Category: The Faces of Meditation

I used to roll out of bed and meditate in my room.

However, in August of 2020, my boy died in his sleep of an overdose after years of struggle with mental health and addiction. From that day to now, I’ve gone into his room every morning to read and meditate. It helps me claim that space, my grief, and my memories of him. Of course, it has not improved my taste in pajamas.


Want to submit a photo and your story for the Snapshots of Meditation? Send it here:


Were you moved by this post? You might also like:

The Faces of Meditation: Max Wong

The Unanticipated Waves of Grief

Help us pay our editing team!

Get the Tattooed Buddha in your Inbox!

Don't miss a post! Sign up to get articles delivered straight to your inbox!

Join 860 other subscribers

As an Amazon Associate we earn from qualifying purchases.