Saturday Mourning Café with The Virtual Hermit

Most rooms built for grieving people ask you to arrive with something to work on. This one asks only that you arrive. Bring coffee, or tea, or nothing at all. Camera optional. Speak, or listen for an hour without expectations. Both are full attendance here.

Each week takes up a different theme, though none is written in stone. The unmapped days. What collapses time. Keeping the story. A different frequency. Every session stands on its own, so there is no sequence to catch up on and no wrong week to begin. Come once. Come weekly. Come back after three months away and nobody will ask where you have been.

This table is set for every Griefwalker. Whoever crossed, however long ago, whatever they were to you. Grief for a person, for a marriage, for a body that used to work differently, for a country you cannot return to. It all belongs here.

The floor is simple. No ranking of one grief against another. No fixing. No advice unless you ask for it.

What holds the hour is one conviction, grounded in the first law of thermodynamics: what was here remains. Continuing presence is a practice rather than a feeling you wait to be given. You do not have to share that conviction to be welcome. Bring your doubt. It is good company in The Saturday Mourning Café.

Hosted by Rev. Rabbi Henry-Cameron Allen, OCP, ICGC, Psychagogue and Grief Cosmologist. He walks alongside. He does not hand out maps.

The café runs on a sliding scale. Give what the hour was worth to you, or give nothing and simply come. Both are welcome, and the second is not a lesser way to be here.