Why do I feel guilty for laughing or moving forward after someone dies?

Mirabai wrote about love and loss together—they're not opposites. The guilt you feel often comes from a cultural script that says grief should look a certain way, last a certain duration, feel a certain heaviness all the time. African grief traditions hold something different: sorrow and celebration exist in the same breath. There are mourning periods, yes—times of structured sorrow—but there are also moments where you dance, feast, remember joy. Moving forward isn't betrayal. Laughing at a memory of them isn't disrespect. The examined heart understands nuance: you can miss them fiercely and also feel alive. You can honor their death and still want to live fully. Guilt often signals that you've internalized someone else's timeline for your grief. Notice it, but don't let it dictate your pace. If you're laughing, eating, making plans—these aren't failures of love. They're proof that their life mattered enough to make living matter to you still.