“Grief is not a probelm to be solved. It’s a presence awaiting witnessing.” -Francis Weller

The Grief We Carry

The past couple of months, I’ve been leaning more deeply into grief work, both professionally and personally.

On some level, we are all grieving.

Maybe it’s the state of the world we thought we’d be living in.
An unlived dream.
Leaving a city you once called home.
The end of a relationship you thought would last.
Letting go of a job you held for years.
The loss of a loved one.

Grief isn’t alway obvious. Sometimes it’s subtle. Unnamed and in the spaces between chapters, in the ache of what could have been, or in the slow unraveling of what once was.

So often, I hear clients say they don’t want to engage with grief for fear they won’t stop crying, or that they won’t come back.
It can feel like a bottomless pit.
But the paradox is if we don’t engage with it, we may never fully return to ourselves.

Grief pulls us out of our center. Out of control.
Francis Weller says it invites us to the edge of sorrow.

And while that place is scary, it’s also sacred.
It’s where the soul feels most alive.

Tending to grief is like hygiene for the soul.

While loss happens to us, how we grieve is up to us. Grief doesn’t demand us to do it alone.

Instead, it asks for containment.
And when it’s shared in circle, we begin to create a bottom to it, so it no longer feels like free fall.
In community, grief can be met, witnessed, and slowly tended to.

If you’re longing for a space like that, I hold an open and ongoing virtual grief group.

Reach out if you’d like to learn more.