Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your life's search for love and wisdom.
If you’re grieving the loss of something like a job, a particular picture of your future, a role that has been a big part of your identity, you might not even recognize it as grief.
If you’re grieving the death of a loved one, you might find life around you is moving forward and you are feeling left behind.
Or maybe you wonder if you are grieving wrong because you don’t feel sad so much as peaceful or liberated or angry or relieved. All of these situations can force grief underground.
It’s not something our society allows to stay long in the front yard for all to see. It quickly gets relegated to the shadows of the basement.
Photo by Geoffrey Griggs
It just clatters around down there looking for a way out, chewing through old yearbooks and knocking on the ceiling with a broomstick, making a racket. It festers and gets restless.
You will find so much relief in telling your story and feeling your feelings freely with someone who’s not “in it” with you, who won’t get overwhelmed by your grief, who does not pass judgment, try to “fix” it, or tell you to get over it.
Let's help you find the courage to unlock the basement and invite grief up for tea. I’d like to sit with you and your grief at your kitchen table and chat.
Let’s be curious together about your grief, about what it means for you, where it might take you. Let’s give it some space in the light of day.
I believe grief is a natural expression of love. It needs tending, attention, plenty of space to unfold and unfurl and show its true nature.
It can be painful and complicated, but by allowing it to express itself, it can also be a source of growth, wisdom, even comfort.
For me, it’s an honor to hold space for that unfolding, to be present with the pain and the process of healing, to offer guidance, caring attention and a solid foundation of warmth.