A Place For Us

I have spent most of my life afraid of making the wrong decision.Not in a paralyzing way — I functioned, I decided, I moved forward. But there was always a low hum of anxiety underneath it. What if I missed something? What if more research would have changed the answer? What if the other choice was better?It took me decades to figure out what was actually going on. And once I did, something shifted. I’ll tell you what but you have to stay to the end.First, let me tell you about a car. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

I spent yesterday watching two women fight the same battle — and neither one knew it.One was my client, sitting across from me in the morning, wearing her daughter’s engineering school sweatshirt. The other was a stranger at a John Edward show that night, who stood up to ask a question about skeptics — and then admitted that the “skeptic” was her.Same wound. Same brain doing the same thing. Both wanted to believe. Both believed at one time. But both admitted they were sabotaging their own happiness. Their brains were sabotaging their fulfillment.Maybe yours does it too.The Problem With Being SmartMy client is not naive. She’s done the work — read the books, listened to hundreds of hours of podcasts, sat with some of the most respected mediums alive. We’re talking Mark Anthony, Fara Gibson, Suzanne Wilson, and Suzanne Giesemann.Some readings hit her like lightning.Others didn’t land as well.And here’s where it gets painful: her brain took both of those facts and used them against her.The readings that didn’t resonate? “See — maybe it’s not real.”The readings that were extraordinary? ”Well, they probably looked me up.”It was like confirmation bias in reverse. She wanted to believe. But her “skeptical” side kept telling her she was deluding herself.I sat with her and said something I say a lot: we live in a world with 200 years of materialist culture at its back. For most of human history, the prevailing view was that we are spiritual creatures with lives beyond our biological limits. This culture tells you, quietly and constantly, that consciousness ends at death, that what you can measure is all that exists, that hope beyond the grave is wishful thinking. Religion- pre-scientific nonsense. Realists live by science, what we can prove, what we can measure in the laboratory.You have to actively work against that materialistic current.The faith that grief cracked open in you? It doesn’t maintain itself.I’m Still a Skeptic TooHere’s something I don’t say often enough: I haven’t arrived.I’ve sat with some of the most gifted mediums alive. I’ve had breakfasts, lunch, and dinners with them. I’ve attended dozens of demonstrations. I’ve designed experiments that ruled out cheating. And I still walk into every one of these events questioning.That’s not a contradiction. That’s the only honest way to do this.I told my client yesterday that this isn’t a destination you reach — it’s a never-ending journey of discovery. You don’t get to a point where you’ve collected enough evidence, and you’re done. The questions keep coming. That’s not a weakness. That’s intellectual integrity.This past week, I engaged with a woman on YouTube who had posted what I’d call a hit piece on Helping Parents Heal and the mediums we work with. She told me, pointedly, that she’d be willing to share what she knows when I was ready to listen.I took that seriously, even knowing her history and her hatred for mediums.I don’t want to only look at one side of this. The moment I stop being willing to hear the other side is the moment I’ve become exactly what I’m arguing against — someone who’s decided what’s true and stopped looking.My client asked me directly: do I believe any mediums are fraudulent?Absolutely. Without question.I think fraudulent mediums — people deliberately deceiving grieving families for money — are a small percentage. But there’s a larger group that deserves the criticism it gets: mediums who speak in generalities, who fish for hits, who throw out vague statements and work hard to make something fit. They may not be frauds in the intentional sense. They may genuinely believe they’re making a connection. But they’re not doing what the best mediums do, and they give skeptics legitimate ammunition.That’s a fair criticism. I’ll own that.What isn’t fair is taking that legitimate criticism and applying it to everyone — including the mediums who operate at a completely different level.Because here’s the paradox: the better a medium is, the more likely they are to get accused of fraud.John Edward told a story that night about a woman he read for on Crossing Over — a reading so precise, so accurate, that she walked away an unbeliever. She was a believer walking in and an unbeliever after. It was too good. Her brain couldn’t accept it as real, so it recast it as deception. The same thing happened with someone I referred to a medium whose a friend with the utmost integrity. The sitter emailed me after and accused her of fraud. Why? The reading had been too accurate. The medium knew things so precise she must have looked them up. Evidential mediumship is about exactly that. But because the medium was too good. She must be a fraud. In this world of Google and Facebook, you have to dig deep to find something that people couldn’t look up.Mediocre mediums get dismissed because they’re mediocre. Exceptional mediums get accused of cheating because they’re exceptional.The cynical mind always finds a door out.What I Saw Last NightA few hours later, I was at John Edward’s show.I want to be clear about something before I describe what happened: I’m not someone who takes this on faith. I’ve spent years building relationships with mediums — having breakfast with them, dinner, drinks. I’ve had one of them in my home. I’ve watched them behind the scenes, seen what drives them, understood why they do what they do. I worked for Thomas John for a couple of years. I’ve volunteered on John Edward’s platform for a year and a half. I speak regularly with others.This is not performance for them. It’s a calling.And I’ve designed experiments — with Thomas John, for example — where cheating was structurally impossible. Not just unlikely. Impossible.So I come to these events with eyes wide open.What John did last night wasn’t a magic act. It was not entertainment. It was something far harder to dismiss. And it’s something way more profound.John is a teacher as much as he is a medium. You might come to his “show” wanting a connection. You might come to be entertained. You’ll leave with a deeper understanding of life, your role in it, and how you can do better in this life and the next. That is what John wants you to get out of his show.In the way of evidence, he described to a woman about the moment she had to tell her son’s father — a man she wasn’t married to — that their son had died. He described her driving to that man’s house. He described the house itself. He described them meeting outside and walking in — and then said they didn’t sit down.Try to look that up.He said someone had a horse that died. While working with her, he seemed to get a detail wrong — two horses — but the woman sitting directly beside her had lost a horse too. The energy of both losses had arrived together. The horses had been stabled together.He spoke about a family’s time in a critical care unit, and knowing that staff don’t allow families to eat and sleep there, he asked whether they had been given special permission to stay. They had. It was unusual. He knew. He described detailed familial relationships between grandmothers, mothers, and daughters, generational patterns and encouraged the person getting the reading to be aware and careful— teaching!These aren’t things you get from hot reading — from looking someone up before the show. They’re not in anyone’s Facebook profile.And all of that was almost secondary.What John Actually Does for Two HoursJohn Edward could just deliver messages. That would be enough for most people.He doesn’t do that.For two full hours — and another 45 minutes for the VIPs — he teaches. About how to live. About how to interpret the patterns in your life using whatever language speaks to you: astrology, numerology, past life regression. About how to recognize the ways you’ve been carrying wounds from before you even knew you were carrying them.A woman in the audience asked the question I’ve heard a hundred times: What would you say to a skeptic who wants to believe? John said, “Skeptic or cynic?”Then she paused, smiled a little, and admitted she was the skeptic.She had believed once. And then — like my client, like so many of us — she had slowly reasoned herself back out of it.John gave her a beautiful answer. I won’t try to reproduce it here because part of the power was in the room. But the short version: your doubt doesn’t mean you’ve gotten smarter. It may mean you’ve gotten more defensive.The Doctor Who Washed His HandsThis morning, I was listening to Mayim Bialik’s podcast. The host — a neuroscientist — said something that tied everything together.She was talking about how many people reject an idea simply because they can’t explain the mechanism. Mayim is like I am. She wants to know the mechanism. She wants to know how.It reminded me of a story I love.In the mid-1800s, a doctor named Ignaz Semmelweis noticed something that no one else wanted to admit: women were dying from childbed fever at alarming rates in hospitals where doctors had just been working on cadavers.He had a radical idea: what if doctors washed their hands between the autopsy table and the delivery room?He was mocked. Ridiculed. Eventually driven to a breakdown.Not because the evidence was weak. The evidence was clear.He was ridiculed because no one could explain why it would work. Germ theory didn’t exist yet. Without a mechanism — without a story that fit the current worldview — the evidence didn’t count.Women kept dying while they waited for the mechanism.I think about that every time someone says, “I’d believe in the afterlife if someone could explain how it works.”The evidence for consciousness surviving death is substantial. NDEs, after-death communications, mediumship under controlled conditions, children who remember past lives in verifiable detail, a John Edward demonstration.You don’t have to understand the mechanism to let the evidence speak.What It Takes to Hold Onto What You KnowMy client and the woman at the show are not weak. They’re human.We all have a left brain that runs threat assessments on our hope. It wants certainty before it lets you rest. Our brains evolved to keep us alive, not make us happy. Alive but unfulfilled. Alive but not fully living our best lives.Certainty was never the deal.The deal is: you keep showing up. You surround yourself with people who take this seriously and have the character to back it up. You don’t just read about the evidence — you build a relationship with it. You stay curious about what you don’t understand without letting the unknown invalidate what you do know, what you see in front of your own eyes.Faith isn’t the absence of doubt. It’s what you choose to do with it. Do you keep exploring? I do. I still try to understand the mechanism, even knowing it’s unlikely I ever will.If this resonates, share it with someone whose left brain has been winning lately.And if you’ve had an experience that helped you hold on — a reading, a sign, a moment that cracked you back open — I’d love to hear about it in the comments.Brian D. Smith is a grief guide, certified grief educator, and host of the Grief 2 Growth podcast. After losing his daughter Shayna in 2015, he has dedicated his work to helping others find evidence-based hope in the face of loss. Subscribe at grief2growth.substack.com. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

I grew up being told Jesus could come back at any moment.Not someday. Not eventually. Any. Moment.As a kid, that hung over everything. Plan for the future? Why? Build something? For what? Some people I knew didn’t go to college because of it. Didn’t save for retirement. Didn’t make long-term plans. Why plant seeds in soil you’d never harvest?It took me until my 40s to learn the uncomfortable truth: the theology behind all of it — the literal clouds-parting, trumpet-blaring return — wasn’t ancient doctrine. It was invented in the 1800s by a man named John Nelson Darby, a British preacher who systematized the whole framework between 1827 and 1833. Before him, eighteen centuries of Christianity hadn’t taught it. The church fathers didn’t preach it. The Reformers didn’t assume it.It was new.And yet it reshaped millions of lives.When the Savior Changes, the Waiting Stays the SameHere’s what I’ve noticed.We stopped talking about the rapture quite as much. But we didn’t stop waiting for rescue.Now it’s disclosure. Any day now, the government is going to reveal what it’s known for decades — that we’ve been visited, maybe even in contact, with beings not from here. Congress has held hearings. Whistleblowers have testified under oath. President Trump directed federal agencies in January 2026 to begin releasing classified UAP files. UAP is the new acronym for UFOs. The machinery of “something big is coming” has never been louder.And maybe something is there. I hold that open. The universe is vast, and consciousness is stranger than we pretend. I don’t dismiss it. When I attend IANDS meetings, many people talk about aliens.But I’ve also watched how the disclosure movement works. Barack Obama was supposed to be the disclosure president. Then Hillary Clinton. Then Biden. Then Trump — the first time. The cast keeps changing. The promise never arrives.The government’s own All-domain Anomaly Resolution Office released a report in 2024 saying it found no evidence of extraterrestrial beings. The Wall Street Journal revealed that hundreds of Air Force personnel had been fed false stories about secret alien technology programs — described as something like a hazing ritual that got completely out of hand.I’m not saying nothing is out there. A lot of people believe it and there’s a good chance it’s true that aliens are out there.I’m saying: notice the pattern.Rapture. Aliens. The New Age shift. The Age of Aquarius. The Great Reset. Pick your version.We are very good at believing that someone — or something — from outside is about to arrive and change everything.Why We Love the External SaviorI understand it. Deeply.The world is exhausting. The problems feel too big. We have enough energy, food, and technology to end poverty many times over — and yet people are starving. We have enough wealth to transform lives — and instead we invent more precise ways to end them. Drones. Hypersonic missiles. AI-guided weapons.And then there’s Epstein.I used to roll my eyes at people who talked about Satanic pedophile rings as a shadow government. That was tin foil hat territory. Conspiracy thinking for people who couldn’t accept that the world was just ordinarily corrupt. I’m not a conspiracy-minded person.I had to eat those words about conspiracy-minded things.Because what came out wasn’t a theory. It was a documented reality. A billionaire ran a trafficking network that serviced some of the most powerful men in the world — politicians, financiers, royalty — for decades. People knew. People looked away. People were protected. People are still being protected. We’re finally just talking about the “Epstein class.”And barely anyone was held accountable.That’s not a conspiracy theory. That’s a confession, hidden in plain sight, that power at the highest levels operates by rules the rest of us don’t get to know about.I’m not prone to seeing shadows everywhere. But I also can’t unsee what I’ve seen. And I think a lot of people are in that same place right now — not paranoid, just paying attention for the first time.When the problems are that entrenched, of course, we want a deus ex machina.Of course, we want the clouds to part, Jesus to come back and save us.But here’s what I’ve come to believe after years of sitting with grief, with loss, with people who’ve had to rebuild their entire understanding of reality from the ground up:The external rescue isn’t coming. And it never had to.Taking Jesus Seriously, at His WordI’m not dismissing Jesus. I’m taking him seriously — at his own word.The mystics — Meister Eckhart, Thomas Merton, the early contemplatives — understood the Second Coming differently than the Darby crowd that influenced the church I grew up in. Not as a man descending through clouds, but as the Christ consciousness awakening within human beings. The teachings finally being lived, not just recited.Love your enemy. Care for the poor. The last shall be first. The kingdom of God is within you.That last one is straight from Luke 17:21. Jesus said it plainly. Not: the kingdom of God is coming from the sky. Not: wait for the event. Within you. Now.We’re seeing the government, our government in a fight with the Pope who is preaching Jesus’ words and our government asks God to bless their war.What if the return isn’t an event on a calendar?What if it’s a threshold — one we cross collectively — when enough of us finally start actually living those teachings instead of just professing them?That’s not a diminishment of the idea.That’s a deepening of it.From 3D to 5D — And Why I Think We’re Already MovingIn the circles I run in, I keep hearing about 3D and 5D and us making the shift from one to the other.In consciousness circles, people talk about dimensional shifts — not physical dimensions, but states of awareness. Ways of being in the world.Let me explain what that actually means, because it’s not as abstract as it sounds.3D consciousness is where most of humanity has operated for a long time. It’s the world of pure physical reality — what you can see, measure, accumulate, defend. In 3D, life is fundamentally about survival and competition. There’s not enough — not enough money, love, safety, status. So you protect what’s yours. You sort people into us and them. You numb yourself to suffering that isn’t directly in front of you because you simply can’t afford to feel it all.It’s not evil. It’s just limited.5D consciousness is something different. It’s the awareness that we are not isolated selves in competition — we are expressions of something interconnected. Love isn’t a scarce resource to be rationed. It’s the ground of reality itself. Separation is the illusion. What you do to another, you do to yourself. Service isn’t sacrifice — it’s just recognizing what’s actually true. When you serve another, you serve the whole, and you serve yourself.The mystics have always lived there. Most of the rest of us visit occasionally.4D is the in-between — and I believe that’s where we are now, collectively.4D is the awakening that hurts. It’s when the old stories stop working but the new ones haven’t fully formed yet. It’s when you can no longer pretend the system is fine, but you don’t yet know what replaces it. It’s disorienting. It looks like chaos from the inside.The Epstein reckoning is 4D. The collapse of institutional trust is 4D. The exhaustion with performative politics, the hunger for something real, the spiritual searching that cuts across every demographic — all of it is the signal of a consciousness that is outgrowing the container it’s been living in.I genuinely believe we are moving from 3D to 4D right now.Not as a metaphor. As a description of what I watch happening in real time — in the people I work with, in the conversations I’m having, in what I see people reaching for.The question is whether we get stuck in 4D — in the disillusionment, the anger, the paralysis — or whether we use it as the threshold it’s meant to be.What Grief Taught Me About This MomentHere’s where I have to speak from my own ground.In 2015, I lost my daughter Shayna. Fifteen years old. Gone in her sleep, without warning, without a chance to say goodbye.That event did not slowly make things worse. It ended one world completely and forced me to either build a new one or not survive.I’ve spent the years since sitting with hundreds of people in that same place — the place after the rug gets pulled out. After the diagnosis. After the phone call. After the marriage ends, or the career collapses, or the faith shatters.Here’s what I know from all of that time:Transformation doesn’t arrive gently. It arrives as destruction first.The breakdown is not the opposite of the breakthrough. It is the breakthrough, in its early form.Every single person I’ve worked with who found their way through — who built something real on the other side of their loss — went through a moment when the old world became completely, undeniably, unlivably over. There was no going back. The only direction was through.That’s not comfortable. But it’s how it works.I look at our world right now, and I see the same pattern I’ve watched in grieving people.The old operating system is failing visibly. The contradictions are becoming undeniable. The gap between what we say we value and what we actually do is out in the open in ways it hasn’t been before.That’s not the end.That might be exactly where we need to be.The breaking point isn’t the destination. It’s the door.The Shift That’s Available Right NowHere’s what I’ve come to believe the new age actually looks like — if it comes.Not aliens landing on the White House lawn.Not a trumpet sounding. When I was a little kid, a guy actually stood up in the back of the church and blew a trumpet as was supposed to sound when Jesus returns. I nearly had a heart attack at around eight years old. Not a single dramatic event that changes everything from the outside.It looks like millions of individual people doing the hard, quiet, unglamorous work of waking up.Grieving their illusions. Questioning the stories they inherited. Looking honestly at where fear is running them. Choosing presence over performance. Choosing connection over competition. Choosing love — not as a feeling, but as a practice.Every person who does that internal work becomes a slightly different presence in the world. They parent differently. They vote differently. They spend differently. They show up differently in their relationships.And that ripples.It doesn’t make the headlines. It doesn’t go viral. But it changes things in ways that last.The mystics called it transformation. The contemplatives called it awakening. The consciousness researchers call it a shift in the attractor field. Grief workers call it the rebuilding after the breakdown.Call it whatever you want.The invitation is the same.What Will Your Breaking Point Be?I work with people every day who are doing this work.Every single one of them was driven here by grief. By something that happened that they did not choose and could not prevent. A loss. A diagnosis. A betrayal. A moment when the world as they knew it ended.That ending — as brutal as it was — turned out to be the thing that cracked them open.Not broken. Cracked open. There’s a difference.The question I keep sitting with is this: does it have to be that way for us collectively?We’ve been waiting for the rapture for nearly 200 years. We’ve been waiting for disclosure for at least 70. We’ve been waiting for the age of peace to arrive from outside for as long as there have been humans to wait.And here we are. The corruption is visible. The system is straining. The old stories aren’t holding.Maybe that’s not a catastrophe.Maybe that’s the rug being pulled out — exactly the way it needs to be — so that we finally stop waiting for someone else to do what only we can do.The shift rises. It doesn’t descend.It rises from inside each of us, from the slow and difficult and beautiful work of becoming more fully human.That’s where I’m placing my hope.Not in clouds.In us.I work with people every day who found their way through a breaking point they didn’t choose. Are we at one collectively? What would it take for you to stop waiting — and start doing the internal work? I’d love to hear where you are in the comments.Brian D. Smith is a grief guide, certified grief educator, and host of the Grief 2 Growth podcast. After losing his daughter Shayna in 2015, he has dedicated his work to helping others find evidence-based hope in the face of loss. Subscribe at grief2growth.substack.com.📣 Join the First 100 — Founding Member RatesSubstack promotes its bestsellers. Bestseller status helps me reach people who are hurting and don’t yet know this community exists. You can help get me there.72 of 100 seats are filled. 28 remain. Click the tier to sign up💛 The Lightbearer — $2/month ($20/year) You believe this work matters. That’s enough.💚 The Steady Hand — $4/month ($40/year) Present, consistent, quietly holding space.💙 The Shoulder-to-Shoulder — $6/month ($60/year) Walking beside those who are carrying the most.After year one, your subscription renews at the standard rate — cancel anytime before then. No penalty. No guilt. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

The morning after Shayna passed, I lay in my bed and thought about disappearing.Not because I wanted to die. Well, not exactly. But because I couldn’t bear the thought of what time might do to her.I remember it as if it were yesterday.I was terrified that if I kept living, she would fade. That grief would do what grief supposedly does: soften at the edges, blur, retreat. That the sharpness of her — her laugh, her voice, the particular way she moved through a room — would eventually smooth itself into something vague and distant.I didn’t want a memory. I wanted her.And I was afraid that the longer I lived, the more time would take from me. That she would become a ghost — not the kind that haunts, but the kind that disappears. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

I posted something on Facebook a few days ago that really hit a nerve.Most of my posts go largely unnoticed. This one got 2,200 reactions. Nearly 600 shares. A post about Netanyahu, Trump, and why criticizing Israel’s government is not the same as hating Jewish people. Why criticizing our government isn’t anti-American.And then the responses came.My Jewish friends pushed back. They were concerned I’d stir up anti-semitism, make the world less safe for Jews. The trolls arrived. Ugly memes I won’t repeat. Someone claiming the Talmud teaches Jewish people to defraud non-Jews. Then another person informed me that Islam is a “Satanic death cult.”I’ve been sitting with all of it. And I think I know why the post resonated.We are exhausted.We Are Tired of Being Told to Be QuietWe are tired of governments killing in our names and calling it patriotism.We are tired of religious leaders blessing wars and calling it faith.We are tired of being told that if we speak out — if we dare to say this is wrong — we are bad Americans, bad Christians, bad Jews, anti-semites, traitors.Even Jewish people who criticize Israel are being ostracized by their own communities.This is not an abstraction. I work with grieving people. I have a client right now whose grief is not about death — it’s about exile. She has been cut off from friends and family because she speaks out against what is happening in Gaza. She lost her community for telling the truth as she sees it.That is its own kind of death.And it is happening everywhere. The message is consistent: Stay in line. Don’t make waves. Don’t embarrass us. Silence is loyalty.I reject that.What a True Patriot Actually DoesThere’s a version of patriotism that says: my country, right or wrong.I don’t believe in that version.A true patriot doesn’t blindly follow his country. A true patriot wants to make his country right — even when that means standing against the government. Especially then.The same is true of faith.A true person of faith doesn’t follow religious leaders into violence without question. A true person of faith goes back to the source — the actual teachings, the actual words — and asks: Is this what we believe? Is this who we are? This is the journey I took for several years before I left Christianity.And sometimes the answer is no.Sometimes the leaders are wrong. Sometimes the nation is wrong. Sometimes the institution built in the name of God has wandered so far from God that the most faithful thing you can do is say so out loud. Sometimes, you even have to leave.When Prayer Becomes a WeaponThis week, Pete Hegseth stood at the Pentagon pulpit — at a mandatory Christian worship service that civilian employees and uniformed military personnel were expected to attend — and prayed.It wasn’t a prayer most of us would recognize.He read from the Psalms: “I pursued my enemies and overtook them. I did not turn back till they were consumed. I thrust them through so that they were not able to rise. They fell under my feet.” Military TimesHe then recited what he said was the chaplain’s prayer from the mission that captured Venezuela’s former president.“Behold now the wicked who rise against your justice and the peace of the righteous. Snap the rod of the oppressor, frustrate the wicked plans, and break the teeth of the ungodly. By the blast of your anger, let the evil perish.” The HillAnd then this:“Let every round find its mark against the enemies of righteousness and our great nation. Give them wisdom in every decision, endurance for the trial ahead, unbreakable unity, and overwhelming violence of action against those who deserve no mercy.” Military TimesHe closed by asking God to “let justice be executed swiftly and without remorse, that evil may be driven back, and wicked souls delivered to the eternal damnation prepared for them.” Military TimesThis is the Secretary of Defense. Using the Pentagon as a church. Praying for death and damnation in the name of Jesus Christ.And I’m supposed to stay quiet about that?I’m supposed to nod along because criticizing it might mean I’m not a good Christian? Not a good American?No.As an aside, the people who cherry-pick verses from the Quran or the Talmud to condemn those religions as violent are so self-unaware that they forget these verses are in their Bibles and have been to justify all sorts of atrocities.This Is Why I LeftI grew up in a church.I know the Bible. I’ve read the Quran. I’ve studied the Torah, the Bhagavad Gita, the Tao Te Ching, and the teachings of the Buddha. I have found profound, beautiful, life-giving wisdom in every single one of them.I have also watched people use every single one of them to justify violence, indifference to injustice, oppression, exclusion, and hatred.And I made a decision: I respect all of these traditions. I will not participate in any organized religion.Not because I don’t believe in something larger than myself.But because I refuse to let the 10% define my relationship with the other 90%.The 90% We SharePick any major religious tradition on Earth.They all teach some version of this: love your neighbor. Do not kill innocent people. Care for the poor. Treat others as you want to be treated. There is something sacred in every human being.That’s not a guess. It’s documented. Across Buddhism, Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, Sikhism — the core ethics are nearly identical.We agree on roughly 90% of what matters most.But we’ve built the last 3,000 years of human conflict on the 10%.The dietary laws. The holy days. The name we use for God. Whether salvation comes through faith or works. Whether Jesus was divine or a prophet. Whether Muhammad was the final messenger.We have tortured and enslaved and burned each other alive over these questions.And men like Hegseth are still doing it. Not with fire — with bullets. And calling it prayer.The Congressman Who Changed His MindHere’s a story that gives me some hope.Mark Siljander was a congressman from Michigan in the 1980s — a hard-right Reagan Republican, a staunch member of the Religious Right. He once walked out of the National Prayer Breakfast when a speaker quoted from the Quran. Porchlight Book Company. He believed Islam was dangerous, so dangerous that he would not sit in the room while someone read from the Quran.Then he lost his reelection. And he started actually reading.He had what he called a “paradigm crash” after discovering that much of what he’d been taught about his faith was nowhere in the Bible, and that the Christian and Muslim religious texts are surprisingly compatible when studied in their original languages. AmazonHe came to realize that Islam and Christianity were “not contradictory at their core.” AmazonHe wrote a book about it. A Deadly Misunderstanding: A Congressman’s Quest to Bridge the Muslim-Christian Divide.The title wasn’t just about Islam and Christianity.It was about all of us.I read the book. It gave me hope.The deadly misunderstanding is the belief that the people on the other side of our theological 10% are our enemies. That our God wants us to defeat them. To break their teeth. To send their souls to eternal damnation.That misunderstanding has been killing us for millennia.What I Actually BelieveI believe in something.I believe consciousness doesn’t end at death. I’ve spent 30 years studying the evidence — near-death experiences, after-death communications, mediumship — and I find it compelling. I believe love is the fundamental force of the universe. I believe we are all connected at a level that makes the 10% seem almost absurd.I believe what Jesus actually said, not what empires and politicians later decided he meant.I believe what Muhammad actually taught, not what has been distorted by those who want war.I believe what the mystics of every tradition have always known: that God — or Source, or the Divine, or whatever name you use — is not asking for “overwhelming violence of action.”That’s a human invention.A very old, very dangerous one.The Trolls Didn’t Teach Me Anything NewWhen the anti-semitic memes showed up in my comments, I wasn’t surprised. Hateful people use whatever thread they can find. I didn’t create the anti-semitism. I didn’t feed it. But I did expose it.When someone said Islam was a Satanic death cult, I thought of the 1.8 billion Muslims I’ve never met — most of whom are simply trying to live with integrity, raise their children, and find meaning in a world that doesn’t offer easy answers.When I was told my criticism of Netanyahu was anti-semitism, I thought of the many Jewish voices who are also criticizing Netanyahu. Loudly. Courageously. At great personal cost.Criticizing a government is not the same as hating a people.Studying a religion honestly is not the same as endorsing everything done in its name.And praying for “overwhelming violence” is not the same as following the man who said, Blessed are the peacemakers.What Would Change If We Focused on the 90%?That’s the question I keep asking.What would change — in our politics, our foreign policy, our neighborhoods, our comment sections — if we led with what we share instead of what divides us?I’m not naive. The 10% is real. The differences matter to people.But I am asking you to consider the cost.The wars. The exiles. The clients I sit with who have lost their entire communities for speaking truth. The children in Gaza. The 150 or so girls in the school we bombed in Iran. The children in Israel. The soldiers coming home broken. The families who never get to come home at all.Is the 10% worth all of that?I don’t think it is.And I suspect, in the quiet of your own heart — away from the noise and the tribalism and the trolls — neither do you.Speak anyway.That’s not disloyalty. That’s love.Where have you felt silenced for speaking what you believe is true? I’d genuinely like to hear from you. Drop a comment, or hit reply.Brian D. Smith is a grief guide, certified grief educator, and host of the Grief 2 Growth podcast. After losing his daughter Shayna in 2015, he has dedicated his work to helping others find evidence-based hope in the face of loss. If this work supports you, here’s a simple way to support it back. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

My friend Eileen just lost her spouse.When I asked how she was doing, she said something that hit home for me.“All days are bad. Some are just not as bad as the others.”That’s early grief in one sentence. You don’t dare hope for a good day. A good day isn’t even on the radar. You just quietly hope the next one is a little less crushing than the one you’re in right now.If that’s where you are, I see you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

A few weeks ago, I wrote something I don’t usually write.I asked for help.I told you I was pushing toward 100 paid subscribers — the number Substack uses to award Bestseller status. I told you why it mattered, not just for the badge, but for the visibility it brings to this work.You showed up. Some of you upgraded. Some of you shared the post.And we moved the needle. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

Someone asked me a question after a recent talk, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.“What if we come here just to experience the uncontrollable?”Not to complete a mission. Not to fulfill a contract. Not to check off some cosmic to-do list. Certainly not to follow a pre-determined path.Just to feel the weight of something we couldn’t predict, plan, or prevent. That would be the real challenge.That question stopped me cold. Because if it’s true — and I think it might be — it changes everything about how we understand why we’re here.First, Let’s Talk About What a Soul Plan Actually IsI want to be careful with language here, because words carry weight.You’ve probably heard the term “soul contracts.” I’m not a fan of it.The word contract has legal baggage. It implies offer, acceptance, consideration — and breach clauses. It turns our pre-life agreements into something adversarial, like we’re going to get sued by the universe if we veer off course.I prefer soul plans or soul agreements.Not because it’s softer. Because it’s more accurate.These aren’t rigid legal documents with remedies if we miss a clause. They’re more like loose frameworks — a relationship between us and our higher self, our guides, and perhaps others who agreed to journey alongside us.The universe is not a cosmic courtroom.And I don’t think we need to spend much energy worrying about whether we’re “breaching” anything. That framing misses the point entirely.The Question That’s Haunted Philosophers for CenturiesHere’s where it gets interesting.If soul plans exist — if there’s some pre-life framework guiding our experience — then how much of what happens here was chosen?And if it was chosen... does that mean free will is an illusion?This is one of the oldest philosophical debates in human history. The old Newtonian model treated the universe like a billiard table. Know the position and velocity of every ball, account for friction and force, and you can predict every outcome that follows.If that’s true of the entire universe, then what we call “choices” are just dominoes falling. Predetermined since the Big Bang.But here’s where it breaks down.Even if physical systems can be modeled and predicted — and look how far weather forecasting has come with satellites and data — human behavior isn’t just a physical system. We have thoughts. We have feelings. We make decisions based on things we can’t fully measure or explain.Yes, some say we are purely biological robots. If we’re purely biological robots, then free will is an illusion.And if free will is an illusion, so is moral responsibility.And if moral responsibility is an illusion, then the whole framework of growth, learning, and accountability collapses, along with a legal system or anything that holds us accountable for our actions.Which means: what are we even doing here?My “So What?” TestWhen a philosophical debate starts spinning me in circles, I apply what I call the “so what?” test.Here it is: Whether free will is ultimately real or not, we have to act as if it is.Even if soul agreements exist, most of us have no memory of making them. From inside these bodies, life feels full of the unexpected and uncontrollable. Navigating that uncertainty with wisdom and compassion — that’s the real curriculum. Regardless of what was planned before we arrived.So I don’t get too worked up about the determinism debate. From our perspective inside this biological unit, inside what some might call the simulation, it feels real. It feels like we’re choosing. And that felt experience is what we have to work with.A Better Model: The Adjustment BureauThere’s a movie I recommend to almost every client I work with. The Adjustment Bureau, based on a Philip K. Dick story.The premise: there’s a plan. But free will continuously shapes and reshapes it.Agents in the bureau — call them guides, call them whatever resonates for you — are constantly adjusting possibilities and probabilities based on the choices we make. They make small tweaks to nudge things back on track.Not overriding our choices. Working through them.That model feels closer to how soul planning actually works than either extreme — pure randomness or pure determinism.It’s not that everything is set in stone. And it’s not that nothing means anything.It’s that there’s a framework, and we’re living inside it with genuine agency.The Part of You That Never Fully ArrivedBefore I move on, I want to pause on something that I think is profound.I believe there’s a larger, wiser aspect of who we are that never fully incarnates.What comes into the body is more like an emissary. An ambassador. A portion of a much greater self that remains, at least in part, on the other side.We call that our higher self or our Oversoul.And that connection — to what remains beyond this physical experience — is always available to us. Even when we can’t feel it. Even in our darkest moments.That’s not just a poetic idea to me. I think that’s literally how this works.Why Are We Here? The Answer Might Be “Yes”Now, for the third question this person raised. And it’s the one I keep turning over in my mind.Do we come here to help others grow? Or for our own development? Or both?My honest answer: yes. It’s both. It’s all of it.Here’s the framework I find most useful, drawn from a series of books called The Team by Frances Key — channeled, from her mother on the other side. The core idea: as individual as we feel inside these bodies, we’re part of something larger. A team. A community. A body.Think of cells in a body. Cells make up organs. Organs make up systems. Systems make up the whole. Every part serves the whole, and the whole sustains every part.When people ask, “Am I here for myself or for the greater good?” — I think the answer is it’s not either/or.It’s both. Always both.Not Everyone Is Here for the Same ReasonHere’s something that shifted my thinking about the people around me.Not every soul comes to Earth for growth or development.Some come to learn through difficulty — and we can see evidence of that everywhere we look. People who face the hardest things and emerge transformed.But as my friend Kelvin Chin points out, not everyone seems to be here to learn or grow. Some people, as he says, appear to be sleeping through school.Maybe they’re here just to taste physical existence. To watch a sunset. To feel love. To experience something that only a body can make possible.Maybe even something as simple as ice cream.That’s not a lesser purpose. It’s a different one.This physical world offers something the other side apparently doesn’t in the same way. And some souls simply want to experience that contrast — the weight, the texture, the beauty, and the pain of being here.The Bodhisattvas Among UsBuddhist tradition describes souls called bodhisattvas — beings who have moved beyond needing Earth as a personal classroom. They arrive specifically to assist others.Some souls may be here not for their own development at all.They come as guides. As catalysts. Sometimes even as the people who cause us the most pain, because that’s what we needed to grow.It’s a humbling idea.It means the most difficult relationships in our lives might carry more meaning than we’ve allowed ourselves to consider.Where You Stand in the Infinite SpectrumOne more thing, and this matters to me deeply.We talk about souls as advanced, or as masters, or as beginners. I sometimes use the term “unskilled” instead of “baby souls” — it feels gentler and more accurate.But here’s what I want you to hear: this is all relative.There’s an almost infinite spectrum of development. And you are always simultaneously a beginner relative to souls further along — and a teacher or master relative to souls just starting out.Before you get too full of yourself for being spiritually advanced, there are almost infinite souls further ahead.Before you get too down on yourself for being a beginner, there are almost infinite souls behind you.You’re always somewhere in the middle.For me, that means humility is the right posture. No matter where you think you stand.And also this: you’re doing just fine. You’re where you need to be. And this isn’t your only chance. Whether you believe in reincarnation or not, this is one small chapter in the much larger life of an eternal soul.The Question I’m Leaving You WithBack to that question someone asked me after my talk.What if we come here just to experience the uncontrollable?What if the greatest curriculum isn’t the lessons we planned — but our response to the things we never could have?What would change for you if you believed that the chaos in your life wasn’t a deviation from the plan — but might actually be the plan?I’d love to hear your thoughts. Drop them in the comments, or reply to this email. These are the conversations that matter most to me.And if this resonates, share it with someone who’s been asking the big questions. Sometimes a different frame is all we need to take the next breath.Brian D. Smith is a grief guide, certified grief educator, and host of the Grief 2 Growth podcast. After losing his daughter Shayna in 2015, Brian dedicated his life to exploring the intersection of grief, consciousness, and hope. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

I used to think “passed away” was just a euphemism.A way to avoid the hard truth.I thought, “Why do they say passed away, transitioned, or went home?” Just be plain. “He died." Don’t sugarcoat it.”My first grief counselor told me, “When you can say ‘died instead of something like passed away,’ you’re on the road to healing.”But the more I learned, the more I realized we “plain speak people” had it backwards.“Died” is the lie.It means cessation. The end of life.But you cannot cease to be.You ARE life.You Are Not Your BodyHere’s what I mean.If you were your body, would you be the same person as the baby that was born with your name?Think about it.Your cells turn over constantly. Skin cells every few weeks. Red blood cells every few months. Most of your body replaces itself every seven to ten years.Virtually none of the cells in your body now are the same cells from when you were born. Certainly, none of the molecules. You eat, you assimilate, you eliminate. There’s constant turnover. Your body is made up of completely different stuff than newborn you, five-year-old you, or even you from a decade ago.The Ship of Theseus—the ancient philosophical paradox—asks: if you replace every plank of a ship, one by one, is it still the same ship? Your body is that ship. It’s been completely rebuilt dozens of times over your lifetime.Yet you’re still you.Why?Because what’s continuous isn’t your body. It’s your consciousness.Your Brain Is a Receiver, Not a Creator of ConsciousnessWe’ve been taught that the brain creates consciousness the way a generator creates electricity.But the evidence points to something different.Your brain is more like a filter. A receiver. Like a radio picking up a signal that exists whether the radio is turned on or not.When the radio breaks, the music doesn’t cease to exist. The broadcast waves are still out there. You just can’t hear it anymore through that particular device.This isn’t just philosophy. Near-death experiencers tell us this consistently.They report expanded consciousness when the brain is compromised. Enhanced awareness when the filter is damaged. They describe experiences that are often more vivid, more real than normal waking consciousness. The brain seems to reduce experience, not create it.Dr. Pim van Lommel’s research showed NDEs occurring during measurable periods of no brain activity. How do you have a lucid experience with a non-functioning creator of consciousness?Because consciousness doesn’t originate in the brain.Even the Government Knows Consciousness Isn’t LocalIf you think the idea that consciousness exists beyond the body is just wishful thinking, think about this: the U.S. government spent over 20 years and $20 million studying it.From 1972 to 1995, the CIA and Defense Intelligence Agency ran a classified program called Stargate. The mission? To see if consciousness could gather intelligence from locations thousands of miles away.Physicists Russell Targ and Harold Puthoff at Stanford Research Institute developed protocols for “remote viewing”—the ability to perceive and describe distant locations without being physically present.And it worked.Remote viewer Pat Price, a former police officer, was given only geographic coordinates for a target site in the Soviet Union. What he described was startling: a large building near water, people assembling a massive 60-foot diameter metal sphere from curved sections, workers struggling with welding because the pieces kept warping.He sketched what he “saw” in remarkable detail.Three years later, Aviation Week magazine published a story about the Soviet atomic bomb laboratory at Semipalatinsk. The sphere Price had described—which he’d drawn as about 58 feet in diameter—was real. It was designed to capture and store energy from nuclear-driven explosives.Russell Targ, a physicist, later said: “The accuracy of Price’s drawing is the sort of thing that I as a physicist would never have believed, if I had not seen it for myself.”The program achieved a reported accuracy rate of 65% or higher in later experiments. Remote viewers located a downed Soviet aircraft in Africa. They described hidden Soviet military installations. They identified the location of a kidnapped American general in Italy.For over two decades, the government used this capability because it demonstrated something they couldn’t ignore: consciousness can operate independent of the physical body. It can access information across vast distances without any known physical mechanism.Think about what this means.If your consciousness can “see” what’s happening thousands of miles away while your body sits in a room in California, then consciousness clearly isn’t created by your brain or confined to your skull.The government knows this. They studied it. They used it. They just don’t talk about it much.This isn’t fringe science. This is documented, declassified government research that ran for over 20 years because it produced results.Consciousness is non-local. It’s not bound by space. It’s not confined to the body.And if it’s not confined to the body in this life, why would it be extinguished when the body stops functioning?Immediately Outside the BodyLet’s move from a subject in a lab to the real world. One of the most common features of near-death experiences is what happens in the first instant.People don’t report confusion or darkness or a gradual fading.They report finding themselves immediately outside their bodies, watching the scene unfold.About one in ten cardiac arrest patients reports a near-death experience. Of those, roughly a quarter describe out-of-body experiences where they observe medical personnel performing resuscitation efforts.This account from a woman who experienced complications during childbirth is but one of thousands of examples.The obstetrician yelled, “Get her into the O.R. now!” and suddenly she found herself—the essence of herself—floating in the corner of the labor room, near the ceiling, looking down on the scene. She watched as they rushed her body to the operating room and tried to resuscitate both her and her baby. She felt no emotion. Just observation. Just awareness.Or the case of Pam Reynolds, perhaps the most documented near-death experience in medical literature.In 1991, Pam underwent brain surgery to remove a dangerous aneurysm. The procedure required lowering her body temperature to 60 degrees, stopping her heart, and draining the blood from her brain. Her brainwave activity flatlined. By every medical measure, she was clinically dead.During the operation, she heard the bone saw start up—a sound she described as “a natural D.” She felt it pull her out of the top of her head.Suddenly, she was floating above the operating table, watching Dr. Spetzler work. She saw the surgical saw, which she said looked “like an electric toothbrush.” She observed the interchangeable blades stored in “what looked like a socket wrench case.” She heard the surgeon say, “Her arteries and veins are too small,” followed by “Use the other side.”Her eyes were taped shut. Her ears were plugged with speakers emitting clicks to monitor her brainstem. She was under deep anesthesia with no detectable brain function.Yet every detail she reported was later confirmed as accurate.How does someone with no brain activity, eyes taped shut, and ears plugged see, hear, and remember precise details about a scene?Because they were there. Just not in their body.There Isn’t Even an InterruptionNear-death experiencers say something remarkable about the moment of transition. Some leave through the tops of their heads, some through their chest. Some just “pop” out. But, there’s no gap. No darkness. No void. No fade to black.You’re here, then you’re there.One woman told me, “It was like walking from one room into another. Completely seamless.”Another said, “I didn’t die. I woke up.”A third described it as, “I felt more aware than normal. My vision was brighter, more focused, clearer than normal vision. I was absolutely me—without the body.”Think about that. The moment we call “death”—the thing we fear most—isn’t experienced as an ending at all. It’s a continuation. A shift in location, not a cessation of being.The body stops. But you don’t.Dying Is Like Leaving Your Old Car BehindDying is like leaving your old car behind when you get a new one. My car was just totaled. The car is left behind. Broken down. No longer functional.But I moved on.I was never the car. I was the driver.The body dies. Consciousness continues.This isn’t wishful thinking or spiritual bypassing. It’s what the evidence points to. What thousands of near-death experiencers report. What the research into consciousness suggests. What the government’s own classified programs confirmed.And it changes everything about how we understand grief.What This Means for GriefWhen my daughter Shayna passed, everyone told me she “died”, including that first grief counselorThat word carried so much weight. So much finality.It meant I had to “accept” that she was gone. That she ceased to exist. That there was nothing left of the person I loved.But as I studied near-death experiences, spoke with mediums, researched consciousness, I realized the truth.She didn’t die. She couldn’t die.She passed away. She transitioned. She went home. She crossed over.Those aren’t euphemisms to soften the blow.They’re the most accurate descriptions we have for what actually happened.Her body stopped functioning. But she—the consciousness, the essence, the person I knew and loved—continues.This doesn’t eliminate grief. The loss is still profound. The absence is still painful.But it transforms the nature of what we’re grieving.We’re not grieving someone who ceased to exist.We’re grieving the loss of physical presence. The inability to hug them, hear their voice, share our days with them in the way we’re accustomed to.That’s real. That’s valid. That deserves to be felt fully.But it’s not the same as believing they’ve been annihilated. Erased. Extinguished from existence.The Real Truth“Died” implies an end that never comes.“Passed away” describes the reality: a shift in form, not an extinction of being.So when someone tells you that you need to “accept death as the end” to heal, you can know they’re wrong.The real healing comes when you accept the truth: your loved one didn’t cease to exist.They just left their old car behind.And they’re doing just fine without it.In fact, based on what near-death experiencers consistently report—the peace, the clarity, the expanded awareness, the reunions with loved ones—they’re doing better than fine.They’re home.So What Language Actually Makes Sense?If “died” is a lie, what should we say instead?I work with medium John Edward, and he uses the language of “crossing over.” That’s his signature phrase, and it’s remarkably accurate. It captures the movement from one state to another—a transition, not a termination.“Transitioned” is another excellent term. It acknowledges change without implying cessation.I’ve read work by authors who use “risen”—which beautifully conveys the opposite of what “died” suggests. Not a descent into nothingness, but an ascent into expanded existence.“Passed away” isn’t the euphemism I once thought it was. It’s actually more truthful than “died.” They passed from one form of existence to another. They moved away from the physical plane.The language we use matters.It shapes how we think. How we grieve. How we relate to those we love who are no longer in physical form.When we say someone “died,” we’re reinforcing a lie that makes grief harder than it needs to be.When we say they “crossed over,” “transitioned,” “passed away,” or “rose”—we’re acknowledging the truth: they’re still them. Just in a different form. In a different location.Still conscious. Still aware. Still connected to us.Just no longer confined to a physical body.💜 Like if you’ve been told you need to “accept” death as the end♻️ Restack for someone who needs to know their loved one didn’t cease to exist This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

I hate him.I can and should hate this malevolence.All decent, loving, compassionate people should.Every person claiming to care about what Jesus cared about should hate it.Good people should unapologetically hate atrocities against humanity.Christians should be fighting it instead of cultivating it.* John PavlovitzI hear it a lot lately.A Christian I follow and greatly admire just posted about why we should hate him. Smart people. Good people. People whose wisdom I’ve trusted for years—all saying the same thing. The title of the post this quote is from, “You’re right to hate him. Good people do.”Always the contrarian, I disagree. Sorry, John.Here’s why I can’t get on board with hate, even when it feels righteous.No One Knowingly Does EvilPeople always feel justified in what they do. Always.The person you despise? They have a story they’re telling themselves. A narrative where they’re the hero, or at least where their actions make sense. They’ve constructed a worldview—however twisted—that validates every choice.This doesn’t excuse anything. But understanding it matters.Because when we reduce someone to “evil,” we stop trying to understand how we got here. We stop asking the hard questions about systems, about trauma, about the conditions that create cruelty.People Aren’t Evil—They Do EvilEvil isn’t a person. It’s the absence of good. The absence of Love.A friend introduced me to this concept many years ago. I resisted. I looked for exceptions. I fought it until it won me over.People are deluded. Living in shadow. Unskilled in compassion. Ignorant of their own wounding and how it spills onto others. But the person themselves? Not evil. Capable of evil, yes. Currently doing evil, yep. But not fundamentally, irredeemably evil.You might think I’m playing semantic games. But if you’ve read me for any time, you know how much I value precision in language.There’s a vast difference between “I hate him” and “I hate what he does.” While I agree with John’s point about hating the malevolence and fighting it. I disagree with his giving us permission to hate the person, even calling us to it.Between “He is evil” and “He does evil.”We Are All Made in the Image of the CreatorThis is where it gets uncomfortable.If we’re all One—if we’re all expressions of the same Source—then hating another person is hating a part of yourself.It’s like a cell in the body attacking another cell. The whole organism suffers.I’m not asking you to like him. I’m not asking you to excuse what he does or to “understand both sides” in some false equivalence.I detest what he does. I cannot wait until the day he can no longer do it.But I will not stoop to hating him or thinking him evil.See Clearly. Call Evil Evil.Let me be crystal clear: I’m not soft on evil.I call evil what it is. Cruelty is cruelty. Exploitation is exploitation. Harm is harm.Seeing someone as fundamentally human doesn’t mean pretending their actions aren’t causing real damage. It means looking directly at what they’re doing with steely-eyed clarity and naming it.No spiritual bypassing. No toxic positivity. No, “it’s all love and light.”Evil actions must be seen, named, and opposed.Love Always Wins (But It Might Take a While)Here’s what I hold onto: Love always wins. Always.Not in some Pollyanna way. Not because I’m naive about how dark things can get.But because Love is the fundamental nature of reality. It’s what we’re made of. It’s where we’re going.The question isn’t whether Love wins. It’s whether we’ll align ourselves with it while we’re here.And yes—it might take a while. Longer than we’d like. Longer than feels fair.But that waiting, that apparent delay? It doesn’t change the outcome.What Would Love Do?So with clear eyes that see evil for what it is, and with faith that Love ultimately prevails, I ask myself the only question that matters:What would Love do?Not “what feels good” or “what makes me look enlightened” or “what’s easiest.”What would Love do in response to this specific harm, in this specific moment?Sometimes Love opposes fiercely. Sometimes Love protects boundaries. Sometimes Love says no with absolute conviction.Love isn’t weak. Love isn’t passive. Love doesn’t tolerate abuse.But Love also doesn’t hate the person while fighting their actions.Love sees the humanity even while stopping the harm.The Real Challenge: Loving Beyond the Easy OnesSome people are easy to love. Your kids. Your partner. Your friends. The neighbor who waves every morning.But Jesus pointed out that even tax collectors and pagans love those who love them back. What’s remarkable about that?His challenge was harder: “Love your enemies. Pray for those who persecute you.”Not because your enemies deserve it. Not because what they’re doing is okay.But because that’s the only love that actually transforms anything.Loving people who are easy to love doesn’t stretch you. It doesn’t grow you. It doesn’t challenge the parts of you that want to divide the world into “us” and “them,” “good people” and “evil people.”Loving your enemy—seeing their humanity while opposing their harm—that’s the spiritual work that actually changes things.It’s also the hardest damn thing you’ll ever do.The Trap of HateHere’s what hate does: It binds you to the very thing you despise.It keeps you in reaction mode. It clouds your judgment. It makes you more like the thing you oppose because now you’re operating from the same energy—division, contempt, dehumanization.And strategically? Hate makes you less effective.You can’t dismantle what you don’t understand. You can’t protect what you’re too angry to think clearly about.I choose discernment over hate. Fierce opposition over contempt. Strategic action over reactive rage.I choose to remember that everyone—everyone—is doing the best they can with the consciousness they currently have.That doesn’t mean I roll over. It doesn’t mean I stop fighting for what’s right.It means I fight with clarity. With strategy. With an open heart that refuses to close even when closing feels safer.What about you? When you hold these three truths together—seeing evil clearly, trusting Love’s victory, and asking what Love would do—how does it change your response to harm?I’d love to hear your thoughts. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

TL;DRGrief ambushes you at random—at the grocery store, in the car, at work. Emotional regulation isn’t about controlling your feelings or forcing positivity. It’s about intentionally moving through them.I use a 6-mile walk with three playlist phases:* Processing grief with sad/angry music (Evanescence, Linkin Park)* Transitioning with songs that hold both pain and hope (JEM, “The Climb”)* Rising with uplifting music about reunion and growth (Stevie Wonder, Kenny Loggins)Create your own version: pick your practice (walk, drive, bath), build your playlists, make it routine. You can’t control when grief hits, but you can decide when and how to process it.The ambush happens when you least expect itYou’re at the grocery store, and a song comes on. You’re driving to work and pass the hospital where they died. You’re fine, you’re functioning, you’re holding it together, until you’re not.The anger slams into you. The longing swallows you whole. The sadness wraps around your chest until you can barely breathe.This is emotional dysregulation. When your emotions control you. When grief decides when and where it’s going to flatten you.And everyone talks about it. The breakdowns. The triggers. The moments when you lose it in public and feel like you’re losing your mind.But what we don’t talk about enough is the other side: emotional regulation.Emotional regulation is not controlling your emotions. Not forcing yourself to “stay positive.” Not spiritual bypassing with gratitude journals and toxic positivity.Real emotional regulation is something different. It’s the intentional movement through your emotions. All of them. The ugly ones, the scary ones, the ones that make you want to crawl back into bed and never come out. By giving yourself a safe, intentional space to let those emotions move through you, you reduce the risk of an ambush.Stick with me to the end. I’m going to give you a practical way to use emotional regulation and we’re going to practice this!The Feedback Loop You Can’t IgnoreYour thoughts and emotions exist in a constant feedback loop. Negative thoughts trigger negative emotions. Those emotions reinforce negative thoughts. Round and round it goes, pulling you deeper into the spiral.But here’s what makes this powerful: the same loop works in reverse. Positive emotions can shift your thoughts. Positive thoughts can shift your emotional state.The key is you can’t skip the hard part. You can’t bypass sadness and land on gratitude. You have to walk through it.Try This Right NowBefore I show you my technique, let’s prove this feedback loop is real. You need to experience it in your body, not just understand it intellectually.Find a quiet space where you can close your eyes for a few minutes. We’re going to deliberately shift your emotional state using only your thoughts.First, think of something mildly irritating from your past. Not the death of someone you love—we’re not trying to blow out your emotions here. Choose something smaller. An argument with your partner. Someone cutting you off in traffic. Getting passed over for a promotion. That frustrating interaction with customer service.Close your eyes. Bring that memory into focus. What were you wearing? What did the other person say? How did it feel in the moment?Sit with it for 30 seconds.Now check in with your body. How do you feel right now? Is there tension in your jaw? Tightness in your chest? Has your mood shifted even slightly toward irritation or frustration?Notice that. You just changed your emotional state by directing your thoughts to something negative.Now, shift to a happy memory. A birthday party with your kids. Your favorite vacation. Your wedding day. The day you got your dog. A perfect meal with friends. You choose.Close your eyes again. Really feel into it. Who was there? What were you wearing? What did it smell like? What made you laugh?Sit with this memory for 30 seconds.Now check in again. Has your mood lifted, even slightly? Do you feel a little lighter? Maybe a small smile at the corner of your mouth?That’s the feedback loop in action. Your thoughts directly influenced your emotions. And those emotions are now influencing your thoughts—pulling you toward more memories that match that emotional state.This is why grief can spiral. One sad thought leads to a sad emotion, which leads to more sad thoughts, which deepen the emotion.But here’s the powerful part: if thoughts can pull you down, thoughts can also guide you back up. Not by denying the hard emotions, but by moving through them intentionally.Let me show you how.My Deliberate Emotional JourneyEvery morning, I walk six miles. And I use those miles to regulate my emotions, intentionally.This isn’t random. It’s a deliberate arc: processing or metabolizing “negative” emotions (less desirable), transitioning, rising, or reinforcing desirable emotions. Music is the vehicle that carries me through each phase.I do this by curating a list of songs designed to trigger emotions in me. Yes, I am deliberately activating emotions like longing, anger, and sadness.This is what it means to be planted, not buried. I’m not stuffing grief down into the soil, pretending it doesn’t exist. I’m using it to grow upward. I’m moving through it with intention.Let me show you exactly how this works.Your Emotional Regulation Playlist: The Complete ArcHere’s what this looks like in practice—an actual playlist that takes you through the full emotional journey.Your songs will be different than mine. Your arc might take a different shape. But the structure—process, bridge, rise—that’s universal. This isn’t about copying my playlist. It’s about understanding how to create your own.If you want my playlist, here you go!PART 1: PROCESSING THE GRIEF (Miles 1-3)These songs give voice to what you’re feeling. They don’t fix it. They witness it.“My Heart Is Broken” - EvanescenceRaw desperation. The feeling that you can’t go on. This song doesn’t try to make you feel better—it lets you feel broken. The summer Shayna passed, I listened to Evanescence’s self-titled album almost every single day for months. This track became my anthem for those days when breathing felt impossible.“Lost in Paradise” - EvanescenceThe disorientation of grief. You’re somewhere that should be beautiful, but you can’t feel it. Everything is muted. You’re physically present but emotionally somewhere else entirely.“The Other Side” - EvanescencePure longing. Wanting to cross over to where they are. This is the ache that never quite goes away—the desperate desire to be reunited with the person you lost.“Tracks of My Tears” - Go WestThe mask we wear. The pain we hide. This song acknowledges that you’re functioning on the surface while breaking underneath. There’s something validating about hearing your hidden grief named out loud.“Numb” - Linkin ParkFeeling disconnected from everyone and everything. The exhaustion of trying to be what everyone needs you to be when you can barely hold yourself together.“In the End” - Linkin ParkThe futility. You tried so hard, did everything right, and still lost what mattered most. Sometimes you need a song that says “yeah, it’s not fair, and it hurts like hell.”“Breaking the Habit” - Linkin ParkThe cycles you can’t escape. Falling back into the same patterns of pain, the same thoughts, the same agonizing loops.“Going Under” - EvanescenceDrowning. Suffocating. This is for those days when grief feels like it’s pulling you under and you’re not sure you can come back up.“Lithium” - EvanescenceCycling between pain and numbness. Neither feels good, but at least numbness doesn’t hurt as much. This song captures that desperate negotiation with your own feelings.By this point in my walk, I’ve cried. I’ve felt the anger. I’ve acknowledged the longing. I’m not stuffing it down. I’m not pretending. I’m honoring what’s real.And here’s the thing: listening to sad music doesn’t make me sadder. It gives my sadness a container. It makes me feel less alone. Someone else took the time to write down, to perform, the words that mean so much to me. Amy Lee knows my pain. Chester Bennington knows my anger. You share this universal thing with another human being who understands.PART 2: THE BRIDGE - HOLDING BOTH TRUTHS (The Turn for Home)This is the pivot point. These songs don’t deny the pain, but they begin to shift your gaze toward hope.This is the most important part of the entire technique: you can’t go straight from “My Heart Is Broken” to “Walking on Sunshine.” Your nervous system will reject it. It’ll feel false, like you’re lying to yourself.You need songs that say “this is brutally hard AND you’re going to survive it.” Songs that hold both truths at the same time. The pain is real. Your resilience is real too.“You Will Make It” - JEM“You will make it through this.” This song sits perfectly in that liminal space between acknowledging how hard it is and believing you’ll survive it. It’s not bypassing—it’s that gentle hand on your shoulder saying “I see your pain, and I believe in your resilience.”“Hall of Fame” - The Script ft. will.i.amAspirational but grounded. It acknowledges where you are while lifting your eyes to what’s possible. “You can be a champion” even when you’re in the struggle. Especially when you’re in the struggle.“The Climb” - Miley CyrusMaybe the ultimate transition song. It’s literally about the journey being hard but that’s where the growth happens. “Keep on moving, keep climbing, keep the faith.” It doesn’t promise it gets easy. It promises it’s worth it.This is where the real emotional regulation happens. I’m not flipping a switch from sad to happy. I’m acknowledging “yes, this is brutally hard AND I’m choosing to keep moving toward life.”PART 3: RISING TOWARD LIFE (Miles 4-6)By the time I hit these songs, I’m ready to lift my head. To remember what I’m living for.“Sweet Reunion” - Kenny LogginsThis one’s about coming back together. About the promise that separation isn’t forever. It lifts me up with the reminder that Shayna and I will be reunited. Not as a someday fantasy, but as a spiritual certainty grounded in evidence and experience.“Higher Ground” - Stevie WonderI didn’t learn until much later in life that this song is about reincarnation. About spiritual evolution. About moving upward even through struggle. It shifts my perspective from “why did this happen to me” to “what am I meant to learn and become through this?”“A Place With No Name” - Michael JacksonThere’s something hopeful and mysterious about this song. It points toward something beyond our everyday reality—a place of peace, of reunion, of transformation. It helps me remember that physical death isn’t the end of the story.“Here Comes the Sun” - The BeatlesAfter the long, cold, lonely winter—here comes the sun. It’s been a long time. But things are getting better. This song acknowledges the darkness while celebrating the light breaking through.“I Can See Clearly Now” - Johnny NashThe obstacles are removed. You can see the bright, bright sunlit way. Not because the rain never happened, but because it’s passed. The clouds are gone and you can see forward again.“Walking on Sunshine” - Katrina and the WavesPure joy. By this point in my walk, I’m ready for it. I’ve earned it. I’ve walked through the valley and I’m climbing back out into the light.“Don’t Stop Believin’” - JourneyKeep going. Don’t give up. The journey continues. This is about persistence and hope and refusing to let grief have the final word.“Rise Up” - Andra DayThe resilience anthem. “I’ll rise up, I’ll rise like the day, I’ll rise up in spite of the ache.” This is choosing life even when life has broken your heart.By the time I reach my house and I’m starting my day, I’ve gone through the complete cycle. I’ve processed the guilt, the anger, the sadness, the longing. I’ve gotten all that stuff out. I’ve cried the tears that needed to be cried. (And tears are good for you—I wrote a whole article on that recently.)And then I’ve reset myself. I’m starting my day with gratitude, with hope, with the ability to look forward.Why This WorksWhen you listen to music that matches your emotional state, something powerful happens. You’re not suppressing or avoiding—you’re processing. You’re giving your nervous system permission to feel what it’s feeling in a safe, bounded container.And here’s the key: you’re doing it intentionally.You’re not waiting for grief to ambush you at the grocery store or flatten you in the middle of your workday. You’re creating space for it. Honoring it. Moving through it. And then gently guiding yourself back to the surface.This is the opposite of emotional dysregulation, where feelings control you.This is also the opposite of toxic positivity, where you pretend feelings don’t exist.This is intentional movement through the full spectrum of human emotion.How to Customize This Practice for Your LifeMaybe it’s not a 6-mile walk for you. Maybe it’s:* A 20-minute drive to work* Your morning coffee ritual* An evening bath* A workout at the gym* Journaling with background musicThe practice doesn’t matter. The structure does:* Create space for the difficult emotions* Honor them fully—don’t rush through or minimize* Intentionally shift toward emotions that serve your forward movement* Make it routine so your nervous system knows what to expectAnd the music doesn’t have to be these songs. What matters is finding:* Songs that witness your pain* Songs that hold both pain and promise* Songs that lift your eyes toward hope and meaningThe Gift of Going ThroughHere’s what I know after years of walking those six miles: the only way out is through. But “through” doesn’t have to be chaotic. It doesn’t have to be random. It doesn’t have to flatten you when you least expect it.You can create a container for your grief. You can give it time and space and music and tears. And then you can gently—without denying its existence—guide yourself back to the surface.That’s emotional regulation. Not control. Not denial. Intentional movement.You can’t control when grief hits. But you can decide when and how to process it.Grief will ambush you. But it doesn’t have to control you.Create the container. Walk through it. Rise.What songs give voice to your grief? What songs help you rise toward life again? I’d love to hear how you move through your emotions intentionally. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching for the tissue box. “I didn’t mean to cry.”I hear this in almost every session. Clients apologizing for their tears. As if grief should be neat and dry. As if showing emotion is something to be embarrassed about.But here’s what I always tell them: Please don’t apologize. This is exactly what’s supposed to happen.When I see tears in a session, I don’t see weakness or loss of control. I see processing. I see grief moving through someone instead of staying stuck inside them. Tears are one of the clearest signs that healing work is happening.Yet so many people fight them. They blink hard. Hold their breath. Push the wave back down. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

This morning, Tampa, Florida was colder than Juneau, Alaska.Let that sink in. The Sunshine State shivered at 27°F while the Alaskan capital sat at a balmy 33°F. Polar vortexes buckling. Weather patterns flipping upside down.And honestly? The weather is the least of it.Our leaders are being exposed as predators. Not just ripping us off economically. They’re actual sexual predators. The economy feels like a house of cards held together by hope, bubble gum, and duct tape. AI threatens to take all of our jobs. The institutions we trusted to hold things together seem to be crumbling in real time.If you’re feeling like the ground beneath your feet is shifting, you’re not imagining it. It is.So what do we do?I’ve spent nearly a decade helping people navigate the worst moments of their lives. After my daughter Shayna passed suddenly in 2015, I had to figure out how to survive when everything I thought I knew about life got ripped away. What I learned then applies now more than ever.There are three things we need to survive trying times. Not one. Not two. Three— working together.Be Realistic About Your SituationI am not a fan of spiritual bypassing.You know what I mean. That tendency to slap a “everything happens for a reason” sticker over genuine pain. To pretend things are fine when they’re clearly not. To “love and light” our way past real problems that demand real attention. Bull hockey.Sometimes things suck. And it’s not just okay to say they suck—it’s necessary.We cannot confront a problem until we realistically assess it. Denial isn’t protection. It’s just delayed reckoning.This doesn’t mean drowning in negativity, either. It means looking clearly at what’s in front of you. Acknowledging the difficulties without catastrophizing. Seeing reality as it is, not as you wish it were or fear it might become.That clear seeing? That’s where wisdom starts. That’s when we move to step two.Keep Faith That Love WinsHere’s where it gets tricky. Because after I tell you to be realistic, I’m going to tell you something that sounds like its opposite.I believe everything will turn out okay in the end.Not naive optimism. Not wishful thinking. Something deeper. Something earned through walking through the fire and coming out the other side.John Lennon said it best: “Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.”This is my type of faith. Not faith that bad things won’t happen. Not faith that I’ll be spared difficulty. Faith that Love wins in the end. Always. No matter what it looks like in the middle of the storm.I’ve studied near-death experiences for years. I’ve talked to hundreds of people who’ve glimpsed what’s on the other side. And if there’s one consistent message they bring back, it’s this: Love is the only thing that’s ultimately real. And Love always wins.The arc of the universe bends toward light—even when you can’t see it. Take the Right Action at the Right TimeStep three. We don’t rest on the promise that everything’s going to turn out OK because Love isn’t passive. Love doesn’t win without us.Faith isn’t passive. It’s not sitting back and waiting for the universe to sort things out while we binge Netflix and doomscroll. Love needs hands. It needs feet. It needs us to show up and do the work.This is the third key, and it’s where it’s easy to get tripped up.Outrage moves fast, but it often moves wrong. How many times have you fired off that angry email, that heated social media post, that sharp word—only to regret it later? Reaction isn’t action. It’s reflex. And reflexes don’t solve complex problems.Despair, on the other hand, doesn’t move at all. It extinguishes the ability to act. It whispers that nothing matters, nothing will help, so why bother trying?The ground between outrage and despair—that’s where real change happens. Clarity first. Then action. Not before.Right action at the right time. Not too fast. Not too slow. Not paralyzed by fear. Not driven by rage. Discerned. Deliberate. Aligned with the deeper knowing that Love will prevail.Holding All ThreeThese three things aren’t a checklist. They’re a practice.Be realistic about your situation. Keep faith that Love wins. Take the right action at the right time.Not one of these alone. All three. Together. In dynamic tension with each other. Each one tempering and strengthening the others.Realism without faith becomes despair. Faith without realism becomes delusion. Either one without action becomes impotence.But all three together? That’s how we survive. That’s how we do more than survive. That’s how we transform.I won’t pretend these are easy times. They’re not. The polar vortex isn’t just disrupting weather patterns—it feels like everything is getting scrambled. Old certainties are melting. Trusted structures are buckling.But I’ve seen what humans are capable of when they hold these three things together. I’ve watched people walk through unimaginable loss and come out transformed. Not unchanged—transformed. Deeper. More compassionate. More alive.We’re going to get through this. Not because things will magically get easier. But because Love wins. It always has. It always will.And because people like you are willing to do the work. To see clearly. To trust deeply. To act wisely.That’s enough. It’s always been enough.What’s helping you hold it together right now? I’d genuinely like to know. Leave a comment below or reach out—these conversations matter more than ever. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

TL;DRI’m 51/100 of the way to Substack Bestseller status. I’m offering limited-time discount tiers ($2, $4, or $6/month for your first year) until I hit 100 paid subscribers—then they close forever. Only 49 spots left. This is my full-time work, and paid subscriptions help sustain the mission: creating space for honest wrestling with faith, questions, doubt, and hope.Scroll down to see the discount tiers.Since you’re reading this, there’s a better than 98% chance you’re a free subscriber.That’s not hyperbole—it’s math. About 1.5% of the people who subscribe to this newsletter pay for it. Which means that when I put something behind a paywall, 98% of the people who might be interested in it won’t see it.That’s why I rarely paywall anything. I want these reflections, questions, and stories to stay accessible—whether or not someone can pay.But here’s the hard truth: this work isn’t free to create. So today, I want to share why I have a paid option, why it matters, and how even one subscription can make a real difference. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

I don’t know how to do this.You were the first to see me in the morning and the last at night. My days began and ended because you were there to hold them.When I had a good day, you made me tell it again, so we could live it twice.When I had a bad one, you listened while I unloaded everything, never trying to fix the weight of it. Just being with me. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

I was so excited about coming to Earth.I had it all planned out.The people I would love.The life I thought I was going to live.I couldn’t wait.I heard Earth was this great adventure.And just before I left, as I was turning toward the door,someone gently pulled me aside.Not urgently.Not dramatically.Just enough to make me stop.And they said:One last thing.Before you go, there are a few things to remember.You will forget almost everything.Where you came from.Why you chose this life.How certain you were that love would survive even death.This forgetting is not a mistake.It’s the cost of total immersion.You are not being sent.You are volunteering.You will enter a body that feels vulnerable.A world that feels heavy.Time will move only in one direction,and answers will not arrive on schedule.That’s part of the design.You will love deeply,and you will lose.Not as punishment,but as initiation.When someone you love leaves their body,it will feel like the end of everything.It is not.It is a change in how love speaks.Love does not end.It learns a new language.You will be tempted to believe that silence means absence.It doesn’t.Some forms of communication are quieterand require stillness to hear.You will feel anger—at God,at fate,at the very idea that this was planned.Your honesty matters more than your politeness.Do not rush your grief.Grief is not something to fix.It’s something to listen to.You will try to return to who you were before.You cannot.That version of you completed its assignment.You are here to become someone who can holdboth love and loss,certainty and mystery,attachment and freedom.There will be moments when you wonderif any of this mattered.It did.It does.It will.And when the homesickness comes—the longing for something you can’t quite name—remember this:Even the most beautiful journeycreates a desire to go home.And after everything—the loving,the losing,the questioning—there is one thing I hope you remember.When you’re there,there will be voices.Oh yes, there will be many voices.Some will tell you that your body is all there is.That there was nothing before,nothing after,and that nothing really matters.Other voices will tell you that they have all the answers.That if you just follow them,believe what they say,do what they do,everything will be fine.And if you don’t listen,they will threaten you—with guilt,with fear,with punishment.Here is the key, my friend.The voice you’re listening foris not out there.It’s the one inside you.The still, small voice within.Now, you won’t be able to remembereverything I’m telling you now.The greater part of youwill be left here.But if you can remember this—if you can remember to turn within,to listen beneath the noise—you will be fine.When your time there ends,you will not be evaluatedby how productive you were,or how well you performed.You will be recognizedby how deeply you loved.The relationships you havedo not end at death.They mature.You’ve done this before.You will do it again.For now, forget.You’ll rememberwhen it matters most This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

I’m a solar-driven person.All year long, we’re told that after December 22nd, “the light returns.”It sounds dramatic. Reassuring. Almost instant.But that’s not really how it works.The winter solstice isn’t the sudden return of light — it’s simply the end of the descent into darkness.The turnaround is real, but it’s subtle. At first, the change is measured in seconds, not minutes.Sunrise still comes painfully late. The days don’t suddenly feel brighter. You have to trust the math, not your mood.And yet… something important has shifted.By the end of January, here in Ohio, we’ll gain roughly 40 minutes of daylight. Not all at once. Not evenly. Day by day. Small, almost imperceptible changes that quietly add up.Grief works the same way.When someone we love dies, we often wait for the day the light comes back — the morning we wake up and feel like ourselves again. But healing doesn’t arrive like flipping a switch. It arrives like January sunlight: slowly, inconsistently, sometimes so subtly you doubt it’s happening at all.First, it’s a second of peace.Then a moment where you breathe without effort.Then a short walk that doesn’t feel as heavy.Then one evening where the darkness doesn’t last quite as long.You’re not failing because the light hasn’t flooded back yet.You’re adjusting — one day, one second, one small shift at a time.The light is returning.It just doesn’t announce itself.And maybe that’s the most honest kind of hope there is. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

Something is happening right now that feels different.It’s not just the headlines.It’s not just politics.It’s not even just fear or anger.It’s the feeling of being constantly provoked. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

I didn’t expect to encounter an old fear when I started watching Pluribus.I thought I was just watching a piece of science fiction.Instead, I found myself staring directly at a fear I’ve been circling for years—one that has changed shape many times over my life. It’s the fear(s) of death. It’s not a single fear, but a progression: fear of punishment. Then, fear of annihilation— nothingness. That fear was then eased by the belief that we continue without punishment. And then—unexpectedly—fear stirred again by the idea of Oneness itself. A different form of annihilation— being absorbed.Here’s where I’ve been and where I am now with this ever-changing fear of death. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

Fresh grief doesn’t need fixing. It needs room to breathe.There is a moment—often right after the casseroles stop coming—when people start reaching for words they hope will help. Platitudes arrive dressed as comfort. God needed another angel. You’re young—you can have more children. You’re young—you can find someone else. These phrases may be well-intended, but in fresh grief they land like stones. They ask you to move on before your nervous system has even caught up with what happened. There’s a time to look forward to brighter days.This is not that time. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

When my daughter Shayna passed, I was searching for anything that could help me make sense of my grief. That’s when I discovered the animated film Coco. Like many, I found comfort in its message—that our loved ones continue to “live” as long as we remember them. It was beautiful, heartwarming, and—at the time—exactly what I needed.But now, with the spiritual understanding I’ve gained over the years, I have to take a step back and say: That’s not the whole story.🎬 What Is Coco About?For those unfamiliar, Coco is a Disney/Pixar film set during Día de los Muertos—the Day of the Dead, a Mexican tradition honoring those who have passed on. It follows a young boy named Miguel who accidentally crosses into the Land of the Dead. There, he meets his ancestors and learns that spirits only continue to exist as long as someone in the living world remembers them. Once they are forgotten, they experience what the movie calls the “Final Death”—a kind of second, permanent disappearance.The film’s emotional arc hinges on the idea that remembering our loved ones keeps them “alive.” It’s a powerful message, especially for grieving hearts—but it’s also one that deserves a closer look.🧠 A Quantum Analogy—Misapplied?Coco's view echoes a popular interpretation in quantum physics: that the presence of an observer determines what becomes “real.” But in this case, it’s suggesting that we—the ones left behind—are the only observers that matter. That our remembering gives our loved ones form, and when that memory fades, so do they.But let me ask you: Is that really all there is to them?🌌 Our Loved Ones Are Not Dependent on Our MemoryThe truth I’ve come to understand is this: Our loved ones are not figments of memory. They’re not just echoes or shadows living in our stories. They continue to exist—not because we remember them, but because they are real, alive in a world just as real (if not more real) than the one we live in now.When our loved ones cross over, they don’t go into some memory-shaped dimension held together by photo frames. They go Home. A place of joy, wholeness, love, and growth. They are doing their own work, evolving, watching over us—not passively waiting in a purgatory of our minds, but thriving in a reality where they are central, just as we are here.🙏🏽 Memory Matters—But It’s For UsNow, don’t get me wrong—memory is important. Coco captures something profoundly human about the way we carry those we love. Remembering helps us heal. It helps us feel connected. It helps keep our relationships alive in our hearts.And it’s natural to worry about losing that connection. Most of my clients, at some point, share a fear that their loved one will be forgotten—especially when that person was young, or had only been known for a short time.When Shayna passed at just 15, we set up a scholarship fund in her name to help keep her memory alive. I worried she might fade from people’s lives. Her friends had only known her for a few short years. But now, a full decade later, I’m amazed by how many of them still remember her—really remember her—and keep her spirit close in their lives.At one point, I worried Shayna would become “only a memory” to me… that she might become less real as time went on. But now I know those fears were unfounded. My grandmother passed over 40 years ago, and I can still picture her face, hear her voice, feel the touch of her hands. The connection is still there. It’s in my bones.This fear—that our loved ones will be forgotten—is deeply human. But it’s not something that will happen. Whether or not we build memorials, create scholarships, or write books, their legacy lives on. Those things are beautiful and meaningful—yes—but if you never do any of them, your loved one’s essence, their impact, their love, will not be diminished.They are remembered in the very fabric of your being. And beyond memory, they exist—not as a thought, but as a soul.🏠 Earth Is Not the Center. This Is Not Home.One of the biggest misconceptions we hold is that this life, this Earth, is the center of it all. That the real action stops when someone dies. But in reality, this is school, not Home. And when our loved ones graduate, they don’t vanish—they go back to where we all come from.And yes, they’re still connected to us. They send signs. They visit in dreams. They whisper into our intuition. But they’re not floating in some half-existence, waiting to be remembered so they can stay alive. They are fully alive. And when it’s our time, we’ll see them again—not as distant memories, but as vibrant souls continuing their journey.❤️ I Still Love Coco—But I No Longer Believe Its PremiseI want to be clear: Coco helped me. It opened my heart at a time when I needed it. But now, I see its central message as limited. Comforting, yes—but incomplete. And sometimes, our grief needs more than poetry. It needs truth.The truth is, your loved one is still with you. Not because you remember them—but because you are forever connected, soul to soul. And no “Final Death” will ever change that.✍🏽 Join the ConversationIf this perspective resonates with you—or if Coco meant something to you during your grief—I’d love to hear your thoughts. You’re not alone.And neither are they.— Brian This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

I’m a solar-driven person.All year long, we’re told that after December 22nd, “the light returns.”It sounds dramatic. Reassuring. Almost instant.But that’s not really how it works.The winter solstice isn’t the sudden return of light — it’s simply the end of the descent into darkness.The turnaround is real, but it’s subtle. At first, the change is measured in seconds, not minutes.Sunrise still comes painfully late. The days don’t suddenly feel brighter. You have to trust the math, not your mood.And yet… something important has shifted.By the end of January, here in Ohio, we’ll gain roughly 40 minutes of daylight. Not all at once. Not evenly. Day by day. Small, almost imperceptible changes that quietly add up.Grief works the same way.When someone we love dies, we often wait for the day the light comes back — the morning we wake up and feel like ourselves again. But healing doesn’t arrive like flipping a switch. It arrives like January sunlight: slowly, inconsistently, sometimes so subtly you doubt it’s happening at all.First, it’s a second of peace.Then a moment where you breathe without effort.Then a short walk that doesn’t feel as heavy.Then one evening where the darkness doesn’t last quite as long.You’re not failing because the light hasn’t flooded back yet.You’re adjusting — one day, one second, one small shift at a time.The light is returning.It just doesn’t announce itself.And maybe that’s the most honest kind of hope there is. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

Some conversations don’t end when the recording stops.They linger.They echo.They rearrange something inside you.This conversation with Angela Jean did that for me.I’ve spent years exploring grief—my own, and the grief of others. I’ve talked with countless people about loss, trauma, and what it means to keep living when life no longer makes sense. And yet, this episode slowed me down in a different way. It didn’t just speak to the mind. It spoke to the body.Angela didn’t offer a neat framework or a motivational soundbite. She offered something deeper, more honest, and frankly more challenging:Healing doesn’t start with your thoughts.It starts with your nervous system.And once you see that, it’s hard to unsee.When Healing Doesn’t Work the Way We’re Told It ShouldMany of us come to healing the same way.We read the books.We repeat the affirmations.We try to “think differently.”And when that doesn’t work, we assume we’re the problem.But trauma doesn’t live in the rational part of the brain. Grief doesn’t ask for permission before it floods the body. Loss doesn’t wait until the mind is ready to process it.That’s why so many people feel stuck.They’re doing everything “right,” but their body is still bracing. Still guarding. Still rehearsing danger.This is where nervous system healing after trauma becomes essential. Not as a buzzword. Not as another thing to fix. But as a compassionate explanation for why willpower alone doesn’t work.Angela articulated something I’ve seen again and again in grief work:The body often remembers long after the mind understands.Angela Jean’s Story: Survival Before LanguageAngela’s life story is not easy to hear.She experienced severe physical and sexual abuse as a child. She left home at thirteen because it was safer to sleep in bushes than to stay. Survival, not metaphorically but physically, became a daily reality.Later, she lost her father and her sister to suicide.That kind of trauma doesn’t just leave emotional scars. It shapes the nervous system. It teaches the body to stay alert, guarded, prepared for impact.Listening to Angela, I was struck by how clearly she could name this—not from theory, but from lived experience.Her healing didn’t begin when she finally “thought positive enough.”It began when she realized her body had been doing exactly what it was trained to do:keep her alive.That reframe matters.Once we stop seeing our responses as failures, we can start working with them rather than against them.“The Body Remembers Before the Mind”This may be the most important takeaway from the entire conversation.Trauma happens fast.Grief happens fast.The nervous system reacts before language can catch up.That’s why you can feel tightness in your chest with no clear thought attached.That’s why anxiety shows up “out of nowhere.”That’s why you can logically know you’re safe—and still feel like you’re not.For those of us who’ve experienced sudden loss, this makes perfect sense.Grief arrives like a shockwave. The body absorbs it before the mind can make meaning of it. And long after the funeral is over, the body may still be bracing for another blow.Understanding this changed the way I think about healing—not just personally, but professionally.It shifts the question from “What’s wrong with me?”to “What did my body learn, and how can I help it feel safe again?”Rhythm, Safety, and Why the Body Needs ProofOne of the most fascinating parts of Angela’s work is her emphasis on rhythm.Rhythm signals safety.We see this everywhere in nature. In breathing. In heartbeats. In music. In walking. In rocking a baby to sleep.Angela discovered that rhythmic thought patterns—combined with gentle movement—can interrupt the nervous system’s survival loops. Not by force. But by reassurance.Safety isn’t an idea.It’s a sensation.And for many trauma survivors, the body doesn’t believe words alone. It needs proof.This reframed something important for me. I’ve often encouraged mindfulness, meditation, and reflection. Those tools matter. But they don’t always meet people where they are.Sometimes the body needs to feel soothed before the mind can settle.Trauma Imprints: When Love and Pain Get EntangledOne of the most heartbreaking moments in the conversation was when Angela described realizing that love had been imprinted as pain.Not metaphorically. Literally.As a child, she learned—at a cellular level—that closeness came with danger. That love hurt. That safety was conditional.This isn’t uncommon. I’ve seen it repeatedly in grief and trauma work.People don’t consciously choose harmful relationships.They follow familiar patterns that feel normal to their nervous system.Angela’s insight was simple and profound:If you don’t interrupt the imprint, you’ll keep rehearsing it.That applies not only to relationships, but to how we treat ourselves. How we overextend. How we self-abandon. How we tolerate what hurts because it feels known.Healing begins when we catch the pattern in the body, not just in hindsight.Anger, Depression, and Listening Instead of SuppressingI appreciated Angela’s clarity around anger and depression—two emotions that often show up in grief.Anger is expansive.Depression is collapsing.They are different energies. And they need different responses.We’re often told to calm anger and push through sadness. But Angela suggests something more nuanced: meet the energy where it is.Sometimes anger needs movement.Sometimes depression needs expansion.Sometimes the body needs permission to release instead of being managed.This aligns deeply with what I’ve seen in grief. Suppressed emotions don’t disappear. They wait.Listening doesn’t mean indulging every impulse. It means respecting the intelligence of the body.“You Are Who You Train to Be”This line landed hard for me.Because it’s honest.We are always training something—whether we mean to or not. Our nervous system rehearses what it knows. Our thoughts follow familiar grooves. Our reactions become habits.Healing, then, isn’t a single breakthrough.It’s a practice.Angela talks about micro-resets. Small, consistent interruptions. Catching the moment of tightening. Pausing before collapse. Choosing safety again and again.This resonates deeply with my own journey.Grief doesn’t end.But our relationship with it can change.And that change happens through repetition, not revelation.From Personal Healing to Collective HealingOne of the things I admire most about Angela is her sense of responsibility.Not obligation—but stewardship.She believes that those who heal carry something forward for others. That healing isn’t just personal—it’s relational.I believe this too.Grief 2 Growth exists because I know pain doesn’t have to be wasted. When we tend to our own nervous systems, we show up differently. We listen better. We react less. We offer steadier presence.And in a world that feels increasingly dysregulated, that matters.An Invitation, Not a ConclusionIf you’re reading this and recognizing yourself—your body, your patterns, your exhaustion—I want you to hear this clearly:You’re not broken.You’re not failing at healing.Your nervous system may simply be doing what it learned to do.And that can change.Not overnight.Not perfectly.But gently. Repeatedly. Compassionately.A reflection for you:Where might your body still be rehearsing survival—and what would safety feel like instead?Continue the ConversationIf this resonated with you, I invite you to listen to the full episode with Angela Jean. Her voice, her presence, and her clarity offer something that words alone can’t capture.And if you want to go deeper, subscribe.I’d love to hear:* What stood out to you* Where you feel this in your body* What questions this stirred upComment. Share. Join the chat. Subscribe.Healing doesn’t happen alone—and none of us were meant to carry this by ourselves. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

Grief can break us open in deep ways. Sometimes it reveals truths we never expected. Other times it shows us parts of ourselves we never knew were missing. When Rich Boerner lost his mother, he expected sadness. He expected longing. He expected the familiar ache that comes when a loved one dies.But he did not expect a discovery that would completely rewrite his identity.In this article, we explore how family secrets and identity shaped Rich’s journey. His story invites us to examine our own stories, especially the parts shaped by silence or confusion. You will also see how healing can arrive through connection, curiosity, and compassion.This article is based on my conversation with Rich on the Grief 2 Growth podcast. His insights remind us that even painful truths can become doorways to understanding.Growing Up “Different” — The Unspoken Stories We CarryRich grew up in New York during the 1970s. His mother was a single parent, and his father was never part of his life. He learned early that some families operated with quiet gaps. Those gaps shaped beliefs. They shaped identity. They shaped how he saw himself in relation to others.Children often fill in missing pieces with imagination. Sometimes they assume blame. Sometimes they assume they are not worthy of answers. Rich carried those questions for years. Yet he also carried deep love and admiration for his mother. She worked hard. She protected him. She built a world where he felt safe.But silence can create its own gravity. It can pull us toward stories that may not be true. Those unspoken stories begin shaping our adult lives long before we notice.This tension between love and silence lives at the center of many conversations about family secrets and identity. Rich’s experience shows how these forces can guide us without our awareness.The Day Everything Changed — Losing His MotherRich’s mother survived ovarian cancer. Her strength inspired him. Her resilience became a defining part of his life. When someone fights that hard, you begin to see them as unbreakable.But life can shift in a single moment.His mother fell. She suffered a head injury. Her death came quickly. Rich had no time to prepare. He moved from relief to shock in an instant.Losing a parent often feels like losing the anchor that holds your story in place. For Rich, her death created an emotional void. But it also cleared space for truths that could no longer stay hidden.Grief sometimes removes the barriers that protect secrets. When life changes that fast, we search for something steady. Rich searched for that steadiness as he cleaned out her small apartment. Instead, he found something else.He found clues.Discovering the Secret — Letters, Clues, and a New IdentityWhile sorting through drawers, boxes, and old papers, Rich discovered letters that did not make sense. He found documents that hinted at something hidden. The man he believed was his father had not been his father at all.This realization shook him. It twisted grief into confusion. It changed sadness into betrayal. Identity sits on quiet foundations. We build our lives on the stories we believe. When those stories collapse, we feel unsteady.Rich learned that his mother had loved him fiercely. But she had also held back a truth. She may have done this to protect him. She may have done it to protect herself. Secrets often arise from pain, not malice.Still, he now had to face the intersection of family secrets and identity. Who was he? Why had the truth been hidden? Was he allowed to feel angry at someone he loved so deeply?These questions marked the start of his next chapter.Anger, Betrayal, and the First Steps Toward ForgivenessAnger can feel like a shield. It can protect us when we feel hurt. Rich felt anger. He felt betrayal. He wondered what life might have looked like if he had known the truth sooner.But grief has layers. When the anger softened, he began asking new questions. What pain had his mother carried? What fear had shaped her silence? How many choices do parents make because they believe they are protecting their children?Forgiveness rarely arrives quickly. It arrives slowly, like soft rain. It changes us one drop at a time.Rich began to understand that secrets often come from fear, not deceit. They come from wounds. They come from the need to survive. This awareness opened the door to compassion. Compassion opened the door to healing.As he walked this path, something unexpected happened.He found family he never knew existed.Meeting His Half-Sister — Connection That HealsThrough research and DNA tests, Rich discovered he had a half-sister. Their first connection felt surreal. She was a stranger who shared his history. She carried stories he never knew. She carried pieces of his identity he had missed.Their meeting changed everything. Her presence softened the pain. Her life offered context. She helped him see his parents as complex people, not puzzles.Their relationship became proof that healing often happens through connection. When we feel seen, we feel grounded. When someone understands us, identity feels less fragile.This part of Rich’s story offers a powerful lesson. New relationships can heal old wounds. When we open the door to truth, we often find love waiting behind it.Redefining Identity as an AdultRebuilding identity as an adult is hard. It requires patience and honesty. It requires sitting with questions that feel uncomfortable.Rich leaned on humor. He leaned on curiosity. He leaned on the desire to grow, not collapse. He described this journey with honesty and lightness. He said one line that stayed with me:“Identity is not a fixed thing. It grows with us, just like grief grows with us.”He is right. Identity expands. It shifts with experience. It moves when truth arrives. Many listeners reached out after the episode to say they had lived similar journeys. Many had discovered their own family secrets later in life.Secrets shape identity, but they do not define it. What defines us is how we respond.Rich responded with grace.Why He Wrote The Not So Only ChildWriting the book was not an act of revenge. It was an act of love. It was a tribute to his mother. It was a way to understand her choices. It was a way to help his children understand their own story.Rich wanted to help people feel less alone. Family secrets can isolate us. They can make us wonder if anyone else has lived this confusion. His book reminds us that we are not alone. Many families carry hidden truths. Many children grow up with unanswered questions.Writing helped him heal. Sharing helped others heal. Storytelling becomes a bridge when secrets have built walls.What Rich’s Story Teaches Us About HealingRich’s journey reflects many truths about grief. It shows how love and anger can live in the same heart. It shows how silence can damage identity, even when silence feels safe. It shows how connection can repair what was broken.Here are key lessons for anyone dealing with family secrets and identity:* Secrets often hide pain, not malice.* Clarity can feel painful, but confusion lasts longer.* Forgiveness does not erase the past. It softens it.* New relationships can bring healing.* Identity is never final. It grows with us.* Grief invites transformation if we stay open.These lessons can guide anyone navigating complex family histories.Turning Grief Into GrowthRich’s story highlights a core truth. Grief is not the end of the story. It is the opening chapter of transformation. Grief pushes us inward. It forces us to examine beliefs and identity. It invites us to ask deep questions.His journey reminds us that the truth, even when painful, brings freedom. It brings clarity. It opens new paths. It reveals new family. It deepens understanding.When we face truth with courage, growth becomes possible. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

Introduction: When Grief Takes EverythingThere is a kind of loss that breaks the world in half.If you are reading this, you may know that kind of loss—where life divides into a before and an after, and nothing in the “after” looks familiar.I know this kind of loss because I lost my daughter, Shayna. Her death shattered me, and it reshaped every belief I once held about myself, life, and God.But when I met Michael Reed, I encountered someone who had lived through a storm even larger than the one I thought would drown me.Michael lost his wife, Constance, and their daughters, Chloe and Lily, in the 2016 Gatlinburg fires. His story is one of those that makes people whisper, “I don’t know how he survived.” Yet here he is—living, speaking, writing, loving, and continuing on a path that nobody should ever have to walk.As we talked, I realized something important:Michael is a living example of what healing after unimaginable loss can look like—not perfect, not complete, but possible.And that possibility matters. It matters to me. It matters to anyone living in the after.Michael Reed’s Story: A Life Split in TwoEvery grieving parent knows the moment their world split. Michael’s moment was the night the fires swept through Gatlinburg. One instant, life was whole. The next, everything he loved most had been taken.Michael speaks of his wife and daughters with a warmth that fills the room. You can feel them when he talks—Constance’s strength, Chloe’s spark, Lily’s light. They are still present in him, woven into every sentence and every silence.He told me, “My life didn’t end that night, but the life I knew did.”I felt those words deep in my body.Loss like this doesn’t just break you. It empties you. It leaves you standing in a place you never imagined, looking at a future you never asked to face.And yet, somehow, Michael continues to walk forward.When His Loss Reflected My OwnWhen two grieving parents talk, there is no need to explain the invisible things. You don’t have to justify why a certain song ruins your day. You don’t have to explain why holidays feel like emotional landmines. You don’t have to defend why you still talk about your child.Michael and I understood each other immediately.He experienced multiple losses at once, while I lost one beloved daughter. And yet the grief connected us without comparison or hierarchy.Grief doesn’t measure itself.Pain doesn’t need a scale.What struck me most was not how much he had endured, but how much of him remains. How he still carries love. How he still held hope. How he still speaks with tenderness about what matters most.His story doesn’t make our grief smallerIt makes our possibilities larger. We can endure much more than we think we can.He showed me that even when grief swallows everything, something in us still looks for the light.Why “The Five Stages of Grief” Don’t Describe Real LifeBoth Michael and I have been told we’re grieving “wrong.”People want grief to be tidy. They want steps. They want an ending. They want a checklist that reassures them that pain can be organized and completed like a home project.But Michael said something I’ve felt for years.“There aren’t five stages. There are a million.”His book title reflects this truth.Grief doesn’t march forward in predictable lines.It spirals, pauses, surges, quiets, and blindsides.It’s messy. It’s human. It’s alive.When you’ve suffered a loss like ours—when healing after unimaginable loss becomes your daily work—you stop looking for stages. You start learning to breathe again. You start learning to feel again. You start rebuilding your relationship with yourself, one fragile moment at a time.The Moment Michael Chose LifeMichael shared the moment he almost didn’t continue. The weight became too heavy. The silence too loud. The memories too sharp. Many parents who have lost children reach a point where life itself feels impossible.I’ve stood near that same place.But something in him refused to let go.A quiet voice.A thread of connection.A sense that his story wasn’t finished.Healing after unimaginable loss doesn’t come from a single choice. It comes from choosing again and again—not to give up, not to fade away, not to surrender the parts of yourself that grief didn’t take.Michael chose life in the smallest of ways before it became noticeable in bigger ways. And that’s how healing always begins—tiny decisions that feel insignificant until, one day, you look back and realize they saved you.Men and the Silence of GriefThis is a subject that hits home for both of us.Men are taught to be strong, stoic, steady. We’re taught that tears are weakness. We’re taught that vulnerability is a burden. And when our children die, those messages become suffocating.Michael breaks that pattern.I try to break it too.He cried. He talked. He wrote. He let himself be broken.And in doing so, he created space for other men to breathe.Healing after unimaginable loss requires honesty.It requires softness.It requires courage far greater than silence.The strongest thing a grieving man can do is tell the truth about his pain.Wrestling With God After TragedyThis is where Michael’s story and mine intertwine again.Both of us still have a relationship with God.But neither of us attends church anymore.And that may confuse people who assume those two things must go together. But grief changes how you connect with the divine. After loss, some words ring hollow. Some rituals feel distant. Some communities feel too cheerful, too shallow, too eager to fix something that cannot be fixed.For many grieving parents, church becomes a place where they feel misunderstood.Michael didn’t lose his faith.He lost his place in the institution.I relate.My conversations with God got more honest.My questions got sharper.My understanding got wider.But my ability to sit in a pew and pretend everything was fine disappeared.What remains for both of us is a relationship with God that is personal, raw, and real.Not organized.Not polished.Not structured.Just true.Faith Outside of Church: The Quiet Way Back to GodSome people think that stepping away from church means stepping away from God. But what I’ve learned—and what Michael lives every day—is that faith can survive even the worst fire.It doesn’t need stained glass or sermons.It doesn’t need a building.It doesn’t need approval.It needs honesty.It needs room.It needs the freedom to question.Healing after unimaginable loss often means rebuilding your spiritual life from the ground up. Many grieving parents discover a God who walks with them through the ruins, not a God who lives at the front of a sanctuary.God became quieter for both of us—but also closer.Using Pain to Change the World One Person at a TimeMichael writes so others won’t feel alone.I podcast so others won’t feel alone.Our work is different, but our purpose is shared.Grief took what seemed like everything from us, and yet somehow it gave us something too—a mission to make sure no grieving parent walks in darkness without at least one hand reaching out to them.Michael told me that if he can help one person, it’s worth the pain of telling his story. I feel the same way every time I publish an episode or write a reflection.Pain transformed into service becomes something sacred.It becomes the quiet heartbeat of hope.What Michael Taught Me About the Human SpiritThere are conversations that stay with you long after the cameras turn off.My conversation with Michael was one of them.He taught me that the human spirit can survive even the most catastrophic loss—not by forgetting, not by moving on, but by loving so fiercely that even death can’t extinguish it.He taught me that grief can take everyone you love and still not take everything you are.Most of all, he reminded me that healing after unimaginable loss is not only possible—it is happening, right now, in ways we often don’t recognize.In every tear.In every honest conversation.In every moment we choose to keep going.In every breath we take for a child who no longer breathes.Healing doesn’t mean the end of pain.It means the continuation of love.Key Takeaways* Healing after unimaginable loss is not linear.* We don’t move on—but we can move forward.* Men grieve deeply but often silently. Speaking helps.* Faith can survive outside traditional structures.* God walks with us even when church no longer fits.* Purpose often grows from pain.* Connection with others who “get it” is essential for survival.* Grief doesn’t shrink with time. We grow around it.A Closing InvitationIf Michael’s story touched you, I invite you to share your heart in the comments.Tell us about your loved one.Tell us what helps you keep going.Tell us what you wrestle with.Your story matters here.If this resonated with you, please share it with someone who feels alone in their grief.You never know whose life you might steady with a single gesture.And if you want more reflections like this—gentle honesty, spiritual exploration, real conversations about grief—join me on Substack:👉 We heal together.We carry each other.And we survive the unimaginable by refusing to walk alone. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

When I sat down with Samina Bari, I expected a meaningful conversation. We scheduled this interview months ago. I did not expect her story to echo my present life so closely. Many of you know my friend Mike passed earlier this year. He and his wife, Lisa, are two of my closest friends. We live just a few yards apart and spent nearly one evening every weekend together.My wife and I have been walking beside her through the fog, shock, and numbness. I have tried to show up with care, even when I do not know the right words.So when Samina told me her husband Doug died suddenly in 2023, something inside me froze. This interview was not only professional. It was personal. It was timely. It was needed. And, strangely, Mike and Doug passed on the same day— April 7, one year apart.This article is about supporting a grieving spouse. It is about what helps, what hurts, and how we can love better. It is also about what Samina taught me through her courage, her honesty, and her willingness to share her heart.If you love someone who is grieving, I hope this reaches you today.If you are grieving, I hope you feel seen.The Day Everything ChangedSamina and Doug had been together for twenty-one years. They shared dreams, meals, inside jokes, twin daughters, and a life built from deep love.Then, one ordinary evening, Doug went out to see friends. He never made it home.Samina told me:“It felt like I left my body. My mind could not process what happened.”She described shaking uncontrollably. She described shock so sharp it robbed her of the ability to think. She described a silence so big it filled the room.She told me she could not recall conversations. Friends later told her she had spoken. But she has no memory of those moments. Her brain protected her by shutting down the parts that hurt the most.When someone loses a spouse suddenly, they lose more than a person. They lose the anchor. They lose safety. They lose the story they believed they were living.Supporting a grieving spouse during this time requires patience. It requires presence. It requires humility. There is no fixing. There is only sitting with the unbearable.Grief Brain Is RealOne of the most important ideas Samina explained was grief brain. She described it as:* memory loss* confusion* impaired decision-making* emotional numbness* difficulty concentrating* constant overwhelmShe said she could not drive. She could not eat. She could not track time. She could not organize her thoughts. Her brain simply stopped functioning in familiar ways.She told me:“I couldn’t remember if I had showered or eaten. Everything disappeared.”This is biology. The brain shuts down non-essential functions under trauma. And sudden spousal loss is trauma in its purest form.If you are supporting a grieving spouse, know this:* They are not lazy.* They are not distracted.* They are not “not trying.”They are wounded in a way you cannot fathom.I saw grief brain in myself after my daughter passed. I have watched it in parents I supported. It is real. It is heavy. It takes time.Solo Parenting Is Not Single ParentingSamina talked about raising twin daughters after Doug’s death. She spoke with love. She spoke with exhaustion. She spoke with a truth rarely acknowledged.She told me:“Single parenting is a choice or a circumstance. Solo parenting is being completely alone.”When a spouse dies, every decision falls to the surviving partner:* school choices* financial planning* emotional support* bedtime routines* medical decisions* grief management* safety* discipline* comfort* daily logisticsThere is no backup parent.There is no one to debate choices with.There is no one who loves the children like the one who is gone.Supporting a grieving spouse with children means offering very practical help:* drive the kids* take them to the park* give the parent space to cry* help with meals* help with paperwork* help with appointments* help with homework* help with rest* help with realityThis is not optional help. It is life support.The Word “Widow” and Its WeightI will not reveal the full reason Samina finds the word “widow” so ugly. It’s in the interview. You should watch or listen. She shares the deeper story in the episode. But I will tell you this much.When she said the word, I felt it hit my chest.It felt heavy.It felt cold.It felt wrong.A few days after Mike passed, the word widow came into my mind. It just didn’t seem right for Lisa. I instantly hated the word. It felt like a word that pushed her into another category. A lonely one. A sad one. A category with a door that locks behind you.Samina said:“It does not define me.”And I understood exactly why.Supporting a grieving spouse means honoring their identity.Not defining them by loss.Not assigning them a label they did not choose.The Loss of Past, Present, and FutureOne of the deepest moments in our conversation came when Samina explained the three layers of loss.Loss of the past:No one remains who shares those memories.No one is there to validate the moments.No one remembers the details the way Doug did.Loss of the present:Every habit changes.Every routine collapses.Every room feels different.Loss of the future:This was the hardest part for Samina.She told me she cannot picture herself older.She cannot imagine retirement.She cannot see decades ahead.Her mind stops before it reaches those images.She said:“My dreams died with him.”Supporting a grieving spouse means understanding this:They are not only mourning a person.They are mourning the past they lived.They are mourning the present they hold.They are mourning the future they expected.It is grief in three directions.What Actually Helps (and What Hurts)Every grieving spouse hears two phrases:* Call me if you need anything.* Let me know what I can do.These words feel supportive on the surface.But they create pressure.They place the burden of planning on the person who can barely think.Many grievers hate them.Samina said:“Just do something. Anything. Do not wait to be asked.”Here is what actually helps:* bring meals* portion them* label them* clean the dishes* take kids out* send a short text* sit quietly* listen* say the spouse’s name* run errands* offer rides* handle forms* schedule appointments* shovel the driveway* fold laundry* go with them to purchase a car* show up again* show up again* show up againDon’t Stop Including PeopleSamina’s friends kept including her and still do, two and a half years later. When Mike passed, we kept inviting Lisa to everything.We invited her to our Derby party only weeks after his passing.She was unsure at first.We said:“You can be sad with us. Or sad alone. But you will not be alone.”She came.She cried.We cried with her.It was one of the most healing moments for all of us.Presence matters more than perfection.Children Are Not Naturally ResilientSamina emphasized something society refuses to understand.“Children are not resilient. They are vulnerable, especially after trauma.”Children who lose a parent face increased:* anxiety* depression* fear* emotional shutdown* suicidal thoughts* sleep issues* behavioral changesThey need tenderness.They need truth.They need affection.They need professional support.They need consistency.They need reminders that life can still be safe.Supporting a grieving spouse means supporting grieving children too.Year Two: The Harder YearMany people assume the first year is the hardest.The first holidays.The first birthday.The first anniversary.The first everything.But Samina said year two was worse.The shock faded.The paperwork ended.The casseroles stopped.People returned to their routines.She was still grieving.But the world had moved on.She said:“I survived year one. Then I realized this is forever.”Supporting a grieving spouse means remembering them after the first year.Send a text.Make a call.Bring a meal.Invite them out.Name the spouse.Show you remember.Long grief needs long compassion.How We Can All Be Better at Supporting a Grieving SpouseSamina said:“Our grief is not about your discomfort.”We often stay silent because we fear saying the wrong thing.We avoid people because we fear our presence may hurt.We rush to platitudes because silence makes us uneasy.But grief asks something different.It asks us to grow.It asks us to sit with pain.It asks us to expand our ability to feel.Supporting a grieving spouse means:* choosing discomfort* offering presence* staying patient* refusing to disappear* remembering anniversaries* honoring the spouse* acknowledging the pain* avoiding comparisons* avoiding clichés* allowing tears* allowing silenceAnd most of all, it means remembering this truth:Grief is love in a new form.It deserves reverence, not avoidance.Key Takeaways* Grief brain is real and requires patience.* “Call me if you need anything” is rarely helpful.* Solo parenting is a heavy emotional and logistical load.* Children need active support through grief.* The word “widow” carries complicated weight.* Year two can feel even more painful than year one.* The future becomes hard to imagine after sudden loss.* Community support can save a grieving spouse.* Presence matters more than perfect words.* Long grief requires long-term care.Final Thoughts — An Invitation to Show UpSupporting a grieving spouse is not about fixing their pain.It is about walking beside them through it.So today, I invite you to take one simple step.Reach out to someone who is grieving.Say, “I’m thinking of you.”Say their spouse’s name.Offer presence.Offer tenderness.Offer love.We heal better when we heal together.💬 Join the Conversation* What resonated with you most?* Have you supported a grieving spouse before?* What helped?* What hurt?💬 Join the ChatLet’s continue this discussion in the Substack chat.Your story may help someone else heal.📤 Share This ArticleIf you know someone supporting a grieving spouse, please share this piece.💛 Subscribe to Grief 2 GrowthFor more conversations, reflections, and guidance on grief, love, and healing, subscribe below.Grief 2 Growth is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

I’ve had many powerful conversations on the Grief 2 Growth podcast, but every now and then, I sit down with someone who shifts my inner landscape. My recent interview with internationally bestselling author and dream expert Theresa Cheung did exactly that.Going into this conversation, I expected to learn a few new things about dream symbolism or the psychology of sleep. What I didn’t expect was to walk away with a deeper understanding of the spiritual meaning of dreams—and a deeper understanding of myself.As many of you know, loss changed the entire trajectory of my life. When you lose a child, you begin to search for meaning in every corner of experience. Dreams often become one of those corners—sometimes a refuge, sometimes a mystery, sometimes a source of painful longing. I’ve heard from countless listeners who’ve had vivid dream visits from their loved ones, including some that brought more comfort than any waking experience could.Talking with Theresa helped me see dreams not only as messages or symbols, but as living dialogues between our subconscious, our soul, and sometimes those in spirit. I want to share with you what stood out to me most—because I believe this conversation can help you understand your own dreams with more clarity, peace, and hope.🌟 We Sleep to Dream — and Why That Idea Mattered to MeTheresa opened our conversation with a statement that stopped me in my tracks:“We sleep in order to dream.”Not “dreams are part of sleep.”Not “dreams support sleep.”But we sleep so we can dream.Hearing it phrased that way reframed everything.Most of us think dreams are random disturbances in the night. Some think they’re psychological noise, or the brain sorting out daily experiences. I left that mindset long ago.Theresa doesn’t dismiss the science—but she believes dreams have a clear spiritual purpose. They show us what we’re ready to face, what we need to heal, and who we are becoming.From a grief perspective, this is profound. If dreams are intentional, then the ones that feel like guidance might actually be guidance. The ones that feel like connection might truly be connection.And the ones that hurt… might be invitations to grow.🪞 Dreams as Mirrors of the SoulOne of Theresa’s ideas that stayed with me is that dreams reflect our current state—not who we want to be, but who we are right now.When I look back at some of my more intense dreams since losing Shayna, I see this truth. Those dreams weren’t random. They were mirrors, revealing my fears, my hopes, and my transformation in ways I couldn’t yet name during the day.Theresa says our dreams hold up a snapshot of our inner world. They don’t flatter. They don’t sugarcoat. But they also don’t shame. They meet us exactly where we are.When I think of how many grievers have told me, “My dreams are so confusing,” or “I don’t like what I see in them,” I realize Theresa’s insight is something we all need:“Your dreams aren’t showing you what’s wrong with you. They’re showing you what’s asking to be healed.”That shift alone can make someone feel less afraid of their own mind.💛 When Dreams Become VisitsWe talked about something close to my heart: afterlife dream visits.So many listeners have asked, “Was that a real visit? Or was it just wishful thinking?”Theresa explained the difference with a level of clarity that I wish everyone could hear:* Dream visits feel peaceful, calm, and real.* The loved one appears healthy or glowing.* The message is simple, often a look, hug, or phrase.* You remember it vividly, sometimes for years.* There’s no fear. No chaos. No distortion.In contrast, symbolic or psychological dreams tend to be chaotic, confusing, or emotionally charged.I’ve long believed dream visits are legitimate forms of connection. Hearing Theresa describe the consistent patterns she’s seen over decades of research only strengthened that belief.If you’ve had a dream like this, you’re not imagining things. You’re not “just grieving.”You may have experienced a true moment of connection.🌑 Nightmares: The Tough-Love TeachersI’ll be honest: this part surprised me.Theresa believes nightmares are not punishments or signs that we’re failing spiritually. Instead, they’re urgent messages—a form of tough love.She compared them to a smoke alarm: loud, jarring, impossible to ignore. Not because something is trying to hurt us, but because something inside us is calling for attention.I thought about the dreams people describe in early grief. The recurring stress dreams. The overwhelming scenarios. The feelings of running, searching, or being trapped.Theresa says these nightmares are the psyche’s way of saying:“You’re overwhelmed. You’re hurting. Something needs your care.”This view removes the shame.It removes the fear.And it invites compassion for ourselves.🌀 Feeling Lost in Dreams—Why That Might Be a Good SignSomething else Theresa said struck me deeply:When you’re lost in a dream, it’s often because you’re in transition, not because something is wrong.Being lost doesn’t mean you’re failing.It means you’re searching.In grief, being lost becomes a familiar feeling. When dreams repeat that theme, they’re not mocking our confusion—they’re mirroring a spiritual journey in progress.Imagine what it would mean to see confusion not as chaos, but as transformation.If being lost in a dream is a sign that I’m transforming, that shifts everything. Being lost is my most common dream. I’m in an unfamiliar place, trying to get somewhere. But I don’t know where I’m going or when I’m supposed to be there.🌟 Lucid Dreaming and Rehearsing Our Future SelvesTheresa spoke beautifully about lucid dreams as rehearsals for our highest potential.In a lucid dream, we can:* practice courage* feel whole* experience reunion* step into the person we’re becomingI found this empowering. Many people in grief feel stuck between who they were and who they are now. Lucid dreams offer a space where the soul can try on the future before the mind is ready.This perspective transforms lucid dreaming from a novelty into a spiritual tool.You can improve your ability to lucid dream. I have. It’s a powerful feeling when you become lucid in your dream.📚 Nightborn — When Fiction Becomes a Spiritual ClassroomTheresa’s new novel Nightborn is more than entertainment. She designed it as a hidden guide to dream meaning disguised as a thriller.Fiction bypasses the analytical mind and communicates in symbols, just like dreams. It reaches us emotionally, intuitively, and personally. I’ve learned so much from movies. I don’t read fiction though. Maybe it’s time to change that.Theresa told me she wrote the book so readers would “learn dream wisdom without realizing they’re learning.”I admire that kind of creativity and intentionality.✨ How This Conversation Changed the Way I See DreamsBy the time we wrapped up, I realized Theresa had done more than teach me about dreams. She had reminded me of something I often tell others:Our inner world is alive.It is speaking to us.And we are never as disconnected as we think.This conversation made me more attentive to my own dreams. It made me more willing to listen. And it made me want to encourage you—yes, you reading this—to pay attention to your dreams tonight.You might discover:* a message from your subconscious* a nudge toward healing* a moment of guidance* or even a visit from someone you loveDreams don’t just entertain us.They accompany us.They teach us.They connect us to what we’ve lost—and what we’re becoming.🌙 Key Takeaways* Dreams have profound spiritual meaning and reflect your internal state.* Afterlife dream visits are peaceful, vivid, and deeply healing.* Nightmares are messages, not punishments.* Feeling lost in dreams often means you’re transitioning.* Lucid dreams can help you rehearse your future self.* Your dreams may be your most honest—and most loving—inner guide.💬 Join Me in the CommentsI want to hear from you:* Have you had a dream that felt like a visit?* What dream has stayed with you over the years?* Are there symbols you see again and again?* Did Theresa’s perspective make you rethink an old dream?Share your story with me. I read every comment. I reply to most.📨 Let’s Continue This Journey TogetherIf you haven’t joined the Substack chat yet, come be part of the Grief 2 Growth community.We reflect, support each other, and talk openly about the experiences many people keep private.👉 Join us at: If this article resonated with you, please:* ❤️ Comment* 💬 Join the chat* 🔁 Share this article* 🧡 Subscribe to support the work and stay connectedYour presence here matters.Your dreams matter.And you are never alone on this path. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

When I sit down with a guest for Grief 2 Growth, I never know exactly where the conversation will go. I prepare, of course. I read, I research, I feel into the person’s story. But now and then, someone arrives with a presence that shifts the room the moment they appear on screen.That was my experience with Andy Chaleff.From the first minutes of our conversation, I sensed that this wasn’t just an interview. It felt like stepping into a shared space of truth-telling, where both of us were invited to be a little braver, a little more honest, and a little more open than we expected to be. Talking with Andy was like sitting across from a mirror—one that reflected both the parts of myself I’ve made peace with, and the parts I’m still learning to hold.This is the story of what that hour taught me.It’s personal.It’s vulnerable.And it’s a reminder that grief, when met with courage, can become a source of deep awakening.The Story That Stopped Me: A Letter, a Mother, and a Moment That Changed EverythingThere’s a moment early in our conversation when Andy recounts the pivotal experience that shaped his entire life: the night he wrote a deeply honest letter to his mother — and the shock of learning she was killed by a drunk driver only hours after receiving it.As he spoke, I felt the air shift.He wasn’t telling a story for effect. He wasn’t dramatizing it. He was simply remembering — and feeling — the weight of a moment that split his world into Before and After.When he said, “She was everything to me… and when she died, my life felt like it was over,” I felt the echo of that truth inside my own body. Shayna was my everything.Grief has a way of speaking the same language, even when the circumstances differ. His words brought me back to a moment in my own life when the world changed so suddenly I wondered how I’d ever stand again.These are not just stories.They are soul-markings.And as Andy continued, I felt myself pulled deeper into his journey — not as a host, but as a fellow traveler.Running From Pain and the Places We HideAndy told me he left the United States two years after his mother died and didn’t return for three decades.Thirty years.That number sat heavy with me.He described traveling through Australia, Japan, and Europe, building a life rich with experience — but also carefully constructed to stay one step ahead of the grief that haunted him.I’ve spoken to hundreds of people about grief. I’ve lived through unimaginable loss myself. And one of the most universal truths I’ve learned is this:We all run from pain in our own ways.Sometimes the running is literal.Sometimes it’s emotional.Sometimes it’s spiritual — hiding inside beliefs, identities, or roles that keep us from looking inward.As Andy told me about how holidays triggered him, how he avoided anything that reminded him of his mother, I felt a quiet recognition.I’ve known that urge.That instinct to build a life far enough from the wound that maybe, just maybe, it won’t hurt as much.But time doesn’t erase grief.It waits.And eventually, it calls us back.The Moment He Turned Toward the PainFor Andy, that turning point came at age 35, when a brutally honest mentor confronted him with words that pierced his identity:“You’re an imposter. You aren’t honest with yourself.”Most people would have argued.Andy listened.He sold everything he owned, moved into an unheated attic in Amsterdam, and began the slow, uncertain, courageous process of facing the pain he had avoided for years.As he spoke, I felt tears rising.Because I know what it is to rebuild a life from the ground up.I know what it is to strip away every identity that once told you who you were.I know the fear of not knowing who you will become next.This is why I created Grief 2 Growth in the first place — to give voice to these moments, the ones that shape us not despite grief, but because of it.Ego Death and the Art of Becoming Someone NewWhen Andy talked about “dying to live,” I understood exactly what he meant.He described ego death not as a dramatic mystical experience, but as the quiet, painful surrender of every identity we cling to:Who we think we are.Who we want to be seen as.Who we’re terrified we might be.Grief strips us.It pulls away the costumes we’ve worn for years — the competent one, the strong one, the successful one, the one who has it all together. It exposes us to ourselves.And in that exposure, something new becomes possible.Andy said something that has stayed with me ever since:“If I can’t allow myself to cry in front of people who might judge me, then I’m not free.”Those words hit me hard.Because grief — real grief — demands that kind of freedom. It demands an honesty that is both terrifying and liberating.And when we finally let go, what remains is not weakness.It’s truth.It’s presence.It’s aliveness.Humor, Absurdity, and the Strange Beauty of Being HumanOne of the things I appreciate most about Andy is how he blends humor with depth.He talked about seeing life as a constructed reality — almost like living in the Matrix — and I laughed because it was so relatable and also so profoundly true.There’s a point in grief where everything becomes both sacred and absurd.We cry over a song, and then laugh at the absurdity of crying over a song.We miss someone so deeply it aches, and then find ourselves laughing at something they would have found funny.We experience spiritual awakenings while making breakfast.Grief doesn’t just break us open.It widens us.It teaches us to hold pain in one hand and humor in the other.And that balance — that dance — is what makes us human.The Moment Andy Saw Shayna Behind MeThere was a moment near the end of our conversation that caught me completely off guard.Andy paused, looked at me, and said he had been aware of the picture of Shayna behind me the entire time we were speaking.That moment went straight to my heart.He didn’t say it with theatrics.He didn’t say it for effect.He said it with the tenderness of someone who knows what it means to carry a loved one with you through every moment of your life.I talk about Shayna often.She’s part of my work.She’s part of my purpose.She’s part of the reason Grief 2 Growth exists.But this…This was different.I felt seen.I felt understood.I felt accompanied — not just by Andy, but by the very love that continues to guide my own grief journey.Grief is not something we get over.It’s something we carry.And that moment reminded me that we never carry it alone.What Andy’s Grief Journey Reminded Me OfTalking with Andy reminded me that:* Grief is not the enemy.* Running delays healing but cannot prevent it.* Vulnerability is one of the most powerful forms of courage.* Our identities are meant to evolve.* Pain can become a teacher.* Growth comes from turning inward, not outward.* We are shaped by loss in ways that deepen our capacity to love.Andy said, “I hold my grief with loving compassion,”That is the heart of the grief journey.Not erasing the pain.Not fixing it.Not rushing past it.But holding it — gently, honestly, gratefully.Your Turn: What Is Your Grief Inviting You Into?Andy’s story isn’t just his story.It’s a doorway.And now I want to ask you:What is your grief asking you to look at?What pain have you been running from?What identity is ready to be released?What part of you is waiting to be seen?Come share your reflections with me.Together, we learn.Together, we heal.Together, we grow.If this article touched you…💬 Comment🗣️ Join the chat📤 Share it with someone who needs it✨ Subscribe to support this work and stay connectedThank you for walking this journey with me — and with Shayna — every step of the way. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

There are conversations that sit with you long after they’re over. Conversations that don’t drift away when you hit “stop recording,” but settle into your spirit and stay there.My interview with Theo Boyd is one of those conversations.I talk with many people who have experienced unimaginable loss. But every so often, someone comes along whose story carries a texture, a weight, a depth that changes me as I hear it.That’s what happened with Theo.Her honesty.Her clarity.Her courage in naming the darkness.And her willingness to embrace hope again after life kept knocking her down…It all struck me in a way I didn’t expect.This article is about the lessons Theo offered—not just to listeners, but to me personally. Lessons about grief, about signs, about faith, and about what it means to rise again.It’s also about the moment she said a sentence I’ve never forgotten:“Grief is just like that black paint… it coats you and covers you. It takes a while for that to dry and chip away so the rays of light can come through.”That metaphor so encapsulated the way I think about early grief palpably.I think it may change something in you, too.⭐ The Moment the Black Paint Metaphor Hit MeWhen Theo said her grief felt like black paint, it landed hard.I’ve been walking my own grief path ever since Shayna passed. I know what it feels like to wake up in a world that doesn’t feel like yours anymore. I know what it means when colors dull, sounds flatten, and hope feels like a foreign language.But the way Theo described it brought me right back to that first year.Black paint.Wet. Heavy. Suffocating.A darkness that doesn’t ask permission.A darkness that sits on your skin and in your bones.Early grief feels like that.Messy. All-consuming. Impossible to see through.And like Theo said… it doesn’t fade on command.It doesn’t wash off because we “try harder.”It chips away slowly—tiny flecks at a time—usually when we’re not even aware of it.That metaphor alone is worth sharing with every grieving person I know.⭐ Listening to Loss After Loss After LossAs Theo spoke, I tried to imagine carrying everything she carried:* Her mother’s sudden death in a tragic farm accident* Her father’s decline and eventual suicide* Her counselor of 18 years passing unexpectedly* Her marriage falling apart* COVID isolation* The weight of community expectations* Her own faith shaking beneath her feetMost of these events would break a person on their own.Stacked together, they form a tower of emotional weight that few could stand under.And yet, there she sat with me—steady, clear, hopeful.Not pretending.Not minimizing.Not dismissing the pain.But embodying what it means to carry pain with purpose.Listening to her, I felt the familiar ache in my chest—the ache I’ve known since losing Shayna. That ache that reminds me grief never really goes away.But it also reminded me of something else:We can grow larger around our grief.Theo is living proof.⭐ The Signs That Stopped Me in My TracksI talk a lot about signs on Grief to Growth. I’ve seen them. I’ve felt them. I’ve lived with them since the morning I realized Shayna was still here—just different.But even for me, some of Theo’s stories made me stop and take a breath.The Alexa IncidentShe told me how she asked Alexa to play classical piano… but instead a song started playing—one she’d never heard before, written decades ago:“May the love that you’ve shown be shown to you.”When she told Alexa to stop, the song got louder.And louder.And louder.Only when the song ended did the device turn off on its own.As she spoke, I felt the hairs on my arms lift.I’ve heard many sign stories in my time.But this one?This one had weight.It was unmistakable.Undeniable.And deeply comforting.The ButterflyA butterfly visiting her at the same time, in the same place, day after day.The Deaf FarmerHer parents—one a deaf mother, the other a farmer—gone.And now she finds herself falling in love again…with a deaf farmer.You tell me that’s coincidence.I can’t.Signs matter.They draw us forward.They pull us back from despair.They remind us the relationship continues—even after physical death.Just as Shayna continues to show up for me, Theo’s parents show up for her.⭐ Faith That Breaks… and Faith That RebuildsThere was a moment in the interview where Theo said something I’ll never forget:“I gave up on my faith, but my faith never gave up on me.”That hit me squarely in the heart.Because grief tests faith in ways few people understand.When her father—her spiritual mentor—lost his faith after the accident, she followed him into that darkness.A lot of people do.But signs…Moments of connection…People placed in our lives at the right time…These things slowly rebuild belief. Not the old belief, but a new one—deeper, wiser, more expansive.I’ve experienced this myself since losing Shayna.Faith becomes less about certainty and more about presence.Theo’s journey reminded me that losing faith isn’t failure.Sometimes it’s part of the path.⭐ Writing as SurvivalWhen Theo told me she wrote her first book, My Grief Is Not Like Yours, the way some people breathe, I understood.Writing saved her.* Journaling.* Napkin notes.* Voice memos.* Lists of a hundred things she loved about her mother.These practices chipped the black paint—one crack at a time.I’ve always said grief needs outlets.Writing is one of the most powerful.Theo proved that.And in teaching her students to free-write their problems before class… she had unknowingly built the very tool she would one day need.There’s something beautiful about that.⭐ What the National Grief Study RevealedTheo invested more than her first house was worth to complete a nationwide grief study. The results floored me.* 68% of grieving Americans isolate themselves* 79% want the media to talk more about grief* 42% have grappled with suicidal thoughts after a major loss* Gen Z is struggling the mostAs someone who works with grieving families, these numbers chilled me.Isolation is dangerous.Silence is dangerous.Unwitnessed grief is dangerous.This is why conversations like the one I had with Theo matter.This is why you being here, reading this, matters.Grief needs community.Grief needs normalization.Grief needs to be witnessed.⭐ The Lesson That Stayed With MeTheo told me she’s building a new farmhouse on her family land—one that incorporates pieces of the old house she grew up in.This touched me deeply.Because healing is not about leaving the past.It’s about integrating it.It’s about carrying the ones we love forward.Not erasing them.Not “moving on.”We don’t leave our loved ones in the past tense.We weave them into our present.I do that with Shayna every day.You probably do that with your loved one too.Theo is doing it with her parents through architecture, memory, and intention.It’s beautiful.⭐ Hope Isn’t Loud—It Creeps InIf I had to summarize Theo’s message in one sentence, it would be this:Hope returns quietly.Not as fireworks.Not as epiphanies.But as tiny cracks in the black paint.A butterfly.A sign.A song.A friend’s voice.A moment of clarity.A new love.These moments remind us that we are still here.Still breathing.Still capable of feeling the sun again.Hope doesn’t erase grief.It coexists with it.Loss doesn’t stop life.It transforms it.⭐ What I Want You to RememberIf you take away anything from Theo’s story—and from mine—let it be this:You are not broken.You are becoming.Grief is not a disorder.Grief is not a competition.Grief is not a failure of strength.Grief is love—with nowhere physical to go.And hope is what happens when we finally let a little of that love back in.When the black paint chips—just enough to let the light through.⭐ Your Turn: Let’s TalkI want to hear from you.What has your “black paint” season looked like?What specks of light have appeared for you?Have you received signs from your loved ones?Share your story in the comments.Join the conversation.Invite someone else into it.This is how healing spreads—from one voice to another.👉 If this helped you, please comment, share, and subscribe atAnd thank you—for being part of this community, for showing up, and for choosing to heal in your own time, in your own way.Hope is already on its way.You’ll see it when the paint begins to crack. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

Every November/December, the world slips into this shimmering, glitter-covered dream where joy is supposed to be automatic. The songs promise it’s “the most wonderful time of the year.” The commercials show families who apparently have never argued, burned dinner, or lost anyone they love.But the reality?For many of us, the holidays feel like a weight. We dread it.We’re supposed to travel through crowded airports, spend money we don’t have, and sit with people we may not even like. Or, we may have no one to spend the time with.Beneath the tinsel and the expectations, something deeper is happening—emotionally, psychologically, even biologically. The more we understand it, the more compassionate we can be with ourselves.Want more? Make sure you subscribe.The False Shine of Unrealistic ExpectationsWe grow up believing the holidays should look like a Hallmark card. Perfect meals. Perfect moods. Perfect relationships.And when life doesn’t match that script? Shame creeps in.Years ago, I was in a relationship where every holiday—even Valentine’s Day—collapsed into chaos. We’re talking threats of self-harm, broken dishes, shouting, and physical aggression. After enough cycles, I finally realized the pattern and spoke with her about it. She admitted the truth:“It’s the expectations. I can’t handle what the holidays are supposed to feel like. When they don’t turn out that way, I lose it.”That stuck with me.Unrealistic expectations don’t lead to joy—they lead to explosions at worst, disappointment at best.Winter Is Dark, Literally and SpirituallyThere’s also a reason all of this happens this time of year—not just culturally, but cosmically.During this season:* The sun is weak* The days are short* Circadian rhythms dip* Our bodies crave rest, warmth, and stillnessAncient pagans lit fires and brought evergreen branches indoors to fight back the literal darkness. They weren’t decorating—they were surviving. Today, we push ourselves harder at a moment when nature is whispering, “Slow down”.That mismatch affects our mood more than we realize. We’re fighing the seasons and our bodies.The Holidays as a Portal to the PastThe holidays summon memories—some comforting, some painful.We remember:* parents and grandparents who have transitioned* children who have grown or moved away* marriages that ended* friendships that faded* homes we no longer live in* the version of ourselves that existed back thenIntellectually, we know life changes. We know nothing lasts forever. But, emotionally, we long for the familiar.The holidays turn all of that up to 11, and we can find ourselves wishing to be in the past rather than being present in the now.Family Tension, Political Stress, and Forced ProximityLet’s be honest: sometimes the hardest part of the holidays is the people sitting around the table.We live in a polarized moment. But let’s be honest, tensions have always existed, even within families. Political differences, religious tensions, old family roles—they all flare during the holidays.In fact, I’m giving a talk in two days about exactly this: strategies for navigating family dynamics this season. Because for many people, the holidays mean spending time with people they’d otherwise avoid.Without a plan, those gatherings can turn volatile—fast.What HelpsHere’s what we can control:✔ Reset Your ExpectationsYour holidays don’t have to look like anyone else’s. And, they’re most likely not going to look like the past.✔ Create New TraditionsLet the next chapter be shaped by who you are now—not who you used to be. You don’t have to roast a 20-pound turkey. You might not even like turkey. Do what feels right to you now.✔ Have a Plan for Hard ConversationsDecide ahead of time:* What topics are off-limits?* How long will you stay? If you have a significant other you’re attending with, have a plan before you get there.* Who can you take a break with or call if you need support?✔ Practice ImpermanenceMindfulness and meditation help us soften around change.Everything shifts. That’s not failure—it’s the nature of life. Be grateful for the past and make new memories in the present.A Final WordIf the holidays feel heavy, you’re not broken. You’re human.This time of year blends light and shadow, memory and longing, joy and ache. It asks us to be festive at the very moment our bodies and spirits are moving inward. So be gentle with yourself. Be spacious with your heart.Let the lights you hang be symbolic of the light you’re tending within.And remember: even the longest winter turns toward the sun. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

There are moments in life when love and suffering walk into the room together, holding hands like old friends. They don’t knock. They don’t ask whether you’re ready. They simply arrive — uninvited, unexpected, inseparable.That was the heart of my conversation with Zach Beach, a therapist, poet, teacher, and the author of Love and Suffering: A Spiritual Guide for Helpers, Healers, and Humans. The moment Zach and I began speaking, I felt a deep recognition — not just of his wisdom, but of the path he’s walked. It mirrors my own in many ways.“Where there is great love, there will often be great suffering.”—Zach BeachI’ve learned that truth through the deepest grief a parent can know — when my daughter Shayna left this world ten years ago. But I’ve also learned that loss is not the end of the story. If anything, it’s the turning of a page into a chapter we never expected to write.This is a story about love and suffering, and how the two shape us, stretch us, and ultimately awaken us to who we truly are.❤️‍🩹 Why Love and Suffering Are InseparableWhen I asked Zach why he paired these two words for the title of his book, he laughed gently and said:“Love and suffering is the story of our lives.”And isn’t that the truth?We spend our lives seeking love — and when we find it, we cling to it with everything we have. But the greater the love, the greater the possibility of loss. The deeper the connection, the deeper the ache when that connection shifts, changes, or ends in physical form.From a spiritual perspective, especially if you believe, as I do, that consciousness continues, love never ends. Relationships don’t break; they change shape. But the human heart still feels the tear.What struck me is how universal this is. No matter who we are, where we come from, or what we believe, love and suffering shape every human life.“If you’re alive long enough, you will suffer. And if you’re alive long enough, you will love.”This is the curriculum of the soul.🧠 Why We Resist Pain — And Why It Makes Things WorseZach talked about something that will resonate with anyone who has grieved:“What we resist persists.”Psychology backs this up. When we push emotions away, they don’t disappear. They go underground — only to surge back stronger. Neuroscience tells us the brain is wired to favor negative experiences. Evolution taught us to be alert for threats.So when grief arrives, we often:* distract* suppress* self-numb* or try to “logic” our way outBut grief doesn’t respond to logic. It responds to presence.As Zach said:“Emotions are messengers. We must let them speak.”When Shayna passed, I tried to be strong. I wanted to hold it together for my family, for myself, for everyone who looked to me. But eventually I learned that strength is not holding it in — it’s letting it flow.When we allow grief to be felt, it begins to transform us rather than drown us.🧘‍♂️ Learning to “Suffer Well” — Mindfulness as a Sacred PracticeOne of the most powerful ideas Zach shared was the concept of suffering skillfully.Not in a masochistic way. Not in a passive way. But in a mindful, compassionate, intentional way.He broke it down into simple steps:* Pause.* Breathe.* Notice.* Feel without fixing.* Respond with compassion.He shared the research from Dr. Kristin Neff on mindful self-compassion, which teaches us to:* hold our pain* identify its location in the body* treat ourselves the way we’d treat a loved oneFor many of us, that last part is the hardest.When I started meditating years ago, my friends said, “I could never sit still that long.” And I get it — most of us are uncomfortable being with our own thoughts. But as Zach said beautifully:“Meditation is not stopping the mind. It is watching the mind without obeying it.”Mindfulness doesn’t take suffering away, but it changes our relationship to it.It turns pain from an enemy into a teacher.🧡 Compassion: The Bridge Between Love and SufferingOne of the best parts of our conversation was Zach’s explanation of the difference between empathy and compassion.Empathy feels another’s pain.Compassion feels it — and adds the desire to help.“Compassion is energizing. Empathic distress is draining.”This hit home for me. People often ask how I do this work every day — talking with parents who’ve lost children, sitting in the darkest moments of people’s lives.The answer is that compassion gives me energy. When someone shares their pain with me, they’re not burdening me — they’re offering me a chance to love.I shared a moment with Zach about a friend who said, “Thank you for enduring my tears.” And I told her:“When you let someone see your pain, you’re giving them a gift.”Zach expanded this idea with a metaphor I will never forget:“When the right hand is hurt, the left hand bandages it.The left hand doesn’t resent the right.It simply helps.”That’s compassion.That’s love in action.💬 Why We Must Stop Trying to ‘Fix’ GriefThis is something every grieving person knows too well.“Don’t worry — you’ll have another child.”“They’re in a better place.”“You’re strong. You’ll get through it.”“At least they lived a full life.”None of these help.They reflect our culture’s discomfort with pain — not the griever’s needs.Zach said:“Premature problem-solving is a form of emotional avoidance.”When someone is grieving, they don’t need advice.They need presence.They need someone willing to go into the metaphorical cave with them and say:“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not alone.”🕊️ Grief as a Teacher — Sometimes a CompanionA client recently told me, “I don’t want anyone to take my grief away.”He wanted relief from guilt, regret, and trauma — sure. But not grief itself.Because grief is a bridge of love.A continuation of the bond.A reminder of what mattered.“Grief is the echo of love.”And sometimes that echo becomes a companion — not because we’re broken, but because we have loved deeply.As someone who believes in the continuity of consciousness, I know that grief isn’t proof that someone is gone.It’s proof that someone mattered.📿 What the Spiritual Traditions Teach About Love and SufferingZach laid out beautifully how the great spiritual traditions address suffering:Buddhism — speaks of liberation from sufferingChristianity — speaks of solidarity with sufferingMysticism — speaks of transformation through sufferingYoga — speaks of purification through sufferingI love how he compared the Buddha’s serene statues with the image of Jesus on the cross. They’re two different messages:* One says: “There is a path out of suffering.”* The other says: “You don’t suffer alone.”And then there’s the shortest, maybe most powerful verse in the New Testament:“Jesus wept.”Not for himself. Not because he was powerless.But because he felt the suffering of others.Love feels.Love joins.Love weeps.🌧️ The Cloud and the Paper — Nothing Truly DiesZach shared Thich Nhat Hanh’s famous metaphor:Hold up a sheet of paper.Ask: Do you see the cloud?Because the cloud became the rain.The rain became the tree.The tree became the paper.So where is death?“Nothing truly dies. Everything only changes form.”This truth brought me comfort in the early days after Shayna’s passing, and still does. She hasn’t stopped existing. She has changed form. She has become something — someone — woven into my very being.🌱 My Story — What Shayna Taught Me About Love and SufferingZach asked me how I came to understand suffering as something that could lead to growth.It wasn’t one moment. It was many.Losing my job when my daughter was a baby — at the time, it felt catastrophic. Years later, I saw how it pushed me into a path I never would’ve chosen otherwise.But the real earthquake was losing Shayna.In the months after, I had a choice:* let the pain destroy me* or let it remake meIt didn’t happen overnight.Grief rarely moves that quickly.But slowly, I began to see that love doesn’t end.Connection doesn’t end.Presence doesn’t end.“Unless a seed falls to the ground and dies, it remains alone.”(John 12:24)That verse became real to me.I realized I had been planted, not buried.Shayna’s transition didn’t break my life —it broke me open.She is the reason I do this work.She is my partner in it.And everything I create — every episode, every conversation, every soul helped — carries her fingerprints.🌳 What Zach Taught Me — The Mustard Seed of TransformationZach reminded me of the mustard seed — a tiny thing that becomes a sheltering tree.He said:“Brian, what you’ve grown out of your suffering has become a place where others can rest.”That moved me deeply.Because that’s the point of all of this, isn’t it?Not to avoid suffering.Not to pretend we’re above it.But to let suffering stretch our hearts so that others can find shelter within them.That’s the alchemy of grief.That’s the journey from grief to growth.✨ Key Takeaways* Love and suffering are inseparable — one deepens the other.* Resisting grief intensifies it; allowing it transforms it.* Mindfulness helps us “suffer well,” with compassion and clarity.* Compassion energizes; empathy alone can exhaust.* Platitudes harm — presence heals.* Grief often becomes a lifelong companion, not an enemy.* Across traditions, suffering is seen as teacher, purifier, or shared experience.* Nothing truly dies — everything changes form.* Your grief can become the seed of something transformative.💬 Join the ConversationHow have love and suffering shaped your journey?What has grief taught you that joy never could?Share your reflections in the comments — we grow by sharing our stories.If this piece resonates, please:💛 Subscribe💛 Share it with someone who needs it💛 Leave a comment This is a public episode. 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From the moment we’re born, a veil descends — not as punishment, but as part of the plan. Across cultures and centuries, humanity has described this same forgetting: the angel’s touch, the river of oblivion, the dream that feels like life. Now, physics and technology are beginning to echo those ancient whispers. What if the goal was never to escape the illusion — but to awaken within it?What if you didn’t wake up this morning — you logged in?Every morning feels like a return to reality, but what if reality is simply the next level of the dream?From the moment we take our first breath, we enter a world that feels solid, immediate, and absolute. But across cultures and centuries, mystics, prophets, and philosophers have whispered the same unsettling idea: that what we call “reality” might be more like a dream. A veil of forgetfulness descends as we arrive here, obscuring where we came from — and even who and what we truly are.Forgetting as a Design FeatureIn ancient Hebrew midrash, the angel Lailah guides the unborn soul into a body. Just before birth, she presses a finger to the child’s lips, erasing the memory of eternity. That forms the crease in your lip called the philtrum.In the Greek underworld, souls drink from the River Lethe to forget their past lives before returning to earth.And in Chinese myth, Meng Po waits at the Bridge of Oblivion, offering her soup of forgetfulness to each departing soul.Across continents and centuries, humanity has described the same moment — the crossing from eternity into time and the leaving behind the memory of Home.Each of these stories points to the same paradox: forgetting isn’t a punishment, but a necessary part of being human. We enter this world not as omniscient beings, but as amnesiacs in search of remembrance.Life as a DreamThe Hindu sages described existence as Māyā — a divine illusion, a dream woven by consciousness.The Buddha compared life to “a flash of lightning, a bubble in a stream, a dream.”In A Course in Miracles, the world is “a dream of separation” — we are not the figures in the dream, but the dreamer who has forgotten they are dreaming.Many Indigenous traditions echo this. Among several Native American peoples, the waking world and the dream world are not opposites but continuations of one another. The Creator dreams creation into being. Our nightly dreams are reminders of that origin — glimpses through the veil.Ancient Technologies of IllusionWhen you look across these traditions, a pattern begins to emerge. The myths read like descriptions of ancient spiritual technology — devices designed to generate experience through illusion.The veil, the river, the dream, the soup — each serves the same function. They are metaphors for an interface: a system that translates the infinite into the finite. They are the portal for consciousness to enter the game of life.And now, in our own age, we’ve started building versions of it ourselves.Our Modern Mirror: The SimulationPut on a virtual-reality headset, and your brain begins to forget.Your eyes and ears receive enough signals to convince you that you’re somewhere else entirely — another world, another body, another life. People stumble, run into walls, and feel motion sickness because their minds believe the illusion even though they know they are in a game.If we can already simulate a world that fools most of our senses, what happens when we imagine a simulation that engages all of them — sight, sound, touch, smell, taste, even emotion and memory? Imagine your brain in a jar hooked up to neural inputs that stimulate sight, sound, taste, touch… how would you know the difference between being in that jar and what we call reality?That’s the question behind simulation theory — a concept discussed not only in science fiction, but also by philosophers like Nick Bostrom, who proposed that if any civilization ever develops simulations indistinguishable from reality, then we are almost certainly living in one.Does that sound familiar?The myths of forgetting at birth, of drinking from Lethe, or tasting Meng Po’s soup, may not have been primitive superstition. They might have been early attempts to describe precisely what modern science is circling back to: that consciousness experiences itself through layers of simulated reality — and that forgetting is part of the protocol.From the Cave to the CodeLong before headsets and holograms, Plato imagined a different kind of simulation.In his Allegory of the Cave, prisoners are chained in darkness, mistaking the flickering shadows on the wall for reality. When one finally breaks free and sees the sunlight, the truth is almost too bright to bear. He returns to tell the others, but they refuse to believe him — preferring the comfort of familiar illusions. Sound like an NDE?Two thousand years later, The Matrix brought that same allegory to life through technology. Humanity sleeps in digital cocoons, dreaming a shared illusion crafted by intelligent machines. When Neo awakens, he must face the same disorienting revelation as Plato’s escaped prisoner: that the “real world” was only a projection all along.Both stories are mirrors — one ancient, one modern — reflecting the same question:If the senses mediate everything we perceive, how would we know if we were dreaming? One character in the Matrix, the one about to sell Neo out, bargains that when he reenters the Matrix, he wants to remember nothing. He prefers the taste of the simulated steak in the fake restaurant to the actual gruel of the world In the Cave, firelight projects shadows onto stone.In The Matrix, algorithms project experiences into the mind.And in our own lives, consciousness projects reality through the lens of perception.Each version of the story points to the same truth: the moment of awakening isn’t about leaving the illusion behind — it’s about recognizing it for what it is.Waking Up Inside the DreamEvery mystic and seer who has glimpsed beyond the veil says the same thing in their own language:You are not just inside the dream — you are the dreamer.Maybe the goal was never to escape the simulation, but to awaken within it. To remember what you are while still playing the game. To recognize that the walls, the sky, and even time itself are part of the same divine rendering.And maybe that’s what this whole human experience is — not punishment or accident, but an immersive, beautifully designed lesson in remembering.The Mirror TurnsThere’s one more question that changes everything:Why would the greater reality be just like a computer?Maybe it isn’t. Maybe it’s the other way around. Our computers are reflections of the greater reality.Maybe our technologies — our code, our simulations, our virtual realities — are primitive reflections of something far more intricate and incomprehensible. When we build worlds inside worlds, perhaps we’re not inventing anything new. We’re just mimicking the architecture of creation — the same way a dream mimics waking life, or a child imitates a parent.It’s possible that every new metaphor humanity invents — the loom, the clockwork universe, the simulation — is just a different lens for the same eternal mystery. Each era translates the ineffable into its own language of understanding.As technology advances, our metaphors evolve. But what they point to never changes:Reality is layered, conscious, and infinitely creative.We probably will never fully comprehend the Source behind it all — but sometimes, if we listen closely, we can sense it humming through everything we build, everything we dream, and everything we are. It’s hard to see or even imagine the big picture from inside the Matrix.If every dreamer eventually wakes, perhaps the universe itself is still stirring — preparing to open its eyes.The Final ReflectionPerhaps the veil of forgetfulness isn’t a flaw in the system.Perhaps it’s the most brilliant feature — the one that makes rediscovery possible.Because only by forgetting can we know the wonder of remembering.Only by dreaming can we awaken.And only by living inside the simulation can we realize that we are, and always have been, the ones who wrote the code.Your TurnHave you ever had an experience that felt like remembering something you’d forgotten your whole life?Share your story in the comments, or take a quiet moment today to ask yourself — what part of me is still asleep?I know there are a lot of newsletters you can support, and subscription fatigue is real. If you’d like to leave a one-time donation instead of subscribing, it would be very much appreciated. 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I’ve spent nearly a decade walking with people through grief—my own, and the grief of the parents, spouses, and seekers I coach. I’ve studied the heart, the mind, the soul, and the afterlife. I’ve looked at grief through the lenses of love, energy, and purpose.But my recent conversation with Cedric Bertelli reminded me of something simple, and yet profound:👉 Healing doesn’t start in the mind. It starts in the body.And sometimes, what we think is grief… isn’t.🧱 The Hidden Emotions Beneath GriefWhen Cedric and I sat down to talk about EmRes—his method of emotional resolution—I expected to learn a new technique. What I didn’t expect was how much of what he said would challenge my own assumptions about emotional healing.I’ve had many clients over the years tell me they’re “stuck” in grief.They say:“It’s been two years. I still can’t move on.”“I feel so much guilt… I should have done more.”“I’m just so angry at the doctors.”“I don’t think I’ll ever get better.”What I’ve learned is that often what keeps people from processing grief isn’t the grief itself—it’s the shame, guilt, anger, and unresolved fear that clings to the grief.Cedric calls these the parasitic emotions.They don’t help us grieve. They get in the way. They distract us from feeling the pure missing, the sacred pain of someone we love no longer being here in physical form.🧠 The Body Holds the StoryCedric explains that most of our emotional responses aren’t logical—they’re biological. Your brain remembers past pain and predicts that it will happen again. So it tells your body to prepare—by sending signals like a racing heart, a pit in your stomach, or the tightness in your throat.It’s not just in your head. It’s in your flesh.Hearing Cedric talk about this reminded me of moments in my own life—especially early on after Shayna passed. The sudden rush of panic when I walked into her room. The heat in my chest when someone said the wrong thing. The heaviness in my stomach that I couldn’t shake.These weren’t just “feelings.” They were predictions my body was making, based on trauma it hadn’t yet processed.💥 Why Regulating Emotions Isn’t EnoughWe’re taught to regulate emotions—to manage, control, or calm them. And that has its place. But Cedric explained something that flipped a switch for me:“Every time you regulate an emotion, you might be preventing it from resolving.”That hit home.How many times have I pushed through a painful emotion instead of feeling it? How often have my clients tried to “talk themselves out of” guilt or shame?What Cedric offers with EmRes is a way to complete those emotional loops by listening to the body—not overriding it.🌊 What I Learned About Emotional Healing Through Body AwarenessHere’s what I’ve taken from this episode—not just as a host or coach, but as a fellow traveler in grief and growth:* You can’t heal what you won’t feel.If you numb or distract yourself every time a feeling arises, you rob your body of the chance to resolve it.* The body knows what the mind forgets.Those tight muscles, fluttering heartbeats, and shallow breaths are messages. Pay attention.* Grief isn’t the enemy.Grief is the sacred thread that ties us to those we love. What hurts us are the extra layers of judgment and emotion we pile on top of it.* You don’t need to understand it to resolve it.This was maybe the most freeing idea of all. EmRes doesn’t require you to relive or explain the trauma. It just asks you to feel what the body is holding.🕯️ My Invitation to YouIf you’ve been feeling stuck, overwhelmed, or afraid of your own emotions, I invite you to listen to this episode. Not just with your ears, but with your whole being.Let Cedric’s words and methods give you permission to stop fighting your feelings—and start feeling them to heal.And if you’re a fellow grief worker, therapist, or coach, I strongly encourage you to explore EmRes. It’s a powerful addition to any healing toolkit.🎧 Listen to the Full Episode:🎙️ Emotional Resolution vs Emotional Regulation: A New Path to Healing with Cedric Bertelli🔗 Resources* 🌐 Cedric Bertelli’s Website* 📘 Learn more about EmRes and find a practitioner* 🎓 Attend a free or low-cost EmRes workshop💬 Let’s ConnectWhat part of Cedric’s message resonated most with you?Comment below, reach out, or send me a message at [email protected]. I’d love to hear your reflections.And if this helped you, share it with someone you care about. The more we bring awareness to the wisdom of the body, the more we invite true healing into our lives.🌱 In every moment of pain lies the potential for growth.Let’s grow together.If you liked this, make sure you sign up to receive more. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

You know, sometimes I feel like I’ve just had it with Democrats. We always find a way to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. Democrats always find a way to argue amongst ourselves. And I think this is one of those moments. The government reopens, the narrative landed, the voters responded last Tuesday. I’m saying to Democrats, take the freakin’ win. Showdowns are not policy machines. They are not how legislation is supposed to crafted.What A Shutdown Is NotShutdowns are actually moral megaphones, not policy crafting tools. We didn’t shut the government down to squeeze out a thousand-page bill with everything on the wishlist because that’s not how shutdowns work. Shutdowns are blunt messaging instruments. They don’t write policy. They broadcast values. They send a message. If the Democrats shut down the government until they got what they wanted, at no matter the cost, what is to stop Republicans from using the same technique to pass more tax breaks the next time they are in the minority?Over the last 40 days, the messages that reached everyday people were unmistakable: Who’s on your side when you need groceries or health coverage? Who’s willing to use ordinary families as bargaining chips? The answers to that are clear. The Trump administration fought as hard as it possibly could to keep food out of vulnerable people’s mouths. It went to court to stop SNAP benefits. It threatened state governments that dared to fill in the gap. The country saw it, and it shaped how they voted. I’m hearing people whining this morning, saying, “But we didn’t get anything.” That’s not at all true. We got a couple of things that matter:* We’re going to get an on-the-record choice on healthcare. There will be a vote on ACA subsidies. This forces them to vote on the subsidies to go away. This forces them to vote on whether your premiums should go up. We’re going to get them on record, and that matters. It frames the next negotiation, and it frames the next election. The ACA subsidies were supposed to die in darkness because they were left out of the one-big-beautiful bill. Now they’ll have to go on the record.* The other thing we got is the messaging. This narrative played out for 40 days. National attention stayed glued to the consequences of austerity. The story was not abstract spending; it was food. It was SNAP. It was medical insurance premiums, but with the difference whether people are going to have insurance or not, and whether or not the government works for regular people. That story now sits in the public mind, and that is leverage.During the shutdown, Donald Trump tore down the east wing and had a major party at Mar-a-Lago, a great Gatsby-style party. He also played golf several times. That messaging is going to stick.Another Huge Benefit The other thing is, we had this blue tsunami on Tuesday. Where a Democrat was on the ballot, voters chose the Democrat from governors down to dog catchers. That’s not coincidence; that’s cause and effect. Yes, part of it is the immigration policy of snatching people off the streets, inflation due to tariffs, and just a general feeling the country is heading in the wrong direction. But the shutdown played a role. Donald Trump said it himself. In the state of Virginia, for example, every single county voted more blue in this election than they did in the last election. Now they didn’t all vote blue, but more blue. Messaging met reality, and reality voted. We need to carry on that momentum.Progressives vs. ModeratesThis idea about progressive vs. moderates irks me. They say that the moderate Democrats voted with the Republicans to open up the government as if that’s something bad. I got to tell you, I’m as progressive as they come. I love big ideas, I love bold plans, I love moral clarity. But sometimes the most progressive strategy is to take the win. I am in favor of Universal Healthcare. I didn’t think the ACA went far enough. But I was in favor of it because it was the best we could do.The progressives brought us the fight. They brought the moral urgency. They got us the longest shutdown in history as another mark on Trump’s record. Moderates opened up the path to put a tough vote on the board and to end this needless harm. Democrats know that real people are hurting due to this shutdown. Families are food insecure. How long should we starve people in the hope of getting them affordable healthcare? Hope— not a guarantee that the Republicans would ever vote to continue the subsidies.Holiday travel was in jeopardy. Government workers are not only not receiving SNAP benefits, but are also working without pay. Democrats are the ones bringing them relief.Take The Freakin’ Win AlreadyLook up at the scoreboard. We won. A message is a seed. The policy that grows that message is the tree. If we want this moment to grow, here’s what we do. We take the message to the people. Democrats fought for you. Democrats want to make sure you are fed and have healthcare. Let’s keep telling the stories and let’s remind people that the Republicans were the ones that wanted to keep starving people while the Democrats said, “Okay, we’re going to open up the government so people can eat.” Let’s keep this vote clean and let’s keep it on the record. If Republicans choose to end the ACA subsidies, make sure people know who made that decision.We clarified the values of both sides. We will secure it on the record. Voters awarded the side that stood with them last Tuesday.Let’s not show our division; let’s not point fingers and say “you guys gave up.” The Republicans were never going to give us what we wanted on this ACA vote based on the shutdown. They showed they were willing to harm the American people more and more. They deliberately inflicted more pain than necessary.We can disagree as a family about tactics - okay, fine, and I’ve had many debates with people about what’s the right thing to do here - but today, let’s look at the scoreboard, nod to each other, and move the ball down the court. Let’s take the freakin’ win.Loved this? Here’s how to help—30 seconds:* Share this post with one friend or group →* Subscribe for future posts & tools → * Tip to support my grief-to-growth work → Thank you for walking each other Home with me. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

When we think of grief, most of us think of death. We think of funerals, loss, and final goodbyes. But there’s another kind of grief that rarely gets acknowledged—grief that’s harder to name, harder to explain, and often invisible to the world. It’s the grief of chronic illness.In my recent conversation with Brenda Snow, author of Diagnosed and founder of Snow Companies, we dove deep into this unnamed grief. Beyond that, we spoke of how it can be the starting point for something meaningful. Brenda is living proof that even when life takes a hard left turn, hope is still on the map.The Grief of Not Being BelievedBrenda’s story begins like too many others: with a body breaking down and no one taking her seriously. Strange symptoms. Exhaustion. Vision loss. A creeping sense that something was very wrong.And then the dismissal:“You’re just stressed.”Worse, she was told by a neurologist in front of her father that she should be committed. Not because she had MS—because he didn’t believe she had anything at all. That moment, of being completely dismissed, was one of the darkest in her life. I could feel it as she told the story. That’s a kind of grief no one talks about: the grief of not being heard.“There was grief even before the diagnosis. Grief from not being seen by the people who were supposed to help me.”As someone who’s spent years talking with grieving people, I recognized this pain immediately. It’s a kind of anticipatory grief mixed with shame, confusion, and deep loneliness.Hope Shows Up In Unexpected PlacesBrenda hit her emotional bottom that day. Her father couldn’t talk her out of it. She went home ready to give up.And then came the moment that shifted everything: her young daughter looked at her with big blue eyes and asked,“Mommy, are you going to die?”She didn’t have an answer. But what she did have was a reason to try one more time. That love—the kind only a child can inspire—was the spark.It’s often that way with hope. It’s not a grand rescue or a sudden fix. It’s a quiet whisper: Try again.The Grief of Chronic Illness Begins Before DiagnosisEventually, Brenda found a compassionate doctor who listened, ran tests, and gave her the name: Multiple Sclerosis.It was devastating. But it was also a relief.“If it has a name, maybe we can do something about it.”That’s when the grief really began. Because once the fog of uncertainty lifted, the reality of what she had to face came crashing in.And this is something many people don’t understand: the grief of chronic illness starts before diagnosis and continues long after. It’s the grief of waking up in a body that feels foreign. Of imagining futures that no longer seem possible. Of losing parts of yourself before anyone else notices they’re gone.The Emotional Layers: Guilt, Anger, BlameOne of the things I appreciated most in this conversation was Brenda’s honesty about what she felt in those early days: not just sadness, but guilt.“I remember thinking: What did I do to deserve this?”It’s a lie many of us believe. If something bad happened, someone must be to blame—so we turn the blame inward. We assume we’re being punished. That somehow, we brought it on ourselves.But that guilt is heavy. It drags down whatever strength we have left. As I told Brenda, I’m finishing a course on grief and guilt, and it’s one of the most persistent, damaging emotions people carry.She put it beautifully:“You did nothing to deserve this. This isn’t retribution. It’s not punishment. It just is.”What Acceptance Really Looks LikeThere’s a point in the journey with chronic illness—or any life-changing event—where you hit a crossroads: fight or surrender. But Brenda discovered a third way: acceptance.Not giving up. Not losing herself. But also not pretending to be at war with reality.She described MS as a weed in her garden, choking out everything else. Until she realized the weed wasn’t going away. And instead of fighting it, she reached for its hand.“MS was part of me. I had to take its hand and walk forward. That’s when growth began.”This moment floored me. It’s the heart of what I try to help people understand through Grief 2 Growth. Acceptance isn’t weakness—it’s strength. It’s the day we stop wasting energy resisting reality and start using that energy to rebuild.Little Wins: Making Toast & Rebuilding WorthI asked Brenda how she started finding herself again after the diagnosis. Her answer? Making toast.She remembers the day she made breakfast for her daughter from her wheelchair. Most people wouldn’t think twice about it. But for Brenda, it was a breakthrough.“I was so proud of that moment I’m still talking about it 30 years later.”That’s how healing happens. Not all at once. Not in heroic leaps. In small, daily wins. One toast. One kind thought. One hopeful act at a time.As someone who coaches people through grief, I see how often we overlook our resilience. Just getting out of bed is a win. And we need to celebrate those things out loud.From Diagnosis to Disruptor: The Birth of Snow CompaniesAfter a few years of navigating her illness, Brenda realized something: no one in the pharmaceutical world was talking to patients like her.She literally banged on the door of the company that made her medication. And to her surprise, they let her in. She shared her story—and they listened.That was the beginning of what would become Snow Companies, a global leader in patient engagement. A company that now employs hundreds, all because one woman refused to be silenced.“I was just trying to pay my bills. I didn’t mean to start a movement.”But movements often begin that way. With someone who sees what’s missing and is brave enough to say, “There’s a better way.”Reimagining Identity After IllnessOne of the most painful parts of chronic illness is the loss of identity. You’re no longer who you thought you were. People see the diagnosis before they see you.Brenda told me how hard it was to use a cane in her twenties. How the medication changed her body. How her memory and cognition suffered.“I didn’t just lose function. I lost myself.”And this is where the grief of chronic illness gets especially tricky. You start mourning futures that haven’t even happened yet. You grieve the wedding you may not attend. The job you might not return to. The normal life that slips further away.That’s why staying present matters so much. As Brenda said, if you start grieving phantom losses, you’ll be swallowed by what-ifs.What Needs to Change in HealthcareWe talked about how much more compassionate care has to become. About how doctors need training not just in medicine, but in being human.“This may be part of your daily job. But for us, it’s the day our world changes forever.”Brenda isn’t anti-doctor. She credits the right physician with saving her life. But she’s honest: the system isn’t built for empathy.And access is still a problem. Some people die without getting the treatment they need—simply because they can’t afford it.Healthcare needs a reset. Not just in cost, but in compassion.Diagnosed: A Roadmap for the Patient JourneyBrenda’s book Diagnosed isn’t a memoir. It’s a survival guide.It walks patients—and caregivers—through the messy emotional terrain of life after a diagnosis. From grief to resilience. From lost to grounded.“It’s the book I wish I had 30 years ago.”If you or someone you love is facing a chronic or life-changing illness, this book belongs on your nightstand. It’s funny. It’s honest. It doesn’t shy away from pain—but it never loses sight of hope.And if you can’t afford a copy? Brenda will send you one herself. Just email her at [email protected] Thoughts: From Buried to PlantedThis episode reminded me why I started Grief 2 Growth.Brenda’s story is everything this platform is about. We may feel buried in the darkest moments of our lives. But in time, with love, hope, and support—we grow. Not back into who we were, but into someone new.We are not our diagnoses. We are not our grief. But both are part of the soil that shapes who we become.🗣 Let’s Keep This Conversation GoingI’d love to hear from you.💬 Have you experienced the grief of chronic illness—either your own or someone else’s? What was the hardest part? What helped?👉 Leave a comment below or join us on grieftogrowth.substack.com💌 Share this article with someone who needs to feel seen🔁 Forward it to a friend or caregiver📥 Subscribe for more stories of hope, purpose, and healing📘 Get Brenda’s Book:👉 Diagnosed on Amazon🌐 Brenda’s Website:www.brendasnow.com📩 Contact Brenda:[email protected] This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

Grief breaks us. It rips through our lives like a storm with no warning, often leaving us feeling uprooted and alone. But what if grief isn’t a punishment, or a mistake, or something to be avoided—but a necessary turning point on our soul’s journey?In a deeply powerful conversation on the Grief 2 Growth podcast, I sat down with mystic, spiritual teacher, and beloved creator of the Life Explained series, Hans Wilhelm, to talk about the spiritual meaning of grief and how understanding universal spiritual laws—like karma, reincarnation, and divine love—can transform the way we experience loss.Whether you’re in the early days of heartbreak or further along your healing path, this article is for you.🌱 Grief As a Gateway to GrowthPain is often where transformation begins. It wakes us up. It shakes loose the false certainty we’ve built around ourselves—and invites us to ask the real questions.* Who am I?* Why am I here?* Where do we go when we die?Hans Wilhelm sees grief not as a detour from life’s purpose, but as part of the very path we came to walk.“Earth is not our home—it’s a school. And every painful experience is a chance to grow, evolve, and return to love.”— Hans WilhelmIf you’re in grief right now, you may not feel like you’re growing—you may feel shattered. But as Hans says, we haven’t been buried. We’ve been planted.🔁 Understanding Karma: The Soul’s Cause and EffectOne of the most misunderstood spiritual concepts is karma. For Hans, karma isn’t a cosmic punishment system—it’s the spiritual residue we carry from anything that deviates from love.Every time we think, speak, or act in a way that’s unloving, it creates an energetic imprint on our soul—a shadow that distances us from divine light. That shadow is what we call karma.“Karma is like a recording. It’s stored in our soul and in the universe until it is forgiven or transformed.”— Hans WilhelmThe good news? Karma isn’t forever. We’re not doomed to carry guilt for lifetimes. Karma can be healed in two ways:* Through forgiveness—giving or asking* Through experiencing the pain we once causedSo if you’re grieving, this could be part of that process—not as a punishment, but as an invitation to heal.🔄 Reincarnation: A Missing Piece of the Christian PuzzleMany people raised in traditional religions—myself included—struggle to understand how a loving God could allow so much suffering. But that question only makes sense if you believe this is our only life.Hans explains that reincarnation was part of Christ’s original teachings, later removed by the early church for political reasons. (Yes, we talk about Emperor Justinian and how he suppressed these teachings in the 6th century.)“Reincarnation gives us context. It helps us understand why we’re here and why life looks the way it does.”— Hans WilhelmWhen we understand that we’ve lived before—and will likely live again—it removes the idea that life is random or unfair. Instead, everything becomes part of a soul-level curriculum. Your grief, your loss, even your deepest heartache… it’s not meaningless.🧬 Life Was Planned—Even This PartIf you’ve lost someone you love, you might find yourself thinking, “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”But what if it was?According to Hans, most souls plan their major life experiences before birth—including when and how they will leave the physical body. From the soul’s point of view, every incarnation has a purpose. Some are long. Some are short. But none are “cut off too soon.”“Your daughter may have only needed 15 years in this lifetime. That was enough to complete what her soul came here to do.”— Hans WilhelmIf you’ve lost a child, or someone you believed should’ve had more time, this idea can be both painful and healing. You didn’t lose them “too soon.” You lost them right on time—from a spiritual point of view.And that means you’re not being punished. You’re being invited into the next stage of your soul’s growth.💔 Mourning vs. Grief: What’s the Difference?Hans makes a crucial distinction between grief and mourning:* Grief is emotional. It’s the natural response to love that has nowhere to go.* Mourning is mental. It’s driven by thoughts like, “This shouldn’t have happened” or “They missed out on prom, or a wedding, or growing old.”But here’s the truth: We don’t really know what someone has “missed out” on. We only know what we wanted.“Mourning is often about ourselves—not about the soul who has passed on.”— Hans WilhelmThis doesn’t mean your grief isn’t real. But it can help to ask: Am I grieving their loss—or mine?When you stop imagining everything they won’t experience, you start making space for everything they still are—and everything they’ve gained.🕊️ The Spiritual Meaning of SuicideFew losses shake us like suicide. The questions that follow are heavy:* Are they at peace?* Are they being punished?* Could I have prevented it?Hans offers one of the most compassionate frameworks I’ve ever heard:“There is no punishment in the universe. Only consequences. Suicide is not a sin—it’s a soul stepping out of school early. But the lesson still has to be learned eventually.”— Hans WilhelmMost souls who die by suicide feel intense remorse—not because they’re punished, but because they realize their journey isn’t over. They’ll return, start again, and face the same lesson another way.And for those left behind?Guilt is often misplaced. Yes, it’s normal to wonder if you could’ve seen the signs—but no one is responsible for another soul’s decision to leave. What we can do is love them still and continue our own healing.🔦 We Are Never AloneIf there’s one message Hans wants us to remember, it’s this:You are never alone. Ever.Every soul is surrounded by divine support—guardian spirits, guides, and the Christ energy within us. The universe is not indifferent to your grief. It is holding you, guiding you, and inviting you back into a relationship with the light.When you surrender—whether through prayer, journaling, or simply whispering, “Help me”—you open the door to real transformation.💡 A Different Way to See GriefAfter the episode, Hans shared a story that struck a deep chord with me.A woman grieving her father’s passing kept trying to connect with him spiritually. One day, she heard him say:“Go to YouTube and search Hans Wilhelm.”She thought it was a joke. But she did it—and found Hans’ video on grief and mourning.In that moment, she realized what her father was trying to say: Let me go. I’m okay. Now you have to live.Sometimes, that’s the hardest spiritual truth of all.📝 Key Takeaways* Grief is not the end—it’s an invitation.* Karma is not punishment. It’s an imbalance we’re here to heal.* Reincarnation gives us context for suffering—and comfort in loss.* Grief becomes healing when we stop resisting it.* Your loved ones are not gone. They’re just in a different room.* Your soul has a purpose. Even now. Especially now.💬 Join the ConversationI’d love to hear from you:👉 What’s one insight from this episode that shifted your perspective on grief or loss?👉 Have you experienced signs or messages from loved ones on the other side?📨 Drop your thoughts in the comments📰 Join our community on grieftogrowth.substack.com💖 Share this article with someone who’s grieving and needs a spiritual perspective🙏 Closing ThoughtGrief is real. So is love. And love doesn’t end when a body dies.When we remember who we are—and why we’re here—we begin to understand that death is not the enemy. Separation is not the truth.We are eternal.We are loved.And we are never, ever alone.With love and growth,Brian D. SmithGrief 2 Growth is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

What if the line between life and death isn’t the end — but a beginning?For Charlie Bynar, life was divided into two halves: before Isaac and after Isaac. When her only child passed at the age of sixteen, her world was reduced to rubble. But in the depths of grief, something extraordinary happened.She began receiving messages.This wasn’t wishful thinking or desperate imagination. Charlie — a former skeptic — experienced clear, consistent, and specific signs from her son Isaac after he crossed over.Today, Charlie is the award-winning author of Through the Darkness: A Story of Love From the Other Side, a memoir that blends hard truth with spiritual awakening. In this article, we’ll explore Charlie’s powerful story of healing, hope, and after-death communication from a child — and what it means for all of us navigating grief.⚫ A Tragic Beginning – The Loss of IsaacIsaac was born under difficult circumstances. Charlie’s labor stretched over 36 hours, with clear signs of fetal distress that were tragically ignored. The umbilical cord had wrapped around his neck twice. As a result, Isaac suffered a brain injury at birth — and a lifetime of challenges followed.But those who knew Isaac quickly realized something: his spirit far outshone his physical limitations. He was brilliant, kind, and deeply intuitive. At just eight years old, he posed this question to his mother:“What’s the greatest force in nature?”Charlie, thinking scientifically, guessed a supernova.Three days later, Isaac returned with his answer:“Time. Because without time, nothing happens.”He was right. And eventually, time would be the very force that carried him into the next realm.When Isaac died from a seizure at sixteen, Charlie’s world collapsed. She found herself locked in a fog of disbelief, anger, and heartbreak.And then the lights started turning on…✨ Signs from the Other SideTwo weeks after Isaac’s passing, Charlie had her first dream visitation. In the dream, Isaac whispered in her ear: “I miss you.”She awoke, startled — but convinced it was more than a dream. Soon after, physical signs began appearing.Most notable was the laundry room light. Equipped with a motion sensor, the light began turning on in the middle of the night — when no one was near it. Over and over, day and night, the light would blink on… as if Isaac were saying:“I’m still here.”Charlie wasn’t alone in witnessing it. Friends and family noticed the odd occurrences. Over time, she began to realize that these weren’t coincidences. This was Isaac, in his own subtle way, reaching across the veil.🔮 Mediumship and Miraculous ValidationAs more signs appeared, Charlie’s curiosity deepened. She consulted a psychic medium in Sedona, Arizona, and later met with Allison DuBois — the real-life medium behind the TV series Medium.What happened during that reading changed everything.As Charlie sat in Allison’s office, she struggled with what to wear. She finally decided to put on Isaac’s gray hoodie — something deeply personal and comforting.Without knowing this, Allison began the reading and immediately said:“He tried to get you to wear his shirt today.”Charlie was stunned. That was only the beginning. Allison went on to describe matching tattoos, specific memories, and — most profoundly — that Isaac remembered feeling Charlie’s heartbeat next to his as he lay in the hospital. It was a moment only mother and son shared, and Allison had no way of knowing.It was proof. And with it, the pain didn’t go away — but the loneliness began to lift.👁️ What Is After-Death Communication from a Child?After-death communication (ADC) refers to the direct or indirect contact we receive from loved ones who have passed. For parents, after-death communication from a child is one of the most profound — and common — spiritual experiences in grief.These messages can come in many forms:* Dream visitations* Electrical phenomena (lights, devices turning on/off)* Symbols in nature (butterflies, hawks, dragonflies)* Sensing their presence or hearing their voice* Messages delivered through mediumsChildren often come through with striking clarity. Many grieving parents report dreams that feel “more real than real” — full of color, touch, sound, and emotion. These are not ordinary dreams. These are moments of connection between realms.Why do children communicate so clearly? Some say it’s because their energy is purer. Others believe it’s because the bond between parent and child is so strong that death cannot sever it.Charlie now believes Isaac is closer than ever — guiding her, loving her, and co-creating with her from the other side.🕊️ The Power of ForgivenessCharlie’s journey wasn’t just about signs. It was about transformation. And that meant confronting two overwhelming injustices:* The medical negligence that led to Isaac’s lifelong brain injury* The murder of her Aunt Mabel — one of the first victims of a serial killerHow does one forgive such things?For Charlie, it came down to empathy — and a broader understanding of consciousness.She began to study the science behind psychopathy and empathy. Through her research, she discovered that the brains of serial killers often show shut-down empathy centers. Trauma, neglect, and abuse can literally rewire the brain to disconnect from compassion.“I began to see the killer not as a monster,” Charlie said, “but as a once-innocent child who had been so hurt, he couldn’t feel anymore.”This didn’t excuse the actions. But it allowed her to release the burden of hate.Forgiveness, she discovered, wasn’t about condoning the act. It was about freeing herself from the poison of rage and grief.📘 Through the Darkness – The Book and the MessageCharlie’s memoir, Through the Darkness, is a unique blend of narrative nonfiction and spiritual imagination.Two-thirds of the book follow her real-life journey after Isaac’s passing. The final third explores the afterlife through Isaac’s imagined perspective — along with Charlie’s ancestors watching over her.The book is more than a memoir. It’s a roadmap for navigating the soul’s darkest night.It’s also a bridge between worlds. Charlie didn’t set out to write a book — but during her reading, Allison DuBois told her:“You and Isaac are going to write a book together.”And now they have.🐜 Creating Isaac’s Legacy – The Ant FoundationIsaac had a passion for ants — their structure, community, and intelligence fascinated him. After his passing, Charlie and her husband founded Isaac’s Ant Foundation, building live ant exhibits in his honor.Their colony now lives at the American Museum of Natural History in New York City — a world-class institution visited by millions. It’s a stunning example of grief transformed into creation.Charlie never studied entomology. She’s not a scientist. She’s a grieving mother who wanted to make her son’s legacy matter.“When you’re in grief, working with your hands helps heal your heart,” she said.💬 Love Doesn’t DieCharlie’s journey offers proof of one thing above all else:Love never ends.Her story is not just about after-death communication from a child. It’s about transformation. It’s about holding both pain and peace. It’s about letting your child continue to teach you — from beyond.If you’re walking this road, wondering whether your child is still with you… the answer may already be whispering to you. You only need to open your heart.💌 Join the ConversationHave you experienced after-death communication from your child or a loved one?✨ Share your story in the comments.🗣️ Join the ongoing discussion at grief2growth.substack.com🔔 Subscribe to receive future stories of healing and hope.🔗 Learn More About Charlie Bynar* 🖥️ Website: charliebynar.com* 📕 Book: Through the Darkness: A Story of Love from the Other Side* 📖 Free preview: booksirens.com* 🎧 Available on Audible, Kindle, and in paperback💬 Final Words“They may be gone from sight — but they’re never far from soul.”Don’t just grieve. Grow. Connect. Create.And know this: You are not alone. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

Life after child loss can seem impossible. But, Melissa Hull found a way.“Love will always outlast life.” – Melissa HullWhen Melissa Hull lost her 4½-year-old son Drew in a tragic drowning accident, she wasn’t sure she wanted to keep living. The grief was suffocating. The guilt, unbearable. But what emerged over the next 25 years was a powerful evolution—one rooted not in “moving on,” but in bringing Drew with her.In this deeply moving episode of Grief to Growth, I had the honor of speaking with Melissa on the very day her book launched: Dear Drew: Creating a Life Bigger Than Grief. Her story isn’t just about surviving child loss. It’s about creating a new kind of life—one that holds both sorrow and joy, brokenness and beauty, despair and divine connection.This is Melissa’s story. But if you’ve ever lost someone you love, it might feel like yours too.💔 A Mother’s Worst DayMelissa’s story begins with a quiet, ordinary morning—until everything changed.It was 4:55 AM. Exhausted from tending to her younger son’s asthma through the night, Melissa had just settled Drew in with his favorite breakfast—beef ravioli—and a Thomas the Tank Engine video. He was bright, joyful, and full of energy, just as he was every morning.But that morning would be different. Melissa went to attend to Drew’s younger brother and fell asleep.Moments later, she awoke to a silent house. Drew was gone.She searched frantically. First, the house. Then the yard. Then the canal.And there, just 200 yards from her home, she found his tiny footprints... and her dogs’ wet paw prints leading toward a large irrigation canal.Within hours, authorities confirmed what she already feared: Drew had drowned.That moment split Melissa’s life into two halves—before and after.🚫 The Myth of “Moving On”Like so many bereaved parents, Melissa was immediately met with well-intentioned but harmful clichés:“He’s in a better place.”“It was God’s plan.”“You need to move on.”Those words didn’t help. In fact, they hurt.“It pissed me off,” Melissa says plainly. “It made me feel like my grief wasn’t welcome. That I should hurry up and be done.”But she knew in her soul that leaving Drew behind was never going to be part of her story. Instead, she made a radical decision:“I’m doing this my way.”🔄 Grieving On Her Own TermsMelissa’s path was not traditional. She didn’t follow a set of “stages.” She followed her heart.She explored every possible healing modality—both scientific and spiritual:* She studied Reiki and became a certified Reiki Master.* She traveled to Sedona in search of energy vortexes and clarity.* She consulted with mediums and psychics.* She read books like The Alchemist and The Fifth Mountain.This wasn’t a quest to escape grief—it was a quest to understand it, and to integrate it into her new life.“I wasn’t looking to ‘get over’ my son. I was looking for ways to keep him with me, to build a life where he was still part of the story.”✍️ Writing as a LifelineIn the early days, Melissa found it difficult to express her grief in words, so she turned to art.She painted, using color and chaos to express what she couldn’t say.Then came the writing.Melissa wrote a letter to Drew every single day for a year. She called it her “year of magical thinking.”She imagined Drew as Peter Pan—forever young, off on adventures in a realm where he couldn’t send postcards, but where she could still write to him.These letters were sacred. They were her bridge between despair and connection. Between isolation and remembrance.💌 A Letter That Saved Her LifeBut one letter—written to Melissa—would change everything.A stranger named Teresa, a mother who had lost her daughter, wrote Melissa a handwritten letter after hearing her story.Teresa’s words were not filled with platitudes. They were filled with truth.She acknowledged the guilt.The shame.The crushing weight of self-blame.And then, she offered this:“Joy and beauty can coexist alongside this pain—but you will have to choose to find it, and you will have to choose it every single day.”That letter became Melissa’s lifeline.It was the proof she needed that someone had walked this road... and survived.🙏 Finding Purpose Through ServiceMelissa didn’t stop at healing herself. She wanted to help others avoid the pain she endured.She launched a water safety campaign for young children—especially in her own community, where miles of irrigation canals go unguarded.She visited preschools.She educated parents.She taught children how to recognize danger and stay safe.“Every time I spoke to a child, I saw Drew’s face in their eyes,” she said. “It became my mission.”And it worked.Years later, those same children—now adults—still come up to Melissa and tell her they never forgot what she taught them.Through service, Drew’s legacy lives on.🌻 Daily Rituals That Keep Drew CloseOne of the most common fears for grieving parents is the thought: “What if I forget them?”Melissa felt that too.So she created daily rituals to keep Drew close:* Talking to him in the garden* Planting sunflowers (his favorite)* Watching hummingbirds and thinking of his energy* Keeping his photos visible and present* Wearing reminders of him daily“I never stopped talking to Drew,” she says. “To this day, 25 years later, I talk to him. I tell him what I’m doing. He is part of everything I do.”💖 A New Relationship with GriefToday, Melissa says her grief has changed.It’s no longer an anchor.It’s a teacher.A sacred reminder of how deeply she loved.“Grief is not a problem to be solved,” she told me. “It’s the shadow side of love’s brilliance. It’s a call from the soul to hold onto the love that remains.”Her grief isn’t gone. But it’s softened. It’s integrated. And it now shares space with gratitude, joy, and even laughter.📘 Dear Drew: A Letter to All of UsMelissa’s new book, Dear Drew: Creating a Life Bigger Than Grief, is the culmination of everything she’s learned.It’s more than a memoir.It’s a lifeline for someone who, like her, is struggling to keep going.“I wrote this book to be someone else’s Teresa,” she says. “To be that letter that saves someone’s life.”It’s for anyone who has felt:* Abandoned by their faith* Trapped by guilt* Paralyzed by “what if”* Unsure if they can survive another dayIf you’re reading this, and any of that sounds like you—Melissa wrote this for you.🌱 You Can Create a Life After Child LossYou don’t have to “move on.”You don’t have to pretend it didn’t happen.You can cry. You can scream. You can fall apart.But then—when you’re ready—you can begin again.Not by erasing the past, but by building something with it.“Even though their lives may not have continued, their love and presence can,” Melissa says. “I’m living proof that we can create a life bigger than grief.”💬 Join the ConversationIf Melissa’s story touched you, you’re not alone. Let’s keep this space open for healing.🌻 Comment below: What part of Melissa’s journey resonated with you most?📬 Subscribe for more stories like this: https://grieftogrowth.substack.com📘 Get Melissa’s book: https://melissahull.com🔁 Share this post with someone who is grieving and needs hope.💡 Final ThoughtGrief doesn’t mean your life is over. In Melissa’s words:“Mess can still become masterpiece.”So water the seeds. Feel the pain. Tell your story.And trust that—just like Melissa—you too can create a life after child loss. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

“You don’t become a medium. You remember who you are.” Effie LinkeWhat if the pain of your loss isn’t the end—but the beginning of something bigger?For many of us, the death of a loved one, the unraveling of a belief system, or the deep ache of grief can lead us down a path we never expected: a spiritual awakening after loss.In this episode of Grief 2 Growth, I speak with Effie Linke, a gifted medium and teacher whose awakening came not from seeking—but from surrender.Raised in a traditional Greek Orthodox household, Effie once dismissed the very idea of mediumship. But as life unfolded and spirit called louder, she was forced to question everything—and in doing so, she found her truth.This conversation is a gentle but powerful reminder: You are more than your grief. And your pain might just be the invitation to discover who you truly are.🏛️ Breaking Through Belief Systems“Everything I was raised to believe told me this was wrong. But my soul said otherwise.” – Effie LinkeEffie’s story begins in the walls of the Greek Orthodox Church. A world where rituals were sacred, questioning was discouraged, and anything outside religious doctrine was considered dangerous or sinful.Like many spiritual seekers, she didn’t begin her journey by looking outward. Instead, she tried to conform, to do what was expected. But the inner nudge, that quiet feeling that something wasn’t aligned, kept rising.Many people begin their spiritual awakening after loss when their current framework can no longer hold their pain. For Effie, that shift began after years of living someone else’s truth.When life breaks us open, old beliefs fall away. And in that collapse, the soul often whispers: “There’s more.”🔥 The Moment That Changed EverythingEvery awakening has a catalyst.For Effie, it was a psychic reading she didn’t expect and couldn’t ignore.She went in curious but skeptical. She came out forever changed. The accuracy, the energy, the undeniable validation from Spirit cracked her open. It didn’t just speak to her—it called her.“I couldn’t deny it anymore. It was real. Something inside me woke up.”This is common among those who awaken after loss. A moment of spiritual clarity, a synchronicity, a dream, a sign, arrives and can’t be explained away. The heart knows before the mind catches up.Effie didn’t ask to become a medium. She was called. Eventually, she answered.🧘‍♀️ The Loneliness of AwakeningNo one tells you that awakening can be incredibly lonely,especially after grief.Effie describes the early days of her spiritual journey as confusing and isolating. She was afraid to tell anyone what she was experiencing. She doubted her sanity. She questioned whether she could trust what she felt.If you’re on your own spiritual awakening after loss, you might relate.“There’s grief in awakening,” Effie says. “You grieve who you were. You grieve how you saw the world. It’s a death of its own.”But slowly, through her courage to keep going, Effie found others on the path. Teachers, mentors, clients, and eventually, community.The reminder: You are not alone. And the people who will understand you are already looking for you, too.🔮 Medium vs. Psychic: What’s the Difference?Effie is clear on this point: not all psychics are mediums, and not all mediums are psychics.Understanding the difference helps seekers find the support they truly need.* A psychic tunes into your energy—past, present, and future.* A medium connects with energy outside the physical realm—most often, loved ones in spirit.Effie is both, but she emphasizes the healing power of mediumship: “It’s not about prediction. It’s about connection.”When you’re grieving, what you often need isn’t someone to tell you the future. You need someone to validate that love continues. That consciousness doesn’t die. That your loved one is still near.That’s what a medium like Effie offers; not answers, but reconnection.🌱 Mediumship as a Path of GrowthEffie’s philosophy is refreshing: mediumship isn’t about being “special.” It’s about remembering who you are and constantly growing.“We’re always evolving. A medium doesn’t stop learning just because they can channel.”For those feeling called to explore their own spiritual gifts after loss, this is important.Effie doesn’t see mediumship as performance. It’s a practice of self-awareness.The more you grow, the clearer your channel becomes. The more you heal, the more you can serve.This is the intersection of grief and growth: The inner work not only helps you. It opens the door for others.💌 Healing Messages From SpiritIf you’ve ever received a message from a loved one in Spirit, whether through a medium, a dream, or a sign, you know how healing it can be.It’s not about proving the afterlife. It’s about feeling seen, held, and reminded: “I’m still with you.”Effie shares story after story of clients who weren’t looking for entertainment. They were looking for peace. And Spirit always shows up with love.“Sometimes the message isn’t what they expect. But it’s always what they need.”Effie doesn’t chase dramatic validations. She opens her heart, listens, and lets Spirit guide. The result? Deep healing, not theatrics.🫂 Finding Your Community After LossWhen you awaken after loss, you often look around and realize: my old circles don’t understand me anymore.This is natural. And painful.But it’s also the sign that your soul is evolving. Effie encourages those on the path to seek out aligned spaces. Join development circles. Follow your curiosity. Say yes to intuition.You may feel “crazy” at first. But eventually, you’ll find people who see your gifts not as strange—but as sacred.If you’re feeling that pull, consider this community a soft landing.We’re building something safe, real, and welcoming at grief2growth.substack.com.🎧 Listen to the Full ConversationThere’s something powerful about hearing someone speak their truth aloud.🎙️ Watch the full episode with Effie Linke here:Let her words, energy, and wisdom guide you wherever you are on your journey.💬 Join the ConversationHave you experienced a spiritual awakening after loss?What part of Effie’s story resonated most with you?👇 Drop a comment below—we’d love to hear your story.👥 Or join our Substack chat and connect with others on the path.🔗 📝 Key Takeaways* Loss can be a powerful trigger for spiritual awakening.* You don’t have to be raised spiritual to experience intuition.* Mediumship is not about performance—it’s about presence and growth.* You’re not broken if you feel alone—many do in the early stages of awakening.* Spirit communicates to heal, not to impress.✨ Final ThoughtsEffie’s journey is a mirror for many of us who find ourselves cracked open by loss.Her story is a testament to what’s possible when we stop fighting the calling of the soul—and start listening.You don’t have to label yourself a medium.You don’t need to “believe” everything all at once.But if you’ve felt the nudge… the sign… the stirring—trust it.Your spiritual awakening after loss is valid. And it’s only just beginning.✅ If you loved this article, please share it.✅ I’d love to hear your thoughts. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

“I was on an AM frequency, and everyone else was on FM. Until I met her.” – Hannah RumseyWhat happens when the person who made you feel most seen in the world is suddenly gone,and no one seems to understand why you’re hurting?Grieving the loss of a friend is a form of grief that remains largely invisible in our society. It doesn’t come with formal rituals, time off work, or even the same sympathy we offer for other types of loss. But as writer and podcaster Hannah Rumsey shared in our conversation on Grief 2 Growth, the pain of losing a friend can be just as deep, just as transformative, and just as worthy of being acknowledged.In this article, I’m sharing Hannah’s powerful story—alongside my own reflections on friend loss—to honor the love we have for those who walked beside us as chosen family.🧊 A Silent Kind of GriefWhen my friend Mike died just a few months ago, I found myself feeling a different kind of grief than I had experienced when my daughter passed. It was real. It was raw. But something was missing from the response of those around me.That something was acknowledgment.Hannah Rumsey knows that feeling intimately. After losing her close friend Lauren in 2015, Hannah realized the world often doesn’t know what to do when you’re grieving a friend. People don’t know what to say—or worse, they say the wrong things.Friend grief is quiet. It’s not less painful. It’s just less understood.🏛️ Why Friend Grief Is So Hard to Talk AboutWe live in a culture that ranks grief.We know how to respond to the death of a parent, spouse, or child. But when it comes to friends? There’s no playbook. Most employers don’t even offer bereavement leave for the death of a friend. You’re expected to move on in a matter of days, sometimes hours.This is what’s called disenfranchised grief—a loss that society doesn’t fully recognize. And it creates a second wound on top of the first: the pain of loss, compounded by isolation and invisibility.Hannah’s friend Lauren died suddenly while studying abroad. And the world around her didn’t seem to pause. “I took two days off work and went right back,” Hannah said. “Because I didn’t know what else to do.”☀️ Hannah’s Story: 42 Days of SummerHannah and Lauren met at a summer camp in 2009. It was only six weeks—but it was the kind of connection that leaves a permanent imprint on your soul.“I describe it as more words and tears and laughter flowed through me that summer in six weeks than they normally would in a year.”Lauren brought joy in its purest form. She was goofy, spontaneous, and unfiltered in the best way. Hannah felt safe to be herself around her.“I just came alive around her.”Even after camp, their friendship continued long-distance, filled with Skype calls, letters, and deep emotional resonance. They were planning to reconnect in person after college.They thought they had a lifetime.📰 Finding Out Through FacebookIn July of 2015, Lauren was celebrating her birthday while studying in Spain. Hannah posted a “happy birthday” message to her wall, then began scrolling—only to find post after post that said “rest in peace.”“That was how I found out she had died.”Lauren had fallen from a balcony. The news was in articles Hannah could barely process. “Your brain just doesn’t compute. At first, I felt nothing. Then it hit me—I fell to the ground screaming.”This is how some people learn their best friend has died.This is why we need to talk more about this kind of grief.🔪 The Small Cuts That Compound GriefYou might expect the people around you to rally after a loss. But for Hannah, like many others who’ve lost a friend, the responses she received often added to the pain.“A coworker said, ‘You probably won’t think about her much one day.’ And I was shaking.”Another person questioned if Lauren had really meant that much to her. “I didn’t even know about this friend,” they said. As if grief needed proof.This is the reality for many who are grieving the loss of a friend. There’s no validation. No place to put your pain. And over time, that invisibility erodes your ability to trust yourself.💞 The World Minimizes Platonic LoveWhy does society treat friendship like it’s less than?There’s a hierarchy of relationships, and romantic partners often sit at the top. But platonic love is often just as transformative—sometimes more so.“I feel like the world undervalues love, period. And especially platonic love.”Hannah makes a powerful case for treating friendships as real, deep, and worthy of grieving. The bond she shared with Lauren shaped her identity. “She helped me access a part of myself I was struggling to reach.”Friendships can be soul-level connections. We need to stop pretending they’re disposable.🎭 Turning Grief Into Art: 42 Days of SummerIn 2020, Hannah created a one-woman show called 42 Days of Summer about her friendship with Lauren and the grief that followed. At first, she could barely get through a five-minute story. But over time, she built it into a full performance.“More than anything, I needed my grief to be witnessed.”Storytelling became her way of healing—and honoring Lauren.Later, Hannah launched the podcast Friends Missing Friends, a safe space for others who are grieving friends. Her mission is to normalize this kind of grief and help people feel seen.📱 Signs from the Other SideNot all grief stories end in silence.Hannah shared a powerful moment when she believes Lauren communicated with her—through her phone.“I was on a train on New Year’s Eve, thinking about her. My phone started buzzing like Morse code. No notifications. Just buzzing. I asked, ‘Lauren, is that you?’ and it buzzed again.”They had what felt like a real-time back-and-forth. When Hannah got off the train, she whispered, “Don’t leave me.” The phone buzzed three times. In her mind, she heard the words:“I’m still here.”Whether you believe in signs or not, stories like these remind us: love continues. Even across the veil.💬 What to Say to Someone Grieving a FriendIf someone in your life has lost a friend, here’s how you can support them:✅ Say their name.✅ Ask what their friend was like.✅ Acknowledge their pain.And most of all—don’t diminish the loss. Don’t ask how close they were. Don’t compare it to other types of grief.As Hannah says:“I want to talk about her. I want you to ask me about Lauren.”🧍‍♂️ Brian’s Reflections: Chosen Family is RealAfter my daughter passed, I watched her friends experience their own grief. They had no label for it. No framework. But it was real.Recently, I lost my own friend Mike. He was one of six couples in a group we call “framily”—friends who became like family. His absence has shaken all of us.There’s an old saying: “Blood is thicker than water.”But the full version is:“The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.”The people we choose to walk with in life are just as sacred.🧠 Rewriting the Story of GriefOne of the most beautiful moments in our conversation was when Hannah shared how she found an old letter she had written Lauren, buried at the bottom of a box.Her first thought?“She must not have read it. Maybe it didn’t mean much to her.”But later, she reframed it:“Our friendship was so alive and present, she didn’t need to reread the letter. She already knew.”This is the power of rewriting the story. The facts didn’t change. But the perspective did. And with that shift came healing.💌 Final Thoughts: Your Grief Is RealIf you’ve ever lost a friend and wondered:* “Do I have the right to grieve this much?”* “Why doesn’t anyone understand?”* “Will I ever stop missing them?”The answer is: yes, your grief is real. Yes, your love was real. And no, you don’t have to justify it.You are not alone.🗣️ Join the Conversation📬 Comment below — Did you lose a friend? What helped you cope?👥 Join our community on Substack🔁 Share this article with someone who’s grieving“You don’t need permission to miss someone. You just need space to remember them.” – Brian D. Smith This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

“Maybe God took my child because I strayed.”That sentence was whispered to me through tears during a recent session.I’ve changed the details to protect her privacy, but the ache behind those words?It’s heartbreakingly real.And far too common.My client had lost a child, an infant, only a few months old.Unimaginable pain.The kind of grief that tears open the structure of your souland asks every question you’ve ever had about why anything happens the way it does.She’d grown up in a strict Catholic church.A place where God was described as lovingbut also angry.Holy, but punitive.Always watching. Always waiting.Waiting for that one unconfessed sin to pounce on you.Sometimes that message was subtle.But often, it was overt:Good people get rewarded. Sinners get punished.But over the years, she’d found her own spiritual path —one that felt more loving, more intuitive, more rooted in connection than fear.She felt held.She still lit candles.She still prayed.She still felt the presence of God.But she no longer walked the path she was raised on.And thenthe unthinkable happened.Her child passed.Some time later, as so often happens, a friend reached out.A well-meaning friend. Probably uncomfortable with grief, mystery, and ambiguity.And the friend said:“You need to get back to Jesus.”Now, on the surface, that might sound like concern.But beneath it, that comment planted a seed of judgment.It took her right back to those days in Sunday school.Back to the trauma so many of us absorbed when we were too young to protect ourselves.And like trauma does, it echoed forward.Unprocessed emotions never really leave.They wait.She said:“Maybe I’m being punished.Maybe I caused this loss by stepping away from God.Maybe my child died because I failed, and God took her from me.”And I have to tell youmy heart broke with her.Because this…This is what happens when theology is built on fear.What kind of God would punish you by taking your child?Let’s stop and really sit with that question.Let’s assume, just for a moment, that you had made mistakes.Let’s assume that you had “sinned.”What kind of God would respond…by taking the life of someone you love?What kind of justice is that?It’s not justice.It’s cruelty.And cruelty is not divine.To believe in that kind of Godis to live in a universe where love is conditionaland suffering is always deserved.That’s not faith.That’s spiritual fear dressed up as doctrine.The deeper lie: That death is a punishmentThis grief, this spiral, it all hangs on a deeper lie:That death is a punishment.But what if it’s not?What if death isn’t a punishmentbut a passage?What if it isn’t a sentencebut a continuation?What if the soul knows what it’s doing?Many spiritual traditions, even within Christianity, hold this truth:We are eternal.This life is a chapter, not the whole book.And the ones we lose, especially childrenare not lost to us forever.They are closer than we know.They’ve just gone home before we have.And if we truly understood what waits for us on the other side,we would never fear deathand we would certainly never confuse it with punishment.We wouldn’t say “God took someone.”We’d say, “They went. They went home.”And we’d trust that where they went, they are held.If we really understood what death is capital punishment would be abolished immediately.We wouldn’t weaponize the afterlife to control or scare anyone.We wouldn’t confuse loss with judgment.And we would never again look into the eyes of a grieving parent and say:“This happened because you strayed.”We don’t own our children. We accompany them.It’s so natural to feel like our children belong to us.We say things like “my son,” “my daughter.”We say, “I brought you into this world.”And yes, we carried them.We fed them.We loved them in the most physical, visceral ways.Their lives touched our bodies.Their cries woke us in the night.Of course, we feel like they came from us.But the deeper truth is this:Our children don’t come from us.They come through us.We are the portal.The steward.The witness.But not the owner.Each soul has its own path.Its own timing, purpose, lessons, and legacy.And while our journeys overlap, they are not the same.Their birth was not our decision.Their death is not our fault.Even in loss, even in heartbreak,their path remains theirs.It is sacred.It is completeeven if unbearably brief.Even if it was only for a few months, as in the case of my client.Or fifty years.Or eighty.This is hard to acceptespecially when we’re desperate to find a reason.That’s what humans do. We reach for certainty.And that’s when old ideas start to come rushing in.Those old theologies that say,“This happened because you did something wrong.God is punishing you.”But those are fear’s answersnot love’s.That’s a trauma response, not spiritual truth.Because here’s the real truth:No spiritual offense, no infidelity, no wandering,no “wrong” belief could ever override the soul’s plan.Not yours.Not theirs.You didn’t make them leave.They left because their journey here was done.And now, they continue elsewhere.“I brought you into this world…”When I was a kid, I loved Bill Cosby.And there’s an old joke of his that always got a laugh:“I brought you into this world, and I can take you out.”We laughed.But underneath that laugh is a cultural wound.That joke is rooted in a false belief that parents create their children,and therefore have dominion over them.It’s the same belief that makes us feel guilty when we lose them.It implies: If I brought them in, maybe I did something that made them leave.But that’s not how soul paths work.You are not the author of your child’s destiny.You are not the gatekeeper of their fate.And you are not the reason they died.You’re not omnipotent.You’re not omniscient.You’re not omnipresent.You can’t know everything.You can’t be everywhere.And you don’t have all power.You are not powerful enough to have ended your child’s life through your sins.What you are what you’ve always beena temporary companion on their journey.A sacred escort through part of their soul’s evolution.You are not the creator.You are not the controller.You are not the cause.When we try to carry the weight of their deathas if it’s ours to bear,we confuse biology with divinity.But our power is limited.And honestly? That’s a mercy.Because it means this:We can grieve without guilt.We can remember without shame.We can light candles without wondering if we’re to blame.Let’s tell a different story.Imagine this:Your soul and your child’s soul knew each other before this life.They chose you.You chose them.And you both knew — your time might be brief.But it would be powerful.Sacred.Transformative.I remember when my girls were four and seven,long before any religious teachings had reached them.They sat at the kitchen table talking to each otherremembering being in heaven.They remembered choosing us as their parents.I didn’t teach them that.I hadn’t even learned that yet.But something in their souls knew.So imagine a God who doesn’t count sinsbut holds space for every heartbreak.A God who doesn’t take but receives.A God who doesn’t punish your pathbut walks beside you wherever you go.Because this is true:Love does not punish.Love does not take.Love holds.Love honors.Love stays.In closing, I want you to ask this:What kind of God would punish you by taking your child?What kind of sense does that make?And if you sit with that honestly…I think you’ll feel the answer:It doesn’t make any sense at all.So maybe there are better questions to ask:✨ What kind of love still remains?✨ What kind of connection outlives the physical?✨ And what kind of God meets you here in the ache,in the ritual,in the mystery of the unknown?Loved this? Here’s how to help—30 seconds total:* Share this post with one friend or group → * Subscribe for future posts & tools → * Tip to support my grief-to-growth work → 🕊️ P.S. Releasing Guilt Is PossibleIf this episode stirred something in you — especially around guilt, shame, or self-blame — I created a guided meditation to help you begin releasing those heavy emotions.It’s called “Release Guilt & Embrace Peace”, and it’s designed to meet you where you are, gently and compassionately.You can access it here:👉 You don’t have to carry this alone.You are not being punished.You are being held. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

What if your anxiety, grief, or sense that something is off… is actually a signal that you’re awakening?In this time of global upheaval, many of us are asking big questions:* Who am I, really?* What’s happening to the world?* Is there a higher purpose to this pain?In this compelling conversation, I sat down again with Rafael Garcia — spiritual teacher, multidimensional traveler, and near-death experiencer — to explore the massive shift we’re undergoing both personally and collectively.If you’re navigating loss, confusion, or an inner stirring that won’t go away, this is for you.A World in Crisis or a Planet in Transition?It’s no secret: our systems are breaking down. Institutions we once trusted feel hollow. The Earth itself seems to be reacting. Nothing feels like it’s working.But what if all of this is not a collapse, but a birth?Rafael believes that humanity is going through a collective spiritual awakening — a shift from a fear-based, 3D reality to a more connected, conscious way of being.“This isn’t the end,” Rafael told me. “It’s the end of an old game. And the beginning of who we’re really here to be.”It’s easy to feel overwhelmed. However, when we view this moment through the lens of awakening, grief becomes a catalyst for growth. Fear becomes fuel. And the breakdown becomes a breakthrough.The Near-Death Experience That Opened the DoorRafael didn’t always speak like this. He was a high-achieving entrepreneur, working long hours and chasing external success — until a near-death experience shattered everything.He flatlined. And in those moments outside of time, he encountered beings of light, entered the Akashic Records, and remembered who he truly was — beyond the body, beyond this life.“It wasn’t just about one past life,” he said. “I saw how my soul was living multiple lives at once.”This experience was mystical. But it also reprogrammed him at every level. He returned with clarity, compassion, and a burning desire to help others awaken.Living Parallel Lives: Time, Soul & the Multidimensional SelfOne of the most mind-stretching — and empowering — ideas Rafael shared is this: you’re not just one version of yourself.Your soul is vast. You may be living other lifetimes right now — across time, dimensions, or even on other worlds.“We think of time as linear. But your higher self is experiencing everything at once. You’re drawing wisdom from other lives — whether you realize it or not.”Why does this matter?Because it means you’re never alone. You have more support, more inner knowing, and more purpose than you may realize. Those guides you’re reaching out for include other versions of you. It’s a mind-blowing concept, but one I encounter repeatedly.Your awakening isn’t random. It’s part of a much bigger plan.The New Human: Activating Dormant DNARafael believes many of us are part of what he calls the “New Human” prototype.What does that mean?It means our physical and energetic systems are evolving. We’re activating dormant DNA, expanding our intuitive abilities, and shedding generations of inherited fear.“You’re not broken — you’re upgrading. The pain you’re feeling? That’s your old programming being cleared.”This is where grief and awakening intersect. Losing a loved one, a belief, or a former identity can feel devastating. But it also opens the heart and soul to something greater. You may wonder if and when you’ll return to the person you were before. The answer is you probably won’t. You’ll become something new.Earth’s Shift to 5D: Ending the Old GameYou may have heard of the “3D to 5D” shift — but what does that mean? I asked Rafael.3D consciousness is rooted in separation, fear, scarcity, and control. It’s the world of competition, judgment, and ego.5D consciousness is based on unity, love, abundance, and truth. It’s not about floating away from reality — it’s about embodying your higher self in your everyday life.Rafael believes we’re currently in a planetary transition, and the old systems are resisting. That’s why it feels chaotic.But here’s the hope:“We’ve already won,” he said. “Light has anchored. Now it’s about choosing where you want to focus.”That’s a powerful reminder — even when the headlines scream otherwise.Grief As a Portal to AwakeningThis is where our missions meet.I’ve long believed that grief is one of the fastest paths to spiritual growth — not because it’s easy, but because it strips us down to what matters.When we lose someone we love, we begin to ask:* Where did they go?* Who am I without them?* What happens after this life?These questions crack open the ego and make space for the soul to speak.Rafael affirmed this:“Grief is not a punishment. It’s an initiation.”Whether you’ve lost a loved one or feel like you’re losing your mind in this changing world, you’re not breaking down. You’re waking up.Can AI Help Us Evolve Spiritually?This part surprised me. Rafael doesn’t fear AI — at least not in the way many do.He sees artificial intelligence as a mirror. One that will force humanity to grow — or get left behind.“AI will expose everything. It will make truth impossible to hide. That’s painful — but it’s how we evolve.”He sees a future where transparency, integrity, and spiritual maturity are the only way forward. And AI might accelerate that process.Not by replacing us — but by reminding us of what makes us human.A Message to Lightworkers, Starseeds & Awakening SoulsIf you’ve always felt “different”…If you’ve struggled with grief, anxiety, or disconnection…If you feel like you came here for something big — but can’t quite name it…This is for you.“You’re not broken. You’re early,” Rafael said. “You came to hold a new frequency. That’s why it’s been so hard.”This message touched me deeply. So many people in this audience feel isolated. But the truth is: you’re part of a wave of souls who came to help earth evolve.You’re not alone. You’re right on time.✨ Key Takeaways* Spiritual awakening is not a trend — it’s a global transition* Rafael’s near-death experience revealed we live parallel lives* Humanity is evolving into a higher consciousness species* Grief is not an end — it’s a portal to the soul* Even AI has a role in our spiritual future* You are here on purpose, even if you don’t fully remember why💬 Join the ConversationWhat part of this conversation sparked something in you?Have you experienced signs of your own awakening — or challenges that cracked you open?📢 Help Spread the LightIf this article helped you see your journey differently, please consider:✅ Sharing it with someone who’s awakening✅ Reposting it on social media with your insights✅ Subscribing for more conversations like this✅ Commenting below to add your voice to the communityYou’re not behind. You’re awakening. And you’re exactly where you need to be.Until next time, This is a public episode. 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Is There Proof of the Afterlife? What if death isn’t the end?What if our loved ones aren’t truly gone?And what if understanding that could soften the sharp edges of your grief?If you’re new here, welcome. I’m glad you’re here. I want to start by sharing something foundational to my work: the question of whether there is life after death. After four decades of studying this subject—across science, philosophy, direct experience, and testimony—I can say this with confidence:There is more to this life than meets the eye. And once you understand that, it can transform the way you grieve, live, and love.This isn’t meant to be an exhaustive proof; just some things to think about. If you stick with me, there’s a lot more where this came from.Four Ways We Can Know Something Is RealBefore we dive into the evidence, let’s talk about how we know anything is real. Generally, we rely on four pathways:* Direct personal experience* Scientific study and empirical research* Testimony from others* Logical or philosophical reasoningWhen you apply these four lenses to the question of the afterlife, an astonishing body of evidence emerges.1. Direct Experience: The Evidence You Can FeelMost of us haven’t died and come back, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t encountered the afterlife.People experience the afterlife in ways that are deeply personal, often beyond words:* After-death communications (ADCs): These include dream visits, signs, and synchronicities. They often arrive when we least expect them but most need them.* Shared death experiences (SDEs): In these rare but powerful events, a living person partially “crosses over” with someone who is dying. The living person often sees or senses the journey of the one passing, sometimes even traveling part of the way with them.* Near-death experiences (NDEs): These are more well-known. People who have technically died—flatlined, clinically gone—return with detailed stories of life beyond, often accompanied by a complete transformation in how they view life and death.Want to explore this further? Look into the work of Lisa Jones and William Peters. Peters, in particular, is a leading researcher and experiencer of shared death experiences, and his work is eye-opening.2. Scientific Evidence: What the Research Really SaysMany scientists shy away from studying the afterlife. The reasons? Cultural taboos. Materialist bias. Limitations of instruments.And yet, the evidence exists:* Near-death experiences (NDEs): Researchers like Dr. Bruce Greyson and PMH Atwater have studied thousands of cases. Some are veridical—meaning people report accurate information they could not have accessed through normal means (e.g., conversations occurring in other rooms while the person was clinically dead).* Reincarnation in children: Dr. Ian Stevenson and Dr. Jim Tucker at the University of Virginia have documented thousands of cases where children remember past lives with uncanny detail. Some recall being historical figures, down to names, dates, and relationships they could not have otherwise known. Books like The Boy Who Knew Too Much dive deep into these cases.* Mediumship under lab conditions: Dr. Gary Schwartz and Dr. Julie Beischel have studied mediums under controlled settings. In double- and even triple-blind studies, mediums have conveyed accurate, detailed information that defies chance.* Technology-assisted communication: Dr. Gary Schwartz is working on the “Soul Phone,” a device designed to enable communication across dimensions. Sonia Rinaldi has made groundbreaking strides in instrumental transcommunication, using technology to capture images and voices of the departed.* Scientific refutation of skeptics: Dr. Penny Sartori has extensively countered materialist explanations for NDEs, like the idea that they’re simply brain reactions to dying. Her work dismantles those arguments one by one.If you think science can’t touch the spiritual, these researchers will make you think again.3. Testimony: The Sheer Volume of ExperienceSome people dismiss individual stories as anecdotal or emotionally biased. But let’s look at the scale:* It’s estimated that 5-10% of the population has had a near-death experience. That’s 30 to 50 million people in the U.S. alone.* Countless others have had ADCs, SDEs, and profound signs that defy logic.* These experiences are cross-cultural, reported by people from every background, religion, and belief system.And here’s the key: when people return from these experiences, they don’t just feel better. They come back changed. They lose their fear of death. They become more loving, more compassionate. They see life with new eyes.That kind of transformation doesn’t come from a dream or a hallucination.So when someone says, “I saw my father in a dream and knew he was okay,” we shouldn’t dismiss it. We should listen. Because those stories, repeated across millions of voices, carry weight.4. Philosophical Insight: What If We’ve Got It Backward?Modern Western thought is grounded in materialism—the idea that consciousness is a product of the brain. But more and more philosophers and scientists are challenging that.Dr. Bernardo Kastrup, for example, champions Idealism: the idea that consciousness is fundamental, and that the physical world arises from it, not the other way around.If that’s true, then we are not our bodies. We are consciousness having a physical experience. We came from somewhere before birth, and we will return to somewhere after death.In this view, life doesn’t lead to death. Life is a temporary stop within a greater continuum.Instead of calling it the “afterlife,” maybe we should call this life the in-between.For a deep dive into this logic, check out Why an Afterlife Obviously Exists by Jens Amberts. It unpacks near-death experiences through the lens of airtight logic.What Does This Mean for You?If you’re grieving, I want you to know this: Your love is not lost. Your connection is not severed. Death ends a life, not a relationship.You don’t have to believe everything at once. You don’t even have to understand it all. Just begin by staying open. Let curiosity replace fear. Let wonder soften your grief.There is more to this story than we’ve been taught. And that story can change everything.A Gift to Support YouIf you’re navigating loss, I created a free resource for you: GEMS: 4 Steps to Move from Grief to Joy.These are the four practices that helped me after the death of my daughter. They won’t erase your pain, but they can help you begin to breathe again.👉 Download GEMS for free hereFinal ThoughtIf you’ve ever felt a nudge that your loved one was near...If you’ve ever had a dream so vivid it stayed with you for years...If you’ve ever wondered whether death is really the end...You’re not alone. And you’re not crazy.There is more to this life—and the next—than we’ve been told.Welcome to the journey. This is a public episode. 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When you lose your only sibling, it doesn’t just break your heart — it shatters your sense of self.Sibling loss is a grief that often goes unacknowledged. Parents lose a child. Spouses lose a partner. But siblings? They’re expected to be strong, to support others, and to move on.For Deb Strebel, the death of her 15-year-old brother Lee was not just a personal tragedy. It became the catalyst for a life-altering transformation — one that would lead her to found Lee Alexander & Co., a custom memorial jewelry company dedicated to helping others carry their loved ones with them, forever.In this interview with Grief 2 Growth host Brian Smith, Deb shares her story of unimaginable loss, healing through therapy and creativity, and building a business that honors grief through beauty, legacy, and love.The Overlooked Pain of Sibling Loss“I remember sitting alone at the table during a memorial event,” Deb said. “Everyone was talking about my brother, my parents, their loss… but no one even mentioned that Lee had a sister.”That one moment crystallized something she’d already begun to feel in her bones: sibling grief is often invisible.When someone loses a child, a spouse, or a parent, communities tend to rally around them. But siblings often get overlooked. They’re assumed to be “okay” or “secondary” mourners — when in fact, they’ve lost not just a family member, but often their lifelong companion, mirror, and memory-keeper.“Suddenly, I went from being a big sister to an only child,” Deb explained. “And that’s not just a label — it changes your entire identity.”She wasn’t just mourning Lee. She was mourning the future they’d never get to share: family holidays, inside jokes, and watching each other grow older.“Sibling loss grief isn’t talked about enough,” she said. “And yet, it changes you forever.”The Shock of Sudden LossDeb was 18 years old and attending college locally when she received the call that would forever divide her life into “before” and “after.”“I was in the library, and suddenly I felt this chill — like, to my core,” she recalled. “It was so strange, I even asked my friend if the temperature had dropped.”An hour later, she got a voicemail from the police. Something had happened to her brother, and she needed to get to the hospital immediately.“I just knew,” Deb said. “I didn’t know how, but I knew he was gone.”Lee, a vibrant 15-year-old sophomore involved in theater and improv, had collapsed during class. The cause was myocarditis — a rare viral infection of the heart that can strike suddenly and fatally, even in otherwise healthy teenagers.“I had never even thought about death before,” Deb said. “No one I knew had died. And suddenly, my little brother — the person I grew up with, fought with, loved — was just gone.”The suddenness of it all created a sense of unreality. “Is this really my life?” she asked herself. “How could this possibly be my story?”Trauma, Therapy, and the Turning PointGrief didn’t show up in a straight line for Deb. It came as panic attacks, intrusive thoughts, and overwhelming fear.“I became obsessed with the idea that something terrible would happen again,” she said. “I didn’t feel safe in the world anymore.”Deb’s trauma responses were physical as well as emotional. She experienced health issues that seemed to come out of nowhere. “I didn’t know that grief could make you sick,” she said. “But it did. My body was reacting to trauma I couldn’t process.”Her family encouraged her to go to therapy, but her first experience didn’t go well.“The therapist told me, ‘Sometimes we’ll cry together.’ I remember thinking, I’m here so YOU don’t cry. I’m not here to comfort you.”Eventually, she found a better fit — a trauma-informed therapist who introduced her to EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing).“EMDR helped me process the most traumatic image I had — seeing my dad’s face through the hospital window. It was like I could finally breathe again,” she said.This turning point allowed her to begin healing not just mentally, but spiritually and emotionally. It also set the stage for something she never expected: a new sense of purpose.A New Purpose Is BornDeb’s parents owned a successful wealth management firm and had long hoped she would take over the business.“I worked there through college,” she said. “But I just couldn’t see myself doing financial planning. I didn’t love the technical side. It wasn’t my passion.”After Lee’s death, Deb realized she needed something that felt deeply meaningful. And she was already wearing her inspiration around her neck — literally.“I had bought one of those low-cost memorial necklaces online,” she said. “But it tarnished in the hot tub. The ashes were ruined.”Heartbroken, Deb worked with a local jeweler to create a more durable, beautiful piece — one that could truly honor her brother.That experience planted a seed.“I thought, There have to be other people who want something beautiful and lasting. Something worthy of their loved one’s memory.”Soon, Lee Alexander & Co. was born — a name that keeps Lee’s memory alive in every customer interaction, every shipment, and every heartfelt thank-you call.Behind the Scenes at Lee Alexander & Co.Lee Alexander & Co. is more than just a jewelry brand. It’s a deeply personal, lovingly crafted, and enduring memorial experience. The jewelry is intended to last for generations.Here’s how it works:* Choose Your Design: Every piece is made to order. Customers can select a pre-designed piece or request a custom creation.* Receive Your Kit: The company sends a collection kit with instructions and prepaid shipping.* Send a Small Sample: A tiny amount of ashes, hair, fabric, or even sand is sent back for inclusion in the jewelry.* Personalization Options: Customers can add initials, symbols, or meaningful stones (not just birthstones — Deb encourages picking what feels right).* Sealed With Intention: Each chamber is sealed using a laser welder to permanently protect its contents.* Delivered With Care: Finished pieces are shipped with any unused material and full insurance.“We only use materials like 14k or 18k gold and platinum,” Deb explains. “These aren’t trinkets. These are heirlooms.”Customers often come back years later to say they still wear their piece daily — and that it’s helped them feel close to someone they thought they’d never feel near again.Grief, Legacy & ConnectionDeb’s customers aren’t just clients — they’re grieving people in search of connection.She recalls one woman who burst into tears on the phone after receiving her custom ring. “She said she finally felt some relief. That she didn’t realize how much she needed something like this until she had it,” Deb recalled.Many clients create jewelry not just for themselves, but for their families. Parents who’ve lost a child. Spouses honoring their partners. Siblings, like Deb, keeping the bond alive.“Legacy isn’t just about what someone leaves behind,” Deb says. “It’s about what we continue to carry — and create — in their name.”Her own ring features an aquamarine stone — not because it’s Lee’s birthstone, but because they both loved the ocean.“I tell people, pick what reminds you of your loved one. Forget the rules. Make it yours.”A Message for the GrievingIf you’ve lost a sibling, Deb wants you to know this: You matter. Your grief matters.You are not just a support system for your parents. You’re not expected to “get over it” faster than others. Your bond was real, and your loss is profound.“Give yourself grace,” she says. “There’s no right way to grieve — but there is support, and there is healing.”Deb also encourages grieving people to not settle for the wrong kind of help. A mismatched therapist can be worse than none at all. Keep looking. Keep asking. The right person — and the right tools — can make a difference.Carrying Love ForwardToday, nearly 20 years after Lee’s passing, Deb has helped hundreds of families hold onto what matters most — their memories, their love, and their connection.She believes we all have the power to create legacy in unexpected ways.“At 15, Lee had no idea he’d have this kind of impact,” she said. “But here we are — helping others carry their loved ones close. And he’s a part of every single one of those stories.”💬 Share Your StoryHave you lost a sibling or created something meaningful in a loved one’s memory?We’d love to hear from you.👉 Join the conversation right here:🔗 Explore Lee Alexander & Co.✨ Ready to create a timeless piece that keeps your loved one close?Visit leealexanderandco.com💌 Email Deb: [email protected]📸 Instagram: @leealexanderandco📌 Key Takeaways* Sibling loss grief is often misunderstood but deeply life-altering.* EMDR therapy can be a powerful tool for processing trauma.* Grief can be transformed into purpose and creativity.* Memorial jewelry offers a way to carry love forward — beautifully and tangibly.* There’s no “right way” to grieve — but support and connection make all the difference.Thanks for reading Grief 2 Growth! This post is public, so feel free to share it. This is a public episode. 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What happens when life cracks you open overnight?For Allura Halliwell, it wasn’t a choice. She was a stay-at-home mom of three, exhausted from holding her family together, when she attended a meditation retreat in Australia. She wasn’t looking for enlightenment—she was looking for rest. But one morning on the beach, her consciousness left her body and merged into light itself.It was the beginning of a spontaneous spiritual awakening—one that would take her seven years to fully integrate.In this article, based on our conversation on the Grief 2 Growth podcast, we’ll explore:* What a spontaneous spiritual awakening is (and how it differs from a near-death experience)* Why integration is often harder than the awakening itself* The hidden wounds that keep us stuck in loops of suffering* Why pain is not the enemy—it’s the portal to liberation* How emotional sovereignty can change the way we love and relate* Practical steps to begin your own healing journey todayWhat Is a Spontaneous Spiritual Awakening?Many people hear the term “spiritual awakening” and imagine a peaceful process—a slow unfolding after years of meditation, prayer, or therapy. But sometimes, awakening happens without preparation, without warning, and without asking.This is what we call a spontaneous spiritual awakening.Unlike a near-death experience (NDE), which is triggered by trauma to the body, a spontaneous awakening can happen in ordinary circumstances. For Allura, it began as a simple walk on the beach. Moments later, she was lying in the sand, her body still, while her consciousness soared beyond it.Such experiences often share features with NDEs: leaving the body, moving through light, merging with Source, feeling unconditional love. But because there’s no medical event to explain them, they can be even harder to understand—and harder to talk about.From Body to Source: Allura’s ExperienceAs Allura described, she first felt her body tremble as if pulled magnetically to the earth. She lay down on the sand, and then—suddenly—she was looking at her own body from outside of it.Her awareness rose higher and higher. She saw the world as energy. Then she merged into the brightest, purest light, feeling peace, completion, and relief. From there, she entered a void: an infinite, spacious darkness, beyond identity, beyond thought.Eventually, her consciousness dropped into unconditional love, and she felt herself drawn back to Earth. She saw her body below and re-entered it, opening her eyes after an hour and a half that changed everything.The Aftermath: Integration Is the Hardest PartThe awakening itself was awe-inspiring. But returning was devastating.When Allura opened her eyes, she couldn’t see solid reality. Everything shimmered as energy. Her body shook with what she later understood as a Kundalini awakening. She lost her sense of identity. Foods she once loved meant nothing. She looked at her children and husband and felt no familiarity. Even her mother mourned her as if she had died.And in a sense, she had.Integration took years. The joy of Source was replaced by confusion, grief, and isolation. Without guides who understood spontaneous awakening, she often felt like a ghost in her own life.This mirrors research from the International Association for Near-Death Studies (IANDS), which finds that it often takes 7–14 years to integrate a major spiritual experience. Allura’s seven-year cycle echoes that pattern.Core Wounds: Unloved, Unworthy, UnknownWhy does awakening shatter us so deeply? Allura believes it exposes the fractures already within us.Her upcoming book, Unloved, Unworthy, Unknown, names the three core wounds most humans carry:* Unloved → the belief that we are not worthy of love as we are* Unworthy → the belief that we are not enough, that we must prove ourselves* Unknown → the belief that we are unseen, misunderstood, or unsafe in the worldThese wounds are templates. They shape our relationships, drive our need for external validation, and keep us looping in suffering. Therapy, journaling, or even spiritual practices may touch the surface—but unless these wounds are integrated, we remain stuck.To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.The Consciousness MethodTo address these wounds, Allura created The Consciousness Method.This is not about manifesting more things into your life. Manifestation often begins with lack: I want this because I don’t feel complete. The Consciousness Method turns that on its head. It focuses on completing yourself internally—healing your nervous system, facing your pain, and reclaiming your wholeness.From there, life naturally realigns. Relationships improve. Opportunities appear. Joy returns. Not because you forced them, but because your inner reality shifted.Emotional Sovereignty and the Relationship RewireOne of Allura’s key teachings is emotional sovereignty.Instead of relying on others to make you feel safe, loved, or understood, you learn to create those conditions within yourself. This doesn’t mean isolating or withdrawing. It means no longer being dependent on someone else’s behavior for your inner peace.From this foundation, relationships transform. In her Relationship Rewire work, Allura shows that healing your inner template rewires how you interact with everyone—partners, children, parents, friends. Labels like “narcissist” dissolve when we see the wounded survival patterns underneath. And sometimes, as she described, even long-strained relationships blossom into closeness once inner healing occurs.The Pain Portal — Liberation Through FeelingPerhaps Allura’s most powerful insight is what she calls the Pain Portal.We spend much of life avoiding pain. We distract ourselves, numb ourselves, or blame others for triggering us. But avoidance only creates suffering.The real breakthrough comes when we feel pain directly in the body, without attaching to the story. For example, instead of reliving memories of abandonment, notice the sensation in your chest. Breathe into it. Expand it. Let it move.By doing so, you release the energy trapped in the body. You liberate the consciousness stored in that pain. What once kept you in loops becomes the very key to freedom.“All humans fear their own pain,” Allura said. “But when you change your relationship to pain, you don’t have to fear anything.”Dying to Self — Spiritual RebirthAllura describes awakening as a process of dying to self.This doesn’t mean physical death. It means letting the limited version of yourself dissolve—the one shaped by fear, wounds, and nervous system limits. On the other side is a rebirth into sovereignty, expansion, and love.This teaching echoes ancient wisdom. In Christianity, Jesus said, “You must be born again.” Mystical traditions worldwide describe ego death and rebirth. Allura lived it in real time, and her story reminds us: rebirth is possible now. We don’t have to wait for death to be free.A First Step for YouYou don’t need a dramatic awakening to begin your own healing. Start with five minutes today:* Close your eyes.* Find one sensation in your body—maybe a tightness in the chest or heaviness in the stomach.* Instead of going to the story behind it, just feel it.* Breathe. Expand the sensation. Let it move through you.This small act builds capacity. Over time, it changes your relationship with pain. And as Allura teaches, pain is not punishment—it’s the portal to freedom.Connect and Go DeeperIf Allura’s story resonates with you, you can explore more of her work:* Website: allurahalliwell.com* Instagram: @allurahalliwell* Facebook: Allura Halliwell* Podcast: The Consciousness Method* Book: Unloved, Unworthy, Unknown (preorder info coming soon via her mailing list)And if you’d like to continue the conversation, I’d love to hear your comments.ConclusionA spontaneous spiritual awakening is breathtaking—but it’s also disorienting, lonely, and demanding. Allura Halliwell’s journey shows us that the real work begins after the light fades: in the years of integration, in the courage to face pain, in the choice to become emotionally sovereign.Her story reminds us that pain is not the enemy. It is the seed. When we allow ourselves to feel, we grow into the wholeness we were always meant to be.And so, if you are grieving, stuck, or longing for more, remember: you don’t have to fear pain. Within it lies your rebirth.Don’t keep it to yourself. Share this post with someone who will benefit from it. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

🔮 When Healing Doesn’t Come Through WordsMost of us try to heal by talking it out. We go to therapy. We journal. We meditate. But what if true healing could begin in silence—without effort, thought, or words?This is the path Eva Mueller took. A mother, spiritual teacher, and founder of NextElevations.com, Eva hit a breaking point in 2020. What came next wasn't collapse—it was awakening. In just three years, she experienced multiple spiritual openings, including what she calls the "Absolute," or Unity Consciousness.In this episode of Grief 2 Growth, Eva shares how energy transmissions for healing bypass the mind and go directly to the root of trauma, grief, and ancestral pain.If you’re navigating deep sorrow, emotional numbness, or spiritual stagnation—this story might offer a new kind of hope.🌿 What Are Energy Transmissions for Healing?Energy transmissions are subtle, yet powerful waves of healing energy—shared non-verbally by someone in a heightened state of consciousness.Unlike talk therapy or visualization-based practices, energy transmissions don't require you to “do” anything. You simply receive.According to Eva, these transmissions:* Move beyond language and the mind* Activate the body’s innate healing capacity* Create an energetic resonance that can unlock stuck emotions“It’s not about teaching your mind something new. It’s about meeting your being where it already is—beyond pain, beyond story, beyond identity.” – Eva MuellerThis type of healing may be especially supportive for those who can’t find words for their grief—or feel like traditional methods aren’t working.🔥 Burnout, Breakdown, and Eva’s BreakthroughEva had been spiritually curious for years, but the real awakening began when life as she knew it stopped working. Emotionally overwhelmed, physically exhausted, and carrying both personal and ancestral grief, she found herself at the edge.“I was pushing and pushing,” Eva shares, “until I couldn’t anymore. There was this moment of complete collapse—and that’s when something deeper took over.”In that stillness, she experienced her first energetic opening. It wasn’t flashy or dramatic—it was quiet. She felt an overwhelming peace, a presence she'd never accessed before.That was the beginning of a radical transformation.✨ The Awakening Process: What It Feels LikeOver the next 3.5 years, Eva underwent multiple awakenings. These weren’t just mental shifts—they were full-body, soul-level experiences.One of the most profound was an encounter with Unity Consciousness. In that state, Eva describes:* A complete dissolution of ego and identity* Feeling merged with the universe* A knowing that everything—including pain—is divine“The ‘I’ dropped away. There was no Eva. There was only presence. Only what is.” – Eva MuellerIt’s hard to describe in words. But many people report similar states during energy healing, deep meditation, or near-death experiences.🧬 Healing Emotional and Ancestral TraumaEva’s awakening didn’t just clear her mind—it unearthed buried grief and generational pain.“Some of what I was carrying wasn’t even mine,” she says. “It was ancestral. Old survival patterns. Old grief.”Energy transmissions helped Eva release these patterns without needing to relive the trauma. The energy simply moved through her—clearing, purifying, integrating.For many in grief, this can be a revelation:💡 You don’t always have to understand your pain to begin healing it.👶 Conscious Motherhood as a Spiritual PathMotherhood became another unexpected catalyst.“When you’re raising a child, every wound comes up,” Eva laughs. “You can’t avoid your triggers.”But instead of seeing these moments as setbacks, she used them as opportunities for awakening. Each meltdown, sleepless night, or inner resistance became an invitation to come back to stillness.She began parenting from presence—not from her past.And in doing so, she gave her child something powerful: a mother who’s present, grounded, and healing in real time.🔕 The Power of Silence and PresenceA key part of Eva’s message is that healing often begins in silence—not in trying to fix ourselves.“There’s something deeper than the pain,” she says. “There’s this eternal presence. The more you rest in that, the more the pain starts to dissolve on its own.”This isn’t bypassing. It’s being.Most people live from thought. From effort. From identity.But Eva now lives from beingness. From silence. From that still space behind the noise.And she teaches others how to access that space through her energy transmissions.🧘‍♂️ Why Meditation Isn’t Always EnoughMany of us try to “think” our way into peace. We meditate. We journal. We affirm.But according to Eva, this only goes so far.“Meditation is beautiful,” she says. “But if your trauma is stored in your body—and you’re trying to fix it with your mind—it might not go anywhere.”That’s where energy transmissions come in.They bypass the thinking mind entirely, creating a direct energetic resonance. It’s like tuning a radio to a different frequency—you suddenly experience peace, not just think about it.This can accelerate healing in a way that feels effortless, yet deeply transformational.🌐 The Birth of NextElevations.comAs Eva continued her journey, she felt called to help others—but not in the traditional way.She didn’t want to become a coach or therapist.She wanted to transmit presence.So she created NextElevations.com—a platform offering 24/7 energy transmissions for healing, growth, and awakening.Members can tune in at any time to receive energetic support. No appointments. No effort. Just energy—constantly flowing.She calls it energetic nourishment for the soul.🌀 Guided Energy Transmission (Listen Now)At the end of the episode, Eva offers listeners a live energy transmission.You don’t need to do anything. Just listen. Feel. Receive.Many report feeling:* A deep stillness or calm* Emotional release or clarity* Physical sensations like tingling or warmth* A sense of “home” they can’t explainIf you're curious but skeptical—that's okay. As Eva says:“You don’t need to believe. You just need to be open.”🎧 Listen to the episode here and scroll to the final 10 minutes to experience it yourself.🧠 Key Takeaways“Energy transmissions are like medicine for the soul. They meet you where language can’t.” – Eva Mueller“You don’t always have to understand your grief. You just need to let it move through you.” – Eva Mueller“When we stop trying to fix ourselves, we find we were never broken.” – Eva Mueller🤝 Join the Grief 2 Growth CommunityIf this episode resonated with you, we invite you to join our community:It’s a space for conscious healing, spiritual growth, and heartfelt connection—especially for those navigating grief or spiritual transformation.You’re not alone. Others are awakening, just like you.Let’s grow together. 🌱 This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

Recording this from Mykonos, Greece, as our ship pulls into port on what should have been a podcast release day. Instead, I'm taking a break—and sharing something more personal.If you know anything about me, you know I don't like vacations. Especially long vacations. Especially vacations that take me far from home. I come to you today from Mykonos, Greece, 5,500 miles away from home, seven time zones ahead. What?!When my wife Tywana and our friend Tom started planning a Mediterranean adventure over a year ago—three days in Venice followed by a seven-day Greek isle cruise—I'll be honest: I was hoping the day would never come. I said yes because, well, September 2025 would never come.But here I am, sitting in Mykonos, Greece, on Tuesday, September 9th, watching the beautiful hillsides rise up from the Ionian Sea. We pulled into port in the dark. When I woke this morning, I opened the curtains to see the lights of Mykonos. It feels surreal, and I need to tell you how we got here—and why this journey has changed everything I thought I knew about taking breaks.The Unlikely TravelersI'm here with six of my dearest friends, including Tywana. These aren't casual acquaintances—these are people I've known for at least a decade, most for over twenty years. We've lived life together. We've weathered challenges, celebrated birthdays, attended funerals, and rung in New Years. We're all over 60 now, the youngest being 61, with me bringing up the rear at 64. We’ve had parties. We’ve had funerals.We're a group that has faced real adversity, as have all senior citizens. Among us are people who have overcome life-threatening illnesses, someone who has lived with Type 1 diabetes for over 50 years with all its complications, and those of us dealing with significant losses.But there's one story that makes this trip particularly meaningful.Lisa's CourageFive months and two days ago, our dear friend Mike passed away suddenly. Mike was 59, just three weeks from turning 60. He was supposed to be on this cruise with us. Instead, his wife Lisa faced an impossible decision: cancel the trip or somehow find the strength to come without him. Yesterday was the five month anniversary of his passing.Lisa chose to come. But here's what makes her decision even more remarkable: the day after Mike's heart attack, Lisa had one too. So yesterday—as we explored the Greek islands together—marked the five-month anniversary of Lisa's heart attack.Today is also another anniversary: it would have been Lisa and Mike's 30th wedding anniversary. They celebrated their first anniversary in Athens— our destination for tomorrow.The ClimbYesterday, my wife and I decided to tackle the famous steps of Santorini—587 steps rising about 300 feet above the sea. What they don't tell you is that these aren't regular steps. They're only a few inches high but spaced about three yards apart, creating an irregular challenging climb.Tywana made this climb five years after double knee replacement surgery. I made it despite my own physical limitations as a 64-year-old. But when we reached the top and looked back, there was Lisa and her son, Nick. Lisa had made the entire climb just months after her heart attack.Metaphorically and physically, what a climb we've all made just to be here.The vertical climb of the steps of Santorini, specifically the Karavolades Stairs connecting the Old Port to Fira, is approximately 400 meters (about 1,312 feet). The staircase consists of 588 steep and uneven steps that ascend this height from sea level to the town of Fira on the cliffs of Santorini48 Hours of FreedomWhen we pulled out of port last Saturday, the plan was to spend a littles than 48 hours at sea. I have to admit, I kind of freaked out. I'm slightly agoraphobic and claustrophobic, and the thought of being somewhere I couldn't escape for two full days was terrifying. By the time we boarded, I'd already been away from home for four days—farther than I'd ever been—and we were heading even further into unfamiliar time zones.But something unexpected happened during those 48+ hours without touching land. I didn't hate it. I didn't even dislike it.I spent time with my friends, watched shows, enjoyed incredible food and drinks, and simply had a great time. For the first time, I understood what people mean when they say "it's about the journey, not the destination." I've always been a destination guy, always moving from place to place, trying to get to the next thing. But this experience taught me to slow down and be present.Taking the BreakToday was supposed to be podcast release day. I had everything prepared to launch the interview I had recorded before leaving—most of the work done, so I could finish up on my laptop while traveling. But you know what? I decided not to do that. I'm taking a break. We all deserve breaks, and I'm finally learning to take mine.Normally, by this point in any vacation, I'd be itchy to get home. But I'm genuinely enjoying this time. We still have four more days—stops in Athens and Split, Croatia—and for once, I'm not rushing toward the end.The Bigger PictureAs I look at our group, I see people who have overcome tremendous challenges. Lisa is here with her son Nick, carrying Mike's memory with her but refusing to let grief stop her from living. Mike is here with us in spirit—we love him, we celebrate him, and we're honoring his memory by embracing this journey together.This group is bound for life. We're friends for life.It's Never Too LateI'm not a traveler. At 64, I'm definitely a homebody. But I'm enjoying this trip tremendously, even though I complained about it for the entire year leading up to departure. It's never too late to surprise yourself, to discover new joys, to embrace experiences that initially make you uncomfortable.Sitting here in Mykonos, I'm reminded that our time here on the planet is short. I spent some time alone with Lisa a couple of days ago, on the ship. It's natural to think about what we don't have—that's human nature. But whether we have a minute, five minutes, five years, fifteen years, thirty years, or fifty-nine years on this planet, whether we've been with someone for a short time or for thirty-five years like Tywana and I have been—it's all a blessing. Mike is the kindest, gentlest soul I’ve ever known, and we are all fortunate to have had him in our lives, no matter how long or short that was.No matter how long or short our time here, the most important thing is to enjoy the ride.The LessonI'll be back with regular episodes soon, but today I wanted to share this experience with you. Sometimes the journeys we resist most are the ones that teach us the most. Sometimes taking a break isn't just okay, it's necessary. And sometimes the best way to honor those we've lost is to keep living fully, to keep climbing those steps, to keep embracing the journey even when, especially when, it scares us.Grab life and take everything out of it. The ride is shorter than we think, but that makes every moment more precious.What are your thoughts? Have you ever taken a journey that changed your perspective? I'd love to hear from you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

Introduction: When Grief Doesn’t WaitWhat do you do when your world comes crashing down—not once, but three times in six weeks?In 2022, Betsy Stephenson’s son Charlie transitioned into spirit at age 21, just eleven weeks after first expressing thoughts of self-harm. In that same devastating season, Betsy’s mother-in-law passed from dementia, and their beloved family dog Bear died of cancer.Most people would crumble under that weight.But Betsy did something bold. She didn’t wait until the grief settled. She started writing from the depths of her wound. That writing eventually became her book:Blackbird: A Mother’s Reflection on Loss, Grief, and Life After SuicideIn this episode of Grief 2 Growth, host Brian Smith speaks with Betsy about grieving after a child’s suicide, surviving overwhelming loss, and staying spiritually connected with those who have transitioned.💬 “You have to tell yourself a story you can live with.” — BetsyThis is her story. But parts of it might also be yours.Feel free to share this with someone who could use it.1. Charlie’s Light: A Life Still ShiningCharlie wasn’t the loudest person in the room. But he was often the most grounded.As the youngest of three, he had a calm, watchful presence from an early age. He was the kind of friend people turned to when they were struggling—the safe space, the listener, the steady rock.Charlie made people feel seen.💬 “He was the guy people went to when they needed someone who would just sit with them.”He had a dry, quick sense of humor that would catch you off guard. And even though he was quiet, he wasn’t shy. Charlie drew people in with presence, not volume.To this day, Betsy speaks about him in the present tense. And not out of denial—but because Charlie is still here. His presence lives on in conversation, memory, and love.2. When the Unthinkable HappensCharlie’s transition into spirit wasn’t something the family saw coming—at least not right away.He had never shown signs of depression or anxiety growing up. But something began to shift during his junior year of college, a couple of years after the pandemic began. He started feeling unmotivated, anxious, and low.One day, Betsy got a call from one of Charlie’s friends. He had expressed suicidal thoughts.Betsy dropped everything and flew to Texas. She stayed in a hotel near campus, sat with him, supported him, and helped him get back into therapy. They worked together to create a safety plan and ensure he had the support he needed.💬 “He was crying. He hadn’t cried since he was little. He was vulnerable, and I thought we were turning a corner.”Charlie had future plans—he was going on a trip with friends, had a job lined up, and was continuing school. Things seemed hopeful.And then, eleven weeks later, he was gone.3. The Unique Weight of Suicide GriefGrieving after a child’s suicide brings with it a very particular kind of pain.There’s shock, sorrow—and often, a profound guilt.💬 “I don’t hold myself fully responsible. But as a mom, I can’t quite let myself off the hook.”Brian gently reminds listeners: suicide is not something that love alone can prevent. But that doesn’t stop the flood of questions:“What if I’d done more?”“What if I had made him come home?”“What if I had just said the right thing?”Betsy doesn’t suppress those questions. She lets them come. She follows them to their end—not to punish herself, but to understand.Eventually, she realized most of them don’t have answers.4. Grieving Through the Wound, Not the ScarBetsy’s publisher advised her to wait before writing. The common wisdom is to “write from your scar, not from your wound.”But Betsy couldn’t wait.She needed to write while the grief was fresh, raw, and present. She needed to make sense of the chaos through language, even if that language was full of pain.💬 “I wanted to write the book I needed but couldn’t find.”She found that many grief books were either memoirs written from years in the future—or clinical texts by therapists and experts.What she needed was someone in the mess. Someone whose wound was still open. Someone who wasn’t okay.And so she wrote Blackbird.5. Three Transitions in Six WeeksCharlie’s transition wasn’t the only one.During the same six-week stretch, Betsy’s mother-in-law, who had been in memory care, began declining rapidly and passed shortly after Charlie’s funeral.Three weeks later, their dog Bear collapsed and passed outside of Charlie’s bedroom.💬 “You can’t tell me that wasn’t a sign. That wasn’t a message.”Betsy speaks about Bear’s death not just as the loss of a pet, but as a spiritual punctuation mark in a season of release.The grief was layered. And it wasn’t linear. But it gave Betsy a new devotion to understanding the nature of transition, both physical and spiritual.6. Relearning How to FunctionAfter so much pain, Betsy shut down.She stopped going out. She only visited three places. She needed support even to do everyday things.Grief had stripped her identity, her motivation, and even her sense of self.💬 “I wasn’t interested in the world. I wasn’t curious. Everything died with Charlie.”And yet, little by little, she began reclaiming her life.First with therapy. Then with writing. Eventually, she began reaching out again. She started initiating things—dinner with friends, walks, connections.She didn’t feel “healed.” But she felt capable.That was enough.7. Keeping Charlie’s Spirit AliveOne of the most powerful moments in the interview comes when Brian observes that Betsy refers to Charlie in the present tense.Her reply?💬 “Because he’s still here.”Charlie’s memory isn’t just preserved in scrapbooks or anniversary posts. He’s part of everyday conversations.“We’ll say, ‘Charlie would’ve loved this’ or ‘I wonder what he would’ve said about that.’” His sisters talk about him. His friends still reach out.He lives through them.And that is spirit work—the daily, conscious act of remembering.8. What Her Book Is Doing for OthersBetsy didn’t write Blackbird for closure. She wrote it because she didn’t want to hide.Now, people are reading it and saying:“Me too.”“Now I understand what my friend is going through.”“I thought I was the only one.”💬 “That feedback keeps me going.”The book doesn’t try to fix anyone. It doesn’t offer neat answers. It offers company.And sometimes, being witnessed is what heals us most.9. The Universal Nature of GriefAt some point in grief, we look up and see the world again.Betsy describes going out into public, still reeling from Charlie’s transition, and realizing:Everyone here has—or will—experience this.Grief is universal. And yet, it’s also deeply personal.💬 “Everyone has to tell their own story. My husband’s story is different than mine. So are Charlie’s sisters’. But we respect that.”There is no one way to grieve. There is no checklist. There’s only honesty, presence, and space.10. The Story You Can Live WithIf there’s one message Betsy leaves us with, it’s this:“You have to tell yourself a story you can live with.”Not a sugar-coated version. Not one that pleases others. One that keeps you breathing.Whether you’re grieving after a child’s suicide, after a sudden illness, or after the slow decline of a loved one—you need a story that honors your truth and gives you the strength to keep living.Grief 2 Growth is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.🌿 Final ThoughtsBetsy’s story isn’t about getting over grief.It’s about walking through it, broken but brave, and saying: “I’m still here.”Whether you're grieving a child, a parent, a partner, or a beloved pet, know this:* Your pain is valid.* Your grief has no expiration date.* And your story—no matter how messy—matters.💬 “You’re not doing grief wrong. You’re doing it your way.”🕊️ Join the Conversation💬 What story are you telling yourself in your grief?Come share it with us at grief2growth.com/community🔗 Resources* 📘 Buy Blackbird by Betsy Thiebaud Stephenson: https://blackbirdbetsy.com* 📸 Follow Betsy on Instagram: @blackbirdbetsy21* 🎧 Listen to the full episode on Grief 2 Growth PodcastI know there are a lot of newsletters you can support, and subscription fatigue is real. If you’d like to leave a one-time donation instead of subscribing, it would be very much appreciated. Click the image below to leave a tip. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe

What do you do when your life changes forever—and not in the way you hoped?Weston Brandon was just 23 years old when he experienced a devastating tragedy. His wife, Lauren, passed away just days after giving birth to their son, Vance. Overnight, Weston became a grieving young widower and a single father to a newborn. But what could have broken him ended up transforming him.This article isn’t just about Weston’s story—it’s a guide for anyone asking the question:👉 How do I rebuild my life after loss?If you’re in the middle of heartbreak, spiritual doubt, or soul-deep fatigue… you’re not alone. And there is a way through.To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.The Day Everything Changed: Losing LaurenWeston and Lauren were young and full of dreams. They married in Vegas, lived adventurously, and soon prepared to welcome their first child. But after their son was born prematurely and admitted to the NICU, tragedy struck. Lauren suffered a sudden pulmonary embolism and died in the hospital."I was 23 with a newborn. My life was upside down."In one moment, Weston’s life split in two—before Lauren’s death, and after.The grief was crushing. The fear was paralyzing. And yet, a tiny infant depended on him to keep going.Faith and Fury: Facing God in the ICUIn the days following Lauren’s passing, Weston didn’t just grieve—he raged.“I was angry with God, but I never stopped talking to Him.”Lying in the ICU, Weston opened a Bible he had barely touched in years. His eyes landed on a verse about resurrection. In that moment, something shifted. He didn't understand the loss—but he felt that it wasn’t the end.This was the first thread in a new spiritual journey. Not one of blind faith, but one of wrestling, rebuilding, and rediscovering a God who could sit with him in the darkest valley.Fatherhood in the Aftermath of LossWeston had to learn how to parent in the midst of sorrow.The diapers. The feedings. The middle-of-the-night cries.All of it was hard. And yet, every small moment became sacred. He saw Lauren in Vance’s eyes. He felt her presence as he read to his son, held him close, and whispered her name.There were days he felt like he was barely surviving. But over time, he realized: survival was step one. Healing could come next.Signs from the Other SideWeston began noticing things. Subtle signs. Dreams. Impressions. Moments of clarity and peace that felt more like visits than memories.“There were things I couldn’t explain. Lauren was still with us—just differently.”These spiritual signs gave Weston comfort and direction. They weren’t “proof” in a scientific sense. But to a grieving husband and father, they were everything.Reopening to Love: Meeting KearsleyAs the fog of early grief lifted, Weston began dating again. But it wasn’t easy. The guilt. The fear. The unspoken question—Was it too soon?Then, he met Kearsley.Their first date was ordinary—until Weston felt Lauren’s presence afterward. He knew she approved.Kearsley didn’t just fall in love with Weston. She opened her heart to Vance, too. She didn’t try to replace Lauren—she honored her.“She became a mother to a child who already had one in Heaven.”Their love story is a rare, courageous blending of past and future—grief and growth.From Pain to Purpose: The D.R.I.V.E. FrameworkYears later, Weston felt a new calling—to help others going through massive life disruption. He didn’t want to preach. He wanted to guide. And so, he created the D.R.I.V.E. framework.It’s a roadmap for transformation, built on the exact steps Weston took to rebuild his life after loss.Here’s how it works:D — Discover: Who You Really AreAfter loss, it’s tempting to just move on. But healing starts by going in.Weston urges people to examine their inner programming—childhood wounds, subconscious beliefs, and survival mechanisms. You can’t rebuild a broken life if the foundation is still cracked.Self-discovery isn’t comfortable. But it’s the beginning of growth.R — Resolve: Clean Up the PastUnresolved pain becomes invisible weight. To move forward, Weston had to forgive himself, release shame, and confront grief honestly.This is where many get stuck. But Weston says:“You don’t get over it. You get through it—with intention.”Whether it’s therapy, prayer, journaling, or coaching—healing requires resolution.I — Invest: In Yourself and Your HealingTime, energy, faith, and attention—these are your most valuable currencies. And Weston believes you must spend them on yourself first.He invested in coaches, books, and community. Not because he was broken, but because he was worth it.You are too.V — Visualize: The Life You Want to LiveVisualization isn’t fluff—it’s fuel. Weston teaches people to imagine the version of themselves who has already healed, loved again, found purpose.What do they look like? Sound like? Believe?That version of you is waiting. And the act of visualizing it helps bring it to life.E — Elevate: Others Through Your GrowthWeston’s transformation didn’t end with personal healing. He began using his story to help others—especially men—navigate their own losses and life upheavals.He became a coach, a speaker, and an author.“Growth isn’t complete until it lifts someone else.”Helping others became the final step in Weston’s own rebuild.Gratitude: The Secret IngredientOne of Weston’s most powerful revelations?“Gratitude is the most magnetic emotion.”Even in grief, there were moments of grace. A baby’s laugh. A good night’s sleep. A friend who showed up.He didn’t wait for healing to be grateful. Gratitude helped create the healing.Science backs this up. Studies show gratitude rewires your brain, boosts resilience, and even improves physical health.In Weston’s life, it became his compass.The Overhaul: Turning Story into ServiceWeston poured his journey and framework into a book called The Overhaul: Fixing Your Mindset & Driving Success.It’s not just about grief. It’s about any disruption—divorce, job loss, health crises—and how to come back from it stronger than before.In it, Weston shares:* His personal journey of loss and recovery* The full D.R.I.V.E. framework* Exercises and reflection prompts* Faith-based encouragement and practical strategy👉 You can learn more or get the book at www.westonbrandon.comFinal Thoughts: You’re Not Starting Over. You’re Starting Different.Grief doesn’t end. But it does evolve.If you’ve lost someone, your life will never be the same. But that doesn’t mean it can’t still be full of joy, love, and purpose.Like Weston, you don’t have to “move on.” You can move forward—with intention. You can heal without forgetting. You can grow without guilt.You are not broken.You are being rebuilt.💬 Join the ConversationWhat does rebuilding your life after loss look like for you?We invite you to share your thoughts and connect with others who understand:📌 Key Takeaways* Sudden loss can be the start of spiritual and emotional awakening* Grief and gratitude can coexist* Faith isn’t about having all the answers—it’s about staying in the conversation* Rebuilding is possible with intention, support, and inner work* Your pain can become purpose—if you’re willing to grow through itMore Resources🎙️ Listen to Weston’s full interview above or watch on YouTube📘 Get The Overhaul👉 https://www.westonbrandon.com🧠 Need help applying D.R.I.V.E. in your own life?👉 Contact Weston for coaching or speaking at his websiteSharing is CaringShare this episode with someone who needs it.I know there are a lot of newsletters you can support, and subscription fatigue is real. If you’d like to leave a one-time donation instead of subscribing, it would be very much appreciated. Click the image below to leave a tip. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit grief2growth.substack.com/subscribe