There’s something powerful in remembering that we all breathe the same air. And that’s really what this latest episode of Grief Heals is about—the love we find when we step into our grief, especially collective grief.

Right now, there is so much division. So many lines drawn between “us” and “them.” And in that divide, grief is quietly doing its work—showing us what truly matters, revealing that we belong to each other.

In this episode, I share a story about a road trip, a broken-down truck, and a simple act of kindness that reminded me: Our people aren’t just family and friends. Our people are— people. Period. No matter where they’re from. No matter how different their lives may seem. We belong to each other.

To come together we must invest in loss. The loss of certainty and being “right” is painful, but only by investing in loss do we touch our genuine longing— longing for belonging, connection and love. Because grief isn’t just sorrow—it’s love in another form. And when we let ourselves invest in loss, we actually make room for healing, for growth, for deeper relationships.

For those of you working in social services, caregiving, or any role that serves others—this conversation is especially for you. The way we approach grief, the way we recognize our shared humanity, it changes how we show up for the people we serve. And, maybe more importantly, how we show up for ourselves.

So if you’ve been feeling the weight of division, the uncertainty of these times, or the personal aches of loss, this episode is an invitation—to breathe, to grieve, and to remember that love is still here, waiting to be seen.

Give it a listen, and if it resonates, share it with someone who might need it too

Reflecting on the death of his grandson, my friend shared this on facebook:

Two years have passed since Jan 4th, and yet the shadow of that redwood, mighty and indifferent, still looms over my heart as if it fell but yesterday. Aeon—his name an echo of eternity, his spirit a flicker of divine light—was taken by the same earth that cradled him. A boy so full of wonder and possibility, his laughter seemed to carry the whispers of angels, and his eyes bore a brightness that spoke of a world yet to be explored. How cruelly the tree, a symbol of life and strength, became the instrument of loss. Yet, even in this, there is something profoundly human—a mystery of suffering, a question directed at the heavens. Aeon’s absence leaves a silence that reverberates louder than words, a reminder that love endures beyond the grave, bearing witness to the unbearable and transforming it into something eternal.

Dan’s loss reverberates with the universal human experience of suffering. And speaks to my heart about the nature of true comfort.

What a contrast. The comfort he shares is so different than the notion we’ve absorbed, that comfort is solely about ease and convenience.

No! Dan’s words echo that true comfort is found in love’s endurance through all of life’s challenges and reaches beyond the grave.

At the heart of this episode is the unwavering belief in the transformative power of love, weaving through history and the struggles of marginalized voices who have fought for equity and justice, at great personal cost.

Love is the only force powerful enough to make a duet of wonder and grief ~ words from the poem, Adrift by Mark Nepo.

Perhaps isolation is an epidemic because we've been conditioned to think we are less than we are – that we and others don’t have the capacity to be with all that life brings.

Love, loss, pain, and joy are all part of the human experience. But we’ve absorbed a lie that we and others can’t handle the complexity of life. This leads to hiding emotions, which keeps us segregated from ourselves and others.

Isolation.

I found out Chip died at midnight. By 7:00 am, 9 women were at my door ready to support me however possible.

That afternoon, I could hear them huddled together, whispering. I yelled out, “Nothing about me without me!”.

They were trying to help, but didn’t recognize that talking without me sent the message that I wasn’t able to be with my own life and denied me the community I needed for this desperate time.

How have you experienced this in your own life - times when you or others have tried to "protect" someone from the full range of emotions?

What could it look like to embrace the complexity of life's joys and sorrows together?

What intimacy might this create?

Because…

“The way you see any individual in your mind is the best they can ever be in your presence.” - John Overdurf.

In this episode, I share more stories and metaphors of how I’ve seen and experienced John’s words.

Join the conversation on death, loss and grief as the Grief Heals substack: http://griefheals.substack.com