I am a man of the past. Ever since I can remember I have enjoyed the things of the past. The architecture, paintings, books, clothing, movies, music and much of the style of decades long ago have been things I have embraced. This is not to say that I reject all current culture; I certainly don’t. Our modern age can bring good things too.
(818) 788-HOPE (4673)
Grief Support Groups Serving West Los Angeles, Encino and Agoura Hills
Grief Support Groups Serving West Los Angeles, Encino and Agoura Hills
Words can be so powerful and serve so many purposes — to communicate, teach, criticize, blame or humiliate. They can express clarity, empathy, compassion and… love. They can fill up a room (or your head) with chatter, clutter, negativity and noise. Whew… that noise can be deafening and exhausting.
We all remember falling in love. We all remember those wonderful feelings we experienced when we fell in love. And if we experience love again, later in life, we become reacquainted with feeling alive and exuberant, like the teenagers we once were. But falling in love can also be shocking when it happens after the loss of a beloved spouse and no…
We often speak of grief as a shadow, but in truth, it is more like a collapsed star. Though the immediate light of what we loved has vanished from view, its immense weight remains behind – an invisible, unyielding force sitting in the center of the house, moving from room to room, settling where you least expect it. We find ourselves caught in its orbital decay, circling a point that no longer exists in the physical realm. Our daily steps feel weighted down by a ghost gravity that dictates the trajectory of every morning. We remain tidally locked to the absence, perpetually showing the same cratered face to the dark.
“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing…” – C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed When your loved one dies, you are forced through a doorway and the door to the life you once knew…
Coming to my front door
Heaviness with each step
Fumbling for my key
Turning the latch
Unable to shake loose the day
Walking inside
He is there
Waiting
Enfolding me in his arms
His muscles firm against
My weakness
His cheek a pillow for my tears
My body leaning in
Swaths of warmth
Running down my spine
Tension loosening
Soothed by his strength
Skin to skin
Heart to soul
His touch
Melting my stress
I am home
When death takes our beloved, grief turns every moment into a challenge. Our pain can be unbearable. There is no quick fix to lift our pain. Part of our grief work is to get our inside thoughts and feelings expressed, acknowledged, mourned. Naming and claiming all we have lost can help us get through the days ahead.
One of our deepest losses that often goes unacknowledged is missing physical contact from our loved one — that soul touch that comes with a deep relationship. This is not about meeting sexual needs but about the needs of the heart. We don’t “get over” this loss but we can go on and even thrive. Understanding our touch needs helps us understand our wild feelings and increases our self-compassion.
When we are experiencing deep grief, our relationship with ourselves would ideally be gentle, kind, accepting. Yet that is often not the case as we bombard ourselves with expectations, overload, regrets, guilt and even shame. The presence of a negative inner companion can be our reality during times of trauma and sorrow.
This month we are beginning HOPE’s 2026 fundraising campaign. We sent a letter out to the HOPE community asking for angels to consider sending a contribution today to help give us the strength and the ability to build a better community.
Loss can shake you to the core, disrupting your sense of safety, security and identity. Every fiber in your body becomes sensitized. You may feel raw, your nerve-endings exposed, like you’ve lost a layer of protective skin. The relentless eddy of feelings, fears and anxieties create confusion and may leave you exhausted. You crave rest but find it hard to find peace. It is no wonder that even small, ordinary tasks can seem insurmountable or that invitations to be with others, too daunting. These experiences in early grief leave you feeling vulnerable, fragile, needing lots of care. Unfortunately, the person who would normally soothe and comfort you during such a distressing time is not there to help you through. That’s what makes spouse or partner loss such a uniquely painful and difficult journey.
Dear friends,
A teacher once said, “If you think you can wake up without breaking open, you’re mistaken.”
Growth is not polite.
Truth is not always gentle.
And transformation often hurts.
But it hurts like birth hurts.
Like muscles growing hurt.
Like a heart opening wider than it ever has before.
We don’t heal alone.
Even when we think we must.