Grief can feel so lonely. It certainly has for me. I buried my grief as a child. I ran from it for most of my life, but has been waiting for for me and now I'm trying to face it.

I find myself asking that question like, yeah, why did you leave? Yeah, why did you leave me? Yeah, why did you leave me?

There were three of us.

Suddenly, it was just like,

oh, I've never felt alone like this.

I've realized by suppressing my sadness over the losses in my life,

I've also suppressed my ability to feel joy, and I don't want to do that any longer.

The wound is the only route to the gift.

The grief and the loss is the only root to the vitality of being alive.

It's the longing, it's the admission of the pain.

It's the crying out, hey, I need you, what are you, I miss you so much?

And only in that absence, only in

really inhabiting that absence, being that little boy at the

bottom of that empty cave in vast darkness

and just kind of crying out that's the only moment that she comes.

The longing and the grief, fully inhabiting it and feeling

it is the only way I can really feel close to her again.

Join me for conversations about loss, love, and life.

All there is, season 3, begins October 9th.

Listen wherever you get your podcast.