Grief feels like desperately wanting to go home, but you can’t.
It’s the ache of something just beyond reach—like if you tried hard enough, you could stretch through time and space to touch the person, the place, the moment that’s gone. But no matter how far you reach, it slips through your fingers.
It’s the deep longing for something that cannot return. A craving for the impossible connection.
Grief is powerlessness. A brutal, unrelenting reminder that some things can’t be fixed, undone, or made right. It’s the understanding—truly feeling—that life doesn’t come with guarantees, that it’s fragile, and that loss changes us in ways we never agreed to.
And yet, somehow, we keep going. Not because we’ve “moved on” or “let go,” but because we carry love with us, even when it hurts. Even in grief, we are still here, still breathing, still finding our way through.
I have days when I desperately want to be next to my lake again, to see Superior’s shores and feel her presence, to have those big windows overlooking Madeline Island.
I often think to myself, “I will never have that again.” And while I won’t have it in the same way, that’s okay. We all have the power within us to create something new. That shift in mindset is where healing begins, but it takes a few years to get there.
Some days I have a ridiculous phrase in my head, “If I keep looking in the rearview mirror, I’m going to crash into something.” The same applies to holding on to a past that won’t return. It’s healthy to grieve, but eventually, we must look forward and reimagine our lives. Otherwise, we risk hurting ourselves in the process. This process is painfully slow, like I talk about in the Onion of Grief, but it is necessary.
If you are ready to move forward, how do you reimagine what your life looks like?
Because I never want to throw an essay out there without giving you actionable steps, here are 3 questions you can ask yourself about reimagining your life after a loss (death or otherwise). Get a journal, write or type them out, and then set them aside for a day or so, and come back later. Make sure to drink water afterwords, as many of you in my readings and seminars have heard me say over and over.
What parts of my life feel out of alignment with who I am now, and what can I do to bring more of my true self into this new reality?
After a loss, our sense of self can shift dramatically. This question helps identify areas where you may need to shed old expectations or routines and create space for new, more authentic expressions of yourself.
What small actions or changes can I take today to honor both my grief and my desire for growth?
Balancing grief with the desire for new beginnings can feel overwhelming. This question encourages you to take baby steps—small actions that respect your pain but also start to build the foundation for the life you’re moving into.
Who or what do I need to embrace (or release) in order to step into the next chapter of my life with intention and peace?
Reimagining life after loss often involves letting go of attachments that no longer serve you and embracing new sources of joy, connection, or purpose. This question prompts reflection on both emotional and practical steps you can take to find peace and purpose moving forward.
I hope these questions help you start to reframe a new outlook. If you are interested in working with me as a grief and change coach to delve into them deeper, send me an email. I’d love to talk! Info@hshcommunications.com