Thank you for putting words to what so many of us have felt but haven’t known how to name.

This post is a mirror. A prayer.

I’ve spent 31 years in this industry, and I’ve known that ache you describe—the grief that pulls up a chair, uninvited but ever-present.

As you so beautifully paint, it lives in the shuttered spaces that once felt like home.

My heart aches in the deafening silence left behind by friends and mentors we’ve lost too soon.

And I still reach for meaning—and maybe some repair—for the dreams that were beautiful, all-consuming, and yet anything but sustainable.

Your words remind me that grief and love often ride tandem—two sides of the same coin, as Francis Weller says.

We keep showing up not because we’re naive, but because we still believe in the rare, beautiful alchemy this work allows: connection, presence, transformation.

Five years ago, I found myself deeply disoriented—abandoned, even—by the very work and community I’d given so much to. Since then, I’ve been slowly, carefully finding my way back to something more honest. A whole new way in.

I’m curious—what has helped you stay close to that spark?

What sustains you when the weight gets heavy?