I’m gonna say it. Grief is bullshit. Sorry if that offends anyone, but if you’re grieving, you know it’s true. One thing I’ve always promised to be in this work is authentic. My memoir has been called “raw” and “honest,” and that’s exactly what I strive to share with you here.
As we head into Thanksgiving week in the U.S., I know from my own experience—and from countless conversations with others—that the holidays can be brutal when you’re grieving. For the past few weeks, I’ve been laying the groundwork, sharing thoughts on preparing for the holidays, and creating a plan to soften the blow of those inevitable triggers.
Now, here’s the part that may seem strange: the very process of grief that feels like BS, like an endless weight, also holds the seeds of growth. And like anything worth harvesting, it requires time, patience, and yes—a whole lot of fertilizer.
Sowing the Seeds of Healing
When we think of a harvest, we often picture the rewards—the fruits of labor, abundance, a cornucopia, and gratitude. But to get there, we have to get our hands dirty. You can’t plant without breaking soil, and you can’t break soil without getting into the mess of it. In the world of grief, “fertilizer” isn’t just a metaphor; it’s the hard, uncomfortable emotions that we have to confront, sit with, and ultimately process.
Grief feels like a yoke on our shoulders. Yet, when we lean into the grief, when we allow ourselves to feel everything fully—even when it’s painful and raw—that’s when we’re sowing seeds for something new.
Preparing the Soil with PURPOSE
This is where the PURPOSE framework comes in. This isn’t about “getting over it”; it’s about tending to the ground and preparing ourselves for a future that looks different from the one we envisioned. Each step in the PURPOSE framework can be seen as part of the work required to cultivate something meaningful from our loss:
Perceive Reality: Acknowledging the full scope of what we’ve lost, not sugarcoating it, not minimizing it. Just like assessing a field before planting, we have to take a good, hard look at the soil of our grief and understand what we’re dealing with.
Unload Emotional Baggage: In farming, rocks and debris have to be cleared from the soil before planting. In grief, we need to do the emotional work of unloading pain, guilt, regret, and everything else that weighs on us. Clearing these things doesn’t mean we forget; it means we’re making room for something new.
Reach Out for Support: No one farms alone, and grief isn’t meant to be tackled solo, either. Seeking support—whether through friends, family, or a support group—can be like nourishing the soil, enriching it with what we need to keep going.
Probe for Personal Significance: Each loss carries a unique meaning and significance only we understand. Reflecting on what the loss means to us personally is like understanding the climate and conditions we’re working with. It helps us figure out what might grow best in this new reality.
Open a New Chapter: After the soil is prepared and the seeds are planted, we wait. A new chapter takes patience, just like waiting for crops to sprout. But over time, something starts to emerge—a hint of new life, new purpose, a new way forward.
Save Cherished Memories: Like preserving seeds from past harvests, we hold onto memories and moments that matter most. This part of grief is about creating space for cherished memories to stay with us, even as we move forward.
Embrace Personal Growth: Finally, there’s the harvest itself—those moments when we recognize we’ve grown through the process. The person we become after loss is shaped by the journey we’ve taken. This growth doesn’t erase the pain, but it allows us to live alongside it with a renewed sense of purpose.
The Harvest of Healing
Maybe you’re feeling like there’s nothing to celebrate and be thankful for this Thanksgiving. And that’s okay. When we’re grieving, gratitude isn’t always easy. But what I hope for you—and for myself—is that we find a way to see the work we’re doing as part of something greater. Maybe we’re not “there” yet. Maybe the harvest isn’t visible. But every moment we face our grief, every time we lean into the discomfort, we’re preparing the ground for something new to grow.
So if you’re feeling buried under the weight of grief, know that you’re not alone. Remember that things are happening beneath the surface. And someday, when you least expect it, you’ll start to see the first signs of something new springing up and reaching toward the sun—something that couldn’t have grown without the hard work, the mess, and the BS that is grief.
As you move through this season, give yourself grace. Be patient with your progress. Healing isn’t a straight line, and growth doesn’t happen overnight. But as we cultivate resilience through PURPOSE, we’re laying the groundwork for a future that holds something new—even if we can’t yet see what that is.
