Grief isn’t just about death. It’s what happens when life cracks open the world you once knew—whether through loss, divorce, disease, job loss, burnout, or the slow unraveling of what once felt steady.
A year ago, I lost my husband of 25 years. The ground beneath us shifted—suddenly and without warning. What followed wasn’t a single moment of grief, but a slow, quiet awakening to a new reality. The kind you don’t choose—but that changes you forever.
In the months that followed, I kept going. The birthdays. The graduation. The logistics of loss. I stayed busy. It wasn’t adrenaline—it was autopilot. I didn’t yet realize the weight I was carrying.
It wasn’t until I set some of it down—until the noise quieted—that I began to feel the toll in my body. The grief had settled into my muscles, my breath, my sleep. That’s when I turned back to my own framework: Living in Green.
🟢 Green is the state where we’re steady—calm, clear, grounded.
🟡 Yellow is when we’re tense, alert, and just trying to hold it all together.
🔴 Red is when we shut down—foggy, disconnected, drained.
When life breaks hard, we get pushed out of Green. And if we don’t notice, we try to function from Yellow or Red—and wonder why we feel so lost.
The real work of healing isn’t pretending to be okay. It’s noticing the state we’re in—and gently finding our way back to Green, again and again.
Sometimes that looks like rest. Or breath. Or letting someone in.
Sometimes it means allowing yourself to feel the ache—without rushing to fix it.
There is nothing wrong with being broken open.
There’s deep wisdom that emerges from healing the cracks.
Grief changed me. But it also clarified what matters.
Health. Relationships. Meaning.
When life falls apart—whether through a diagnosis, a layoff, a breakup, or a quiet collapse into burnout—these are the things that hold us together.
These are the things worth returning to.
If you’re in a season of grief or upheaval—whether from death, illness, divorce, job loss, or simply the weight of the world—know this:
You are not alone.
You are not broken.
You can emerge from this even stronger.
Come back to Green.
Come back to breath.
Come back to what matters.
Let the pain shape you—but not shrink you.
You are still here.
And slowly, gently, life will invite you to engage again.