Ritual as a Bridge Between the Living and the Lost

Yesterday, I held space for a full-day grief ritual, and it left me deeply moved.

It reminded me of something I know to be true but so often forget:

Grief doesn’t end. It just changes form.

Sometimes, even years after someone has died,

you uncover a new layer of emotion.

A memory you hadn’t let yourself feel.

A sadness that surprises you with its sharpness.

And when we haven’t made space to honour our grief —

when it gets buried under busy days or brushed aside by the world’s discomfort —

it can feel like we’ve drifted from ourselves.

Or from the person we lost.

We want grief to be tidy. Predictable.

But it isn’t.

Grief is complex.

It holds joy and sorrow at once.

It softens, and then stings.

It shows up in unexpected ways.

What I witnessed yesterday was the quiet, powerful beauty of ritual —

how it allows us to sit with our grief, without fixing or rushing it.

To notice what’s here.

To reconnect with the one we miss, in ways that feel nourishing and true.

Because even though someone has died,

we often still want to share our lives with them.

To tell them what’s happening.

To feel their presence.

Ritual makes that possible.

It doesn’t erase the pain.

But it makes space for it.

It honours the love behind the grief — and gently reminds us

that this love can still be part of our lives.

And that, to me, is sacred.

If you’re longing for that kind of space,

you’re always welcome here.

Into Full Bloom Coaching