Why time isn’t enough to heal grief

(TW: Child loss.)

On Wednesday morning, my friend’s precious teenage daughter didn’t wake up.

I imagine it started like any other day—their family stirring for breakfast and morning routines before the scurry to school.

Until their world shattered. Until their daughter was found unresponsive in bed, lost quietly during the night.

When loss like this strikes, it touches more than one family. It sends a shockwave through their entire village—the friends, neighbors, teammates, teachers, the people who knew and loved her, and those who love the ones who loved her.

Grief does that. Its energy ripples through the collective, reminding us all that life is so fragile, and that love always leaves an imprint.

We’ve all met grief; no one escapes it.

I first felt it when I lost my mom in college. And then again when we lost our third child, Hayes, to stillbirth at nearly full term just four years ago. These are the kinds of losses that split you in half.

When grief hits, the world feels like it slows to a crawl. You walk through fog. You forget to eat. You can’t sleep or you sleep too much. You disassociate from your body. You obsess over the “what ifs.” You cry until your ribs hurt.

Grief turns everything you thought you knew upside down. It makes you question life, God, your choices, and even your own body. And it hurts—sometimes for what feels like forever.

But eventually, the energy of grief shifts.

Not because the grief goes away, but because we grow around it. We develop the capacity to hold it without drowning in it.

In the early stages of loss, the nervous system is in survival mode. All energy is diverted to basic functioning. Your brain can’t process. Your body shuts down sensation. It’s nature’s way of protecting us from the full weight of heartbreak.

But eventually, when the casseroles stop coming and the to-do list clears… there’s space.

And in that space, we feel.

This is when many people start to fall apart — because in the stillness, the body remembers. The grief that had been held at bay starts to surface. And it can feel like knives penetrating the soul.

We now know through polyvagal theory and trauma studies that unprocessed grief can dysregulate the nervous system for years,  causing everything from chronic tension and fatigue to anxiety and numbness.

Time is not enough to heal grief. But when we create safety in the body through intentional, somatic practices, we allow the energy to move. To integrate. To release.

The energy of grief has a pattern, and healing is possible—even if you can’t imagine it right now.

I am living proof.

Friend, you don’t have to carry your grief alone. I invite you to schedule a 1:1 session or join a group gathering this June to begin moving the energy of grief gently, at your own pace. If finances are a barrier, please reach out. Your healing matters to me, your village, and the world. We’ll find a way.

In Love, Light, and healing,