Dear Friends,
If we are very honest about life, it is one heartbreak after another. It is one loss after another.
We give birth to a beautiful child, and before we know it, they are leaving the nest and moving across the country. Despite changing their diaper a thousand times and feeding them every day, we might not hear from them for weeks or months or sometimes years.
A dear friend dies.
A client tells us they’re moving away.
A marriage ends.
A diagnosis arrives that changes everything.
Even the smallest losses can catch us off guard. The end of Summer. A favorite coffee shop is closing. The death of a Facebook friend we barely knew. Realizing our bodies don’t move quite the way they once did.
I was driving home today from my river spot wondering what to write about today when I heard actor and writer Will McCormack on Fresh Air, in conversation with his writing partner Rashida Jones about their new movie, The Invite (side note Esther Perel was a consultant for the script). He said something that stopped my mind: life is really “one loss and one heartbreak after another.”
Then he went further. Heartbreak, he said, is the thing that binds us… It’s the great connector.
No matter our politics, profession, culture, religion, or age, every one of us will experience loss. In those moments, we discover something universal; we are not alone.
As a therapist, you spend your life sitting with heartbreak.
You witness the grief of childhood wounds, betrayals, illness, divorce, addiction, death, and dreams that never came to be. Sometimes, after years of listening to these stories, it can be tempting to unconsciously protect yourself; to become a little numb and a little less vulnerable.
But perhaps the invitation of loss is the opposite.
Perhaps your own heartbreak is not an obstacle to being a good therapist. Perhaps it’s part of what allows you to truly connect with another human being.
The Buddhist teacher Pema Chödrön once wrote that things fall apart so our hearts can open.
Many of the deeper moments I have experienced were born from circumstances I never would have chosen. They didn’t feel like gifts at the time. They felt painful, unfair, and disorienting.
Yet somehow, over time, they softened my hard edge. They expanded my capacity for compassion. They made me a little less certain and a little more curious. A little less interested in fixing people and a little more interested in simply being with them.
Ironically, our culture often treats grief as something to get over as quickly as possible.
But we know that grief isn’t something to solve.
Grief is something to be honored and respected.
What if the cracks in our hearts are not signs that we are broken, but openings through which love, wisdom, and connection can enter?
As I mature, I suspect that wisdom is not measured by how much suffering we avoid, but by how fully we allow our hearts to remain open in the midst of it.
Perhaps that is the courage of this profession.
To keep loving, showing up, and believing in healing, even though we know heartbreak is inevitable.
Wishing you moments of joy, laughter, and connection, even in the midst of life’s beautiful impermanence.
With gratitude,
Brian
P.S. What loss has softened you, this year or over a lifetime? I’d love to hear your reflection. Share it inside The Wisdom Network, a place where we hold space for each other.
What you´ll learn:
- Vestibular Engagement for Emotional Regulation
- Using the Eyes to Hack the Stress Response System
- Subtle Sounds to Release the Peri-Trauma Response
- Effective Self-Holding and Self-Swaddling Techniques
- How and When to Apply Bilateral Stimulation
- Integration and Completing the Stress Response Cycle
