Losing someone we love isn’t just painful; it’s life-altering. I’m finding myself in this heavy space right now, trying to make sense of what feels senseless. My brother’s passing has left an emptiness that echoes in every corner of my heart. The world feels different now – unfamiliar and somehow quieter, but filled with memories that play over and over, leaving me both comforted and deeply saddened. Writing about grief while the feeling is still so fresh isn’t easy, but in sharing this experience, I hope others who are feeling the weight of loss might find a little more peace and understanding.
The Depth of Grief and the Heavy Emotions That Follow
Grief is a relentless wave of emotions that sweeps over us in unexpected moments. One moment I’m almost okay, and the next, a memory surfaces, bringing with it a tidal wave of sorrow, anger, and questions that seem to have no answers. The sadness can feel all-consuming, as if it’s woven into the fabric of every thought, coloring everything with loss. I’ve struggled with guilt, too – wondering if I could have done something different or been there in some other way. But I’m learning that these feelings are part of the natural process, as painful as they are.
Though I’m a naturally deep and introspective person, the depth of this loss has forced me to look within in ways I hadn’t before. Grief exposes parts of us we didn’t know existed. It strips away our protective layers, leaving our vulnerabilities exposed. I’m learning that letting myself fully feel – the hurt, anger, confusion, and even moments of peace – is the only way through. Denying or stuffing down the emotions doesn’t make them disappear. They’re there, waiting to be honored and released.
A Call to Shadow Work: Embracing the Darkness Within
Losing my brother has brought me face-to-face with aspects of myself that I hadn’t previously confronted. This is the essence of shadow work: confronting the hidden, painful pieces within us. I thought I’d explored all of my depths, but grief brings so much more than sorrow; it stirs up dormant insecurities, regrets, and fears that we’ve buried deep. I’ve found myself reflecting on our relationship, on things I wished I had done differently, on memories we shared, and on moments I can’t get back. It’s painful, yet there’s also a strange beauty in reconnecting with these pieces of myself.
In this new layer of shadow work, I’m discovering that my brother’s passing has become a great teacher, even in this unimaginable way. His life – and his departure – are asking me to look at the ways I’ve held myself back or closed myself off. Each difficult emotion becomes a mirror, reflecting parts of me I might not have otherwise been ready to face. This process isn’t easy, but I’m beginning to see how exploring these shadows could lead to healing in places I didn’t even know needed it.
The Spiritual Perspective: Finding Meaning and Lessons in Loss
Spiritually, I’m finding some solace in the belief that every soul has a purpose and a promise to return to Source eventually, and that even in loss, there is deeper meaning. I don’t pretend to fully understand why he left when he did, but I’m choosing to believe that his journey, and the lessons it brought him (and will continue to bring those of us who loved him), is part of something greater. Losing him has reminded me of life’s preciousness, of the importance of cherishing the moments we do have, and of living in a way that’s true to ourselves and our most authentic expression. I can feel his presence in certain moments, as though he’s still guiding me, offering me glimpses of peace.
I’m also paying attention to signs – little things, like a song he loved that comes on unexpectedly, signs along roadsides as I drive, hearing his voice speak to me randomly or the sensation of him near me when I’m alone with my thoughts. Spirit speaks to us in subtle ways, and these moments have become a quiet comfort, a reminder that love doesn’t just vanish. We’re still connected, even if in a different form now.
Holistic Healing Tools for Moving Through Grief
Healing feels far off, but I’m turning to practices that offer small pieces of comfort and connection. Here are a few tools that are helping me move forward – not away from my brother, but with him still alongside me.
1. Meditation and Breathwork
Meditation creates a gentle, sacred space where I can sit with my feelings. Heart-centered meditation, especially, has helped me connect with the love I still feel for him, while breathwork allows me to release some of the tension and sadness I hold in my body. Even if it’s only a few minutes each day, this practice has become a lifeline for me, especially since his passing.
2. Journaling as a Way to Honor and Release
Writing has always been my way of processing, and now it feels more important than ever. I write letters to him, tell him what I miss, what I wish I could say, and what I hope he knows. I write about the hard days and the moments that feel lighter. This ritual is a way to stay connected to him, to keep the conversation going, and to give myself permission to express everything I’m carrying.
3. Plant Allies and Herbal Support
Herbs like lavender, mimosa and passion flower have been my allies lately, helping to soothe the edges of grief. I drink teas that ground me, that bring warmth and calm when my mind feels chaotic. I’ve also been with other sacred plant medicines ritualistically, to connect with a deeper understanding of life and myself, and to find insights that words alone can’t reach. Nature, in its own quiet wisdom, has a way of holding us in times of loss.
4. Energy Healing and Reiki
The weight of grief can feel like it’s settled deep into my bones, affecting my whole being. I’ve turned to energy healing as a way to lighten that load. As a Reiki master practitioner, I innerstand how we can use a bit of help in moving our energy in times of big shifts and grief. Reiki has helped me release some of the emotional blocks, restoring a sense of peace and even moments of clarity. These sessions also make me feel closer to my brother, as though he’s still by my side, helping me make sense of this new chapter and find my way forward.
5. Community and Support Circles
Being around others who understand the depths of this loss has been incredibly grounding. I’ve found comfort in connecting with my family, lifelong friends, and others who’ve experienced similar pain. Just knowing I’m not alone, that others carry their own stories of loss and healing, reminds me that we’re all in this together - that grief is a shared experience, woven into the fabric of life.
Moving Forward with Love and Acceptance
I don’t think I’ll ever “move on” from losing my brother, and honestly, I don’t want to. Instead, I’m learning to carry him with me in a way that honors both his memory and my own journey forward. I believe there will always be moments when the sadness feels as fresh as it did at the start, but I’m trusting that it will soften over time. Healing isn’t about erasing the pain but learning to live with it, to alchemize it, and to find meaning in the love that remains.
This journey isn’t linear; some moments, I feel strong, and other moments, the sorrow hits me with all its weight and I lose my breath. I’m learning day by day to let each moment be what it is, without trying to change it or judge it. Grief, in its own way, is a testament to the bond we shared. It’s a reminder of the depth of our connection, of how precious that bond was and always will be.
In the end, I know my brother wouldn’t want me to stay in despair. He’d want me to live fully, to carry on with joy and purpose, knowing he’s still with me in spirit. By embracing the holistic healing tools I’ve collected over recent years and allowing myself to do the deep, uncomfortable work of grieving, I hope to carry his memory as a source of strength, a reminder that love endures, even well beyond this life.
Grief is a personal journey, but it’s also one that connects us all in this life. I hope that sharing this experience, as raw as it is, brings a sort of comfort to those who may also be navigating loss. Healing may take time and come in layers, but there is hope even in the heaviest of days for a life that honors both the loved ones we’ve lost and the selves we’re becoming.
To my big little brother - Jayton Rase Hobson - “shewww buddy!” as you would say. This last week since losing you, time has stood still. I love you man. Although my spirit is aware that loss is an illusion of the flesh, my human heart aches to be with you again laughing and picking at each other. When we weren’t fighting, we were partners in crime. From meddling around our grandparents’ house as kids, taking risks climbing trees and getting lost in the woods, to reconnecting as adults and making new memories camping, hiking, hunting cool rocks and foraging for medical plants.. I’ll always cherish the memories we shared, especially those made in the months before your passing. Fly high brother, and help guide us all safely home.