Steady Presence

Life After Loss

There are moments after loss when one realizes, not suddenly but with a dull and persistent awareness, that an immense amount of labor has already been undertaken without the courtesy of visible proof. Effort has been applied carefully (without drama), emotions handled with as much honesty as could be summoned, and decisions made in good faith. Yet the future offers very little in the way of reassurance. One continues anyway, mostly out of habit, partly out of integrity, but mainly because stopping would require an explanation that cannot be articulated.

Photography adapted from RDNE Stock Project

I had a three-hour heart-to-heart today with a friend I once modeled with [let’s call her Egypt]...

Someone whose presence has remained steady across years, distance, and our changing lifestyles. We have celebrated milestone moments, and now, we’ve both had our share of grief. These transitions have a way of clarifying who is willing to stay in your life.

Egypt is the kind of woman who lifts you, roots for you, and doesn’t disappear when things get heavy or inconvenient. Although we have stepped away from the profession that first brought us together, she remains a model in every sense that matters. Her soul is deeply grounded, her light is richly present, and her love is all too generous.

That conversation brought me back to center stage, and the runway before me now feels less obscure, clearer than the dimness that enclosed me yesterday.

This article is intended to provide motivational and inspirational content. However, if you are experiencing thoughts of depression, suicide, or other mental health concerns, please seek help from a qualified medical or mental health professional.

In the United States, you can call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or text the Crisis Text Line at 741741.

For international emergency care, please visit helpguide.org, which lists global helplines and crisis centers. Remember, support is available, and there is help for those who need it.

In a period of mourning, it can feel like loss leaves a void.

The weight of grief lingers, and the signs of healing remain elusive. One has shown up faithfully, following every recommendation earnestly, even daring to speak, recalling memories that steal the very air you breathe. Your nervous system begets the pointed question: was this of any use? It is an unnerving interval, not dramatic enough to be called a crisis, not settled enough to be called peace. It’s the long in between, where self-compassion is no longer theoretical but required.

Be a friend to yourself: When I spoke with my friend today, her objective was not to fix me. It was simply to be seen. Show yourself that same capacity by listening inwardly without rearranging your story to suit the comfort of others. Don’t hold a mirror for others to judge your worth. When feelings of grief arise, don’t suppress them. Pull up a chair; lean into what you might glean from your emotions.

Photography by RDNE Stock Project

The soul, having endured something heavy, has already chosen to shift away from it.

This is where inhabitance begins to matter: not retreating from the world, but a practice of remaining present. Healing, contrary to its reputation, does not announce itself with certainty. We must advance toward it by recalibrating posture, thought, and attention, until one day we are oriented away from the belief that pain is permanent.

Be a friend to yourself: Patience, so often misunderstood as passivity, is active devotion. Don’t doubt this investment when the return is not immediate. Your honesty is evidence that there is movement, even if the destination hasn’t been revealed.

Many who pass through grief discover a difficult truth: strength is exhausting.

In periods led by necessity, protector energy takes the wheel. The parts that make decisions and maintain daily functioning were never meant to carry the whole system indefinitely. You may still move through the motions, but healing without integration of the full self cannot be sustained. Eventually, even the most capable require rest, not because you have failed, but because there can be no endurance without relief.

Be a friend to yourself: Start today by taking a practical step – don’t rush your recovery. Your nervous system can begin to relearn safety when given the dignity of time, a supportive network, and self-compassion.

I want to thank our readers for their support as I navigate this personal journey of loss and mourning. I didn’t expect to enter the season in this way, but I’m so grateful to be able to express its influence on me. My hope is that what rises from the ashes is the ability to inhabit what awaits on the other side of grief.

For lives reshaped by loss, Lore & Leaf Studio helps you find the words to say "you are not alone."

You might also like…

Arbor of the Vine provides inspirational content and resources designed to support women’s creativity, wellness, and personal growth through our collective platforms, including Echoes & Vine Magazine, The Word on the Vine Newsletter, The Echo Effect Podcast, Lore & Leaf Studio, and the Emerging Voices Youth Writers’ Guild. Our content reflects lived experiences and diverse perspectives, celebrating empowerment, resilience, and thoughtful connection. While intended to inspire and guide reflection, it is not a replacement for professional guidance. For situations requiring emotional support, we encourage seeking care from a qualified medical or mental health professional.

Disclaimer
The opinions and views expressed in Echoes & Vine are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect those of the publisher, editors, or affiliates. The publisher and editors disclaim any liability for any damages or losses resulting from the use of information contained in this publication. This disclaimer shall be governed by and construed in accordance with Substack and the laws of the United States of America.

Limitation of Liability
In no event shall Echoes & Vine, its board, contributors, members, or affiliates be liable for any damages, including but not limited to incidental, consequential, or punitive damages arising from the use of or inability to use this publication.