Sad Happens: A Celebration of Tears

From the book’s website:

“When was the last time you cried? Was it because you were sad? Or happy? Overwhelmed, or frustrated? Maybe from relief or from pride? Was it in public or in private? Did you feel better afterwards, or worse? The reasons that we cry—and the circumstances in which we shed a tear—are often surprising and beautiful. Sad Happens is a collective, multi-faceted archive of tears that captures the complexity and variety of these circumstances.”

Not only is this book right up my alley as a Hospice Bereavement Counselor, but I am humbled to say that I have a piece included in this wonderful compilation alongside some really cool people like Hanif Abdurraqib, Matt Berninger, Phoebe Bridgers, Helado Negro, and Claire Rousay.

“Sad Happens is a collective, multi-faceted archive of tears that captures the complexity and variety of sadness, joy, love, a sense of community, and a host of other emotions. Available 11/14/23.”

  • Visit the book’s website

  • Order the book from Amazon

2022 :: Year In Review

Welcome to the 2022 Holiday at the Sea year in review. These are a few of my favorite things (from this year at least).

  • Browse my favorite books of 2022.

  • Browse my favorite movies of 2022.

  • Browse my favorite music of 2022.

  • Browse my favorite television of 2022.

  • Browse my unfiltered running list from 2022.

2022 :: Favorite Television

As I mentioned in my movie post, with 8 kids, a lot of my “watching time” is spent with my family including 8 kids. So most of what I watch is either repeats, kids/family things that aren’t that great, or both. But my wife and I were able to catch a few shows that really stood out.

The Bear:

Only Murders In The Building Season Two:

Loot:

Severance:

2022 :: Favorite Music

I hate ranking music. Music is not a competition. But I love year-end lists. It’s the most wonderful time of year when you get music recommendations that you might have missed from people you trust. And 2022 was a terrific year for music.

Here are 50 of my favorite music releases of 2022 (Find the list these were drawn from here). What did I miss? What do you recommend?

  1. Ghosted by Oren Ambarchi / Johan Berthling / Andreas Werliin (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  2. Shebang by Oren Ambarchi (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  3. Time Skiffs by Animal Collective (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  4. Shruti Dances by Auntie Flo and Sarathy Korwar (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  5. Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You by Big Thief (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  6. Bajascillators by Bitchin Bajas (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  7. Ants From Up There by Black Country, New Road (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  8. Who’s The One? by Congotronics International (BC // AMZN)

  9. Agadez by Etran de L'Aïr (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  10. ¡Ay! by Lucrecia Dalt (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  11. Cheat Codes by Danger Mouse and Black Thought (WEB // AMZN)

  12. Anomaly by Jasdeep Singh Degun (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  13. Blue Skies by Dehd (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  14. Evolution Here We Come by Chris Forsyth (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  15. Character of Light by Ernie Francestine (BC // AMZN)

  16. Good and Green Again by Jake Xerxes Fussell (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  17. Something Happening/Always Happening by JPW (BC // AMZN)

  18. Listen To The Blood by the Kernal (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  19. Kumoyo Island by Kikagaku Moyo (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  20. Kalak by Sarathy Korwar (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  21. Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers by Kendrick Lamar (WEB // AMZN)

  22. The OZ Tapes by Les Rallizes Dénudés (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  23. Musakayike by Madalitso Band (BC // AMZN)

  24. In These Times by Makaya McCraven (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  25. This is a Photograph by Kevin Morby (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  26. Bleed Out by the Mountain Goats (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  27. Heaven Come Crashing by Rachika Nayar (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  28. Tonkori in the Moonlight by OKI (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  29. Poolside by One Eleven Heavy (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  30. Weather Alive by Beth Orton (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  31. Reset by Panda Bear & Sonic Boom (BC // AMZN)

  32. 7 by Papir (BC // AMZN)

  33. Sons of by Sam Prekop, John McEntire (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  34. Revelators by Revelators Sound System (BC // AMZN)

  35. I Survived It’s Over by Rich Ruth (BC // AMZN)

  36. Cockroach in a Ghost Town by Slang (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  37. A Light for Attracting Attention by the Smile (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  38. In/Out/In by Sonic Youth (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  39. For the Love of Tabla by Toronto Tabla Ensemble (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  40. Boulder Blues by Staraya Derevnya (WEB // BC)

  41. Choice Tapes Vol. 1-4 by Taper's Choice (WEB // BC)

  42. Recurring Dream by Jeff Tobias (WEB // BC)

  43. Les Racines by Vieux Farka Touré (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  44. Ali by Vieux Farka Touré & Khruangbin (WEB // WEB // BC // AMZN)

  45. Fleeting Adventure by Andrew Tuttle (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  46. Watch My Moves by Kurt Vile (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  47. Air Volta by Volta Jazz (WEB // AMZN)

  48. Marriage by Wau Wau Collectif (BC // AMZN)

  49. Warping All By Yourself by Wet Tuna (WEB // BC // AMZN)

  50. Eli Winter by Eli Winter (WEB // BC // AMZN)

2022 :: Favorite Movies

With 8 kids, I honestly don’t get to see many moves for myself. But there were two that stood out for me this year.

Everything Everywhere All At Once:

  • Purchase Everything Everywhere All At Once at Amazon


The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent

  • Purchase Everything Everywhere All At Once at Amazon

the Ghostbusters Tackle Grief

The other night we watched the 2016 Ghostbusters movie. I don’t know if you’ve seen it. It’s very funny. But that’s not really my point right now. Though, if you don’t believe me, here is the trailer:

My family enjoys this movie, but that’s not what I want to talk about.

I want to talk about grief. and about how the only way to get through grief is to grieve.

Grief is our natural emotional response to any significant loss or change.

Emotions are energy.

Energy must expend itself. Bad things happen when we bottle up our emotional energy. We can either explode and lash out at others. You know the saying: “Hurt people hurt people.” Grief hurts. Or, we can implode and direct that emotional energy back at ourselves in self-destructive thoughts or behaviors. Part of learning to deal with grief is learning how each one of us processes emotional energy in healthy ways.

The only way to get through grief is to grieve. That emotional energy must let itself out because it is our love with nowhere left to go. The only way to get through grief is to grieve. Just like in Pixar’s ‘Finding Nemo’ where the only way through the trench is “through it, not over it.

Grief is our natural emotional response to any significant loss or change.

Emotions are energy.

Energy exhausts itself.

Grief is not not the same thing as depression.

Grief comes and goes like waves. Depression is a constant heaviness that does not lift no matter the circumstances. The two often intertwine, but they are not the same. If you wonder if you might be experiencing depression, please contact a trained professional.

Grief is our natural emotional response to any significant loss or change.

Emotions are energy.

Energy exhausts itself.

The only way to get through grief is to grieve.

Back to Ghostbusters: there’s this scene where they’re testing out their new equipment behind the Chinese food restaurant where they rent office space.

Melissa McCarthy’s character Yates gets caught up in a laser beam that separates her from her footing and changes her direction and shakes her about just like grief does for so many of us. As she’s flailing about, Leslie Jones as Toran says: “I guess she’s not bending her knees enough, right?” This, of course is a reference to ate McKinnon’s Holzmann trying to ease Yates into all this by saying: “You’re going to want to plant your feet firm; bend your knees to compensate for the extra kick-back.”

You can’t plan for grief. You think you can, but grief is an emotional process that doesn’t care what preparations you’ve made. It will whip you about and leave you unsteady, but it does not control you.

Yates finally comes to earth only as Holzmann urges: “She’s doing a marvelous impression of a deflating balloon. We’ve just gotta let her ride it out until it’s out of juice.”

This is the grief process. “We’ve just gotta let her ride it out until it’s out of juice.” I wish I had different news for you, but the only way to get through grief is to grief. Pay attention to your emotions and how you process them.

2021 Wrap-Up :: This Is (sort of) About Jam Bands

The past couple of years have been hard for all of us. I started my Clinical Pastoral Education process in January of 2020 right before the Pandemic it. This was also right when I started working primarily as a Bereavement Counselor. As COVID tsunamied through our communities, I quickly transitioned to working from home. Normally, that’s fine. I have a big family, but I also have a private office, so I can actually focus on work.

But that also meant that my trips outside of the house greatly decreased. I have to go to my work office at least once a week to pick up and drop off mail, but other than that, I have to largely make excuses to get out of the house. And again, “normally", that’s fine for a home-body like me.

But I LOVE live music.

And, even with a large family, my wife and I make regular attempts to experience live. It is important to us. It is important to me. I can’t imagine life without it. Or at least I couldn’t. Until I had to. I saw two concerts in 2020, ending in February (TERRY RILEY!). I didn’t go to another live music experience until August of 2021 (NEKO CASE!). That’s a long time to go without live music; especially when (even as an Introvert), it’s something that energizes you.

And then, after seeing the terrific line-up of Lucinda Williams, Gov’t Mule, Avett Brothers, and and Willie Nelson, but before seeing Dead and Co., my wife and went to see Phish.

This post is not about what you think about “Jam Bands.” This post is about my experience at a Phish concert.

I love Phish. I love jambands. I love musical improvisation. I love being part of a group that is experiencing a once-in-a-life-time moment. The music will never be repeated again in that way. You can re-listen to it, but if you weren’t there, you weren’t there. It’s not the same. At least it doesn’t carry the same emotional weight. It might gain emotional weight as you re-listen in various stages of life, but if you weren’t there; you weren’t there.

My work as a pastor, a hospice chaplain, and as a bereavement counselor continually reminds me that life is fragile. It can’t be repeated. There are no do-overs (this is not about re-incarnation). One of the things I hear continually, time after time from the grievers I walk with is; I wish I’d spent more time with them; I wish I’d been more present.

In the words of Ferris Bueller, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

And seeing Phish live again for the first time in 20-something years forced this all upon me. There I was under the sunbaked stars with nearly 20,000 other people, most of all my wife, hearing music that would never be repeated the same way; experiencing a moment that was gone as soon as it was known. Such is life. Or, as Vonnegut might say, “So it goes,” or maybe “Hi Ho.” Whatever.

Live music, particularly any live music that incorporates improvisation is a reminder that life is about the here and now. If we spend all of our time focusing on the past, we will likely find ourselves bogged down with regret and sadness or glorifying our past; there’s no way I can ever live up to that again. Or, if we spend most our emotional time and energy thinking about the future, we (or at least I do) end up with nothing but anxiety.

But live music can help remind us that it doesn’t have to be that way. Whatever happened to us in the past; regardless of what we’ll experience once we exit the venue; there is the here and now. There is the band and the lights and the crowd and something special.

But that’s life, isn’t it? It might be a special moment, but it is special because it reminds us what is special about life. This is it. Do something. Do something for others. Create something. Protect something. Advocate for something. Get outside of yourself. Read. Write. Draw. Compose. Listen. Run. Hike. Explore.

“In a world gone mad a world gone mad There must be something more than this.”

Seeing Phish live again reminded me why I love live music. Because live music reminds me to love life.

FOOTNOTE (As it were):

This post is not about my favorite concert of 2021. I don’t generally like ranking things, but I’m comfortable pointing out if one stood out for me above others. So, if we’re talking about “that” concert for 2021, it was Erykah Badu. Seriously. If you haven’t had a chance to see her live, please do so as soon as you feel safe.


  • Browse my favorite albums of the year

  • Browse my “2021 Yearly Wrap-it-Up” which is really a ramble about seeing Phish

  • Browse my favorite books of 2021

  • Browse my favorite movies of 2021

  • Browse my favorite television of 2021

  • Listen to a nearly 5-hour very low quality mix of one song from each of my favorite albums of 2021 called “Soundtrack to the Collective Meltdown”


2021 Year In Review :: Favorite Television

As I mentioned in my movie roundup, I have a lot of kids, so a lot of my time is spent with kids. That doesn’t always leave a lot of time for other watchings, but here are three televisionings that really stuck out to me this year.

Like last year, my “favorite television” list includes Ted Lasso and Joe Pera. As I wrote last year, both shows were (for me), a shot of much-needed positivity.

But, to be honest, the show that stood out the most for me this year was a bit darker. Midnight Mass on Netflix captivated me on so levels. Regardless of what you think of vampire stories (SPOILER), this is a powerful allegory about spiritual abuse which is unfortunately quite timely.

Ted Lasso:

Midnight Mass:

Joe Pera Talks With You:


  • Browse my favorite albums of the year

  • Browse my “2021 Yearly Wrap-it-Up” which is really a ramble about seeing Phish

  • Browse my favorite books of 2021

  • Browse my favorite movies of 2021

  • Browse my favorite television of 2021

  • Listen to a nearly 5-hour very low quality mix of one song from each of my favorite albums of 2021 called “Soundtrack to the Collective Meltdown”


2021 Year In Review :: Favorite Books

At the time of this writing, I read 41 books in 2021. Not quite a book a week, but still a good pace. This year I finished the novels of Haruki Murakami in chronological order and started re-reading Kurt Vonnegut’s novels in chronological order. I read a lot about grief and grieving but I only had a chance to read a couple of books published in 2021. But two of them really stood out to me.

One about chewing gum, the creative process and the fight for survival. The other about a father’s love for his son and the desire for connection and the fight for survival. I’m sensing a theme.



  • Browse my favorite albums of the year

  • Browse my “2021 Yearly Wrap-it-Up” which is really a ramble about seeing Phish

  • Browse my favorite books of 2021

  • Browse my favorite movies of 2021

  • Browse my favorite television of 2021

  • Listen to a nearly 5-hour very low quality mix of one song from each of my favorite albums of 2021 called “Soundtrack to the Collective Meltdown”


2021 Year In Review :: Favorite Movies

As you might imagine; for someone who has eight children, I don’t get to watch many movies for myself (and by that I don’t mean “by myself,” I just mean “Not Watching Movies With Kids.”). Most of the movies I have time for are somehow kid-centered.

But five movies really stuck out to me this year, and they run the gamut. 8 hours of the Beatles rehearsing and breaking up. Somehow it both normalizes and enchants the creative process. A movie about fish boy finding himself, and a great introduction to the Velvet Underground. Oh, and a super-fun Marvel movie which I thought was their best in years.

But one of the movies that stuck out above the others for me was Pig starring Nicolas Cage. It was recommended to me as a powerful meditation on grief and, as a Hospice Chaplain and Bereavement Counselor, I was hooked. It did not disappoint.

The Beatles: Get Back

Luca:

Pig:

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings:

The Velvet Underground:


  • Browse my favorite albums of the year

  • Browse my “2021 Yearly Wrap-it-Up” which is really a ramble about seeing Phish

  • Browse my favorite books of 2021

  • Browse my favorite movies of 2021

  • Browse my favorite television of 2021

  • Listen to a nearly 5-hour very low quality mix of one song from each of my favorite albums of 2021 called “Soundtrack to the Collective Meltdown”


Wanda's Vision of Grief

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Disney/Marvel’s WandaVision has cast the cultural spotlight on something we all experience but don’t want to talk about. The series takes place in the Marvel universe after the events of Endgame.

Wanda Maximoff’s brother has been killed in battle. Her Love, Vision (a synthezoid made from vibranium) is also gone. Through flashbacks we learn about the bombing-death of her parents as well as the traumatic experiences of her youth.

Without giving too much away, Wanda, like most of us, never has quite the time to process her trauma and go through her grief, you know, with saving the world and all. Each unresolved loss builds on the next until the heaviness feels suffocating. And in the last episode, we learn that Wanda’s grief exploded (literally) in an unconscious attempt to protect herself. As the episode unfolds, we are privileged to a conversation between Wanda and Vision. And everyone’s been talking about “that quote” from Vision. But before we get to that, let’s set some context.

Grief is our natural reaction to any significant loss or change. Grief is an emotional process; our emotional response to that loss or change. Since it is an emotional process, not an intellectual process, we can’t talk our way out of it and there are not “logical steps” to be done. Instead, we must go through it; we must allow those emotions to run their course. And we must remember that emotions are energy.

And, when we lose someone we love, we can narrow our definition of grief even further because grief is inextricably tied to love. Grief is evidence of love. Grief is that feeling we get when we reach out for a special person when we need them the most, only to find that they’re no longer there. Grief is that love for someone special with nowhere left to go.

Or, as Vision so eloquently puts it: “what is grief, if not love persevering?”

Our relationship with our loved one doesn’t end. It just changes. Our relationship doesn’t end because our love doesn’t end. And grief is the outworking of that love with nowhere left to go; it is our emotions trying to work themselves out. Grief is us trying to make sense of what do with that love since its object is gone, and how to work through the resulting emotions.

I am thankful that a show with such a large platform is willing to openly wrestle with grief. It is something we will all go through, but it is something our culture doesn’t talk about. We don’t know what to say to someone grieving, and their outpour of emotion, so we either try to avoid them, offer empty platitudes, offer them a “fix,” or decide that it’s a good time to talk about ourselves. But if grief is the outworking of love, then certainly we can love each other enough to create safe spaces for one another to work through our grief.

WandaVision reminds us that we are not alone in our grief; and forces us each to ask what lengths we would go to had we the powers. Thankfully, WandaVision has helped bring this discussion to the light. Now it’s up to us to continue the conversation.

The Conflicting Emotions Of Grief

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As part of my role as a Bereavement Counselor, I have a list of people that I regularly keep in contact with. We start out with weekly phone calls and gradually taper off. I am not there to tell people how to grieve. These weekly phone calls are precious times to check in with people grieving the loss of a loved one. And I often start each weekly conversation in a similar fashion: I’ll ask about how you’re eating and sleeping, how’s your support system, and; where you’re at emotionally this week.

Grief is an emotional process. It is that love for someone special with nowhere left to go. Its object has been removed. The Muse is gone. Grief and love are interconnected and grief is not a problem to be solved, but a process to go through.

However, our culture does not equip us to really face and deal with our emotions. Somewhere along the way, many of us have picked up the idea that openly displaying our emotions is somehow a sign of weakness. I’ve got to be strong for others usually means shutting down our emotions, or only allowing them the freedom flow when we’re alone. Vulnerability is seen as weakness, but if you believe that crap, I suggest you just go read some Brené Brown.

And it’s not just that we’re taught to bottle up our emotions (which are energy, by the way), it’s that we are often not well equipped to even identify, much less respond to our emotions. That’s why I regularly ask people where they’re at emotionally this week. I encourage them to use feeling words and actually identify the emotions running through them.

One surprising realization for many people is that they are actually feeling conflicting emotions at the same time. They are angry and relieved. They are sad but hopeful. They are grieving but joyful. All at the same time. We contain multitudes. But we’re not taught how to navigate such deep waters.

Grief is the natural reaction to any significant loss or change.

For man people, grief is evidence of love; it is that love for someone special with nowhere left to go.

Grief is not a problem to be solved but a process to go through.

Grief is an emotional process.

And grief contains conflicting emotions at the same time.

Such turbulent waters require growing in self-awareness and practicing grace. We are often our own worst critics and that’s where things like timelines enter the grieving process for many. Why am I not further along? So we compare ourselves to others or judge or progress instead of letting the conflicting emotions inside of us unweave themselves from one another. Grief requires emotional situational awareness and the willingness to let go of understanding and let our emotions play themselves out. This is a painful process but we must accept that we can have conflicting emotions running through us at the same time.

Understanding that grief can contain conflicting emotions at the same time can also help us understand why it is that grief is both universal but unique. No one goes through grief in the same way because no one has the same story; no one has the same gumbo of emotional history.

So let’s give ourselves and one another some grace along the way.

I Can't Tell You How To Grieve, But I Can Be There With You

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One of the most difficult parts of my role as a Bereavement Counselor for a large hospice is when people ask me for advice. Somewhere along the line, many of us picked up the idea that there are certain steps that we can go through (this is likely due to the wide use of Kübler-Ross’ Five Stages of Grief). Though, I think much of the problem is that we believe that grief is a problem to be fixed.

Grief is not a problem to be solved, but a process we must go through.

In its grandest sense, grief is the natural reaction to any significant loss or change. You can grieve the loss of a job. You can grieve a divorce. You can grieve the pandemic. The problem we run into is that grief is both universal and unique. It is something each and everyone of us will face in life but no one processes grief in the same way.

The grief I most hear about in my work as a Bereavement Counselor is the loss of a loved one. In these cases, I think we can narrow our definition of grief to something like: Grief is evidence of love, or even more specifically: grief is love for someone special with nowhere left to go. Grief and love are inextricably woven together.

And since love is the source of grief, grief is an emotional process, not an intellectual one. It is not something we can think our way through; there are no steps to follow. We must allow our emotions to run their course. And since grief is love working itself out; grief is an emotional process:

  • There is no timeline. (if there is, it’s coming from you)

  • There is no comparison. (If there is, it’s coming from you).

Grief is universal and unique. It is something we all go through, but no one goes through in the same way. I know you want to know the next steps. I know you want to know when things will change. But I can’t tell you those things. The best I can do is walk through the valley of the shadow of death with you. I can companion you and I can watch for signs of unhealthy emotional processing, but I can’t tell you how to grieve.

For many of us, grief is also the process of self-discovery. Since grief love is the source of grief, and much of our self-identity is tied to our closest relationships, when we lose that someone, we lose part of ourselves. We must rediscover (recreate?) who we are now. Who are we without our person? I can’t answer that question for you. But I can walk through the valley of discovery with you.

I can’t tell you how to grieve. But I hope you fine someone who is willing to walk through it with you.

Sitting With The Brokenness (More About Grief, Kintsugi and The Art of Precious Scars)

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In 2019, I began exploring the idea of using Japanese art of Kintsugi as a metaphor for the grieving process.

At that time, I was serving as a Hospice Chaplain/Bereavement Coordinator/Volunteer Coordinator at a small hospice. Part of my job was offering ongoing grief support for the Bereaved. Much of the curriculum that I came across was either trademarked, overly religious for the groups I was leading, or just full of empty platitudes. So I started creating some conversation-starters for support groups on my own.

Somewhere during this time, I learned about the Japanese art of Kintsugi, sometimes known as “the art of precious scars.” If you’re not familiar with Kintsugi, you can read my original post or Google Kintsugi yourself.

Somewhere during this time I also began working through the idea that we must explore what it means to carry our losses forward with us in life in emotionally healthy ways. Kintsugi is a perfect metaphor for this. The mended pieces are beautiful because of their journey through brokenness.

Since that time, I have transitioned to serving as a full-time Bereavement Counselor for a large hospice. Day after day I talk to people trying to work through the grieving process. I have talked to hundreds, if not thousands of people fumbling their way through the loss of a loved one.

And I keep coming back to the idea of Kintsugi being a perfect metaphor for what it might look like to carry our loss forward with us in emotionally healthy ways. I am reminded of a quote by Anne Roiphe: “Grief comes in two parts: the first is the loss, and the second is the re-making of life.”

I can’t remember where I came across a description of the process a Kintsugi master might go through when someone would bring a broken piece to them. They would spread the broken pieces out on a blanket and sit in front of them. They would just sit with the brokenness.

This feels unnatural. We want to hide our brokenness. We want to fix it. But grief is not a problem to be fixed. It is a process to go through. If grief is love for someone with nowhere left to go, then it is not a problem to be fixed. It’s natural to mourn and cry out that this isn’t the way things are supposed to be; to admit that things feel broken.

Grief comes in two parts: the loss and the re-making of life.

And when those Kintsugi masters would sit with the broken pieces, they were not just sitting with the brokenness, they would pick up the pieces, and feel them; trace the edges, and they would begin to envision what the piece might look like after it’s mended. How its brokenness would become part of its story in beautiful ways.

As we acknowledge our loss and brokenness, we must learn to not dwell on the past (the loss); we acknowledge it and its pain, but we set our sights towards an emotionally healthy future (the re-making of life.). This will look different for everyone but I believe that kintsugi can help us understand what it might look like to carry our loss forward with us in emotionally healthy ways.


  • Read the preface piece to this post: Grief, Kintsugi and The Art of Precious Scars


You Can't Carpe Diem Without Memento Mori-ing

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A couple of months ago I was in a pretty bad car accident. My life didn’t “flash before my eyes,” but there was a moment I thought I was going to die. And that hangs heavy. Even months later.

Coming face-to-face with our own mortality is uncomfortable. There is power in the fragility of life. I will die. You will die. As Haruki Murakami says in Norwegian Wood: “Death exists, not as the opposite but as a part of life.” Memento Mori. “Remember that you will die.”

Of course there is the danger of becoming overly morose when one lives in the recognition of death. Some may even come to believe that life is futile. But the reverse is also possible. Living in the shadow of death can bring life.

I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase Carpe Diem, usually translated as “Seize the Day!” It appeared as a major theme in Dead Poet’s Society and those darn young people often try to translate it as “YOLO!” (“You Only Live Once”) while doing stupid things. But I don’t think that’s how Carpe Diem is meant to be understood. And I don’t think you can really Carpe the Diem without Memento-Mori-ing. In other words, we cannot “seize the day” without carrying the remembrance that death is ever present. Remembering death can help us savor life. In the shadow of death, life takes on new light if we let it.

In times of cultural grieving like we’re currently experiencing, it feels as though the heaviness of death can be oppressive. But it is my prayer that we can Carpe Diem because we Memento Mori. May the reminder of death compel to make the most of life.

Megan Devine: "How do you help a grieving friend?"

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Back in September of 2020, I posted a short video on the difference between sympathy and empathy by Brené Brown. That video has helped me tremendously in my work as a Bereavement Counselor.

The other day, my wife bought me the book It’s OK That You’re Not OK: Meeting Grief and Loss in a Culture That Doesn’t Understand at a garage sale. I had not heard of Devine previously, but it looked like a helpful book for my line of work. After looking in to Devine some, I came across a video similar to Brown’s and just as helpful: “How do you help a grieving friend?”

From the video’s Youtube page:

“It's so hard to know what to do when your friends are hurting. The thing is, you can't cheer someone up by telling them to look on the bright side, or by giving them advice. It just doesn't work. Watch this video to learn the one thing that will improve all of your "I'm here for you" intentions, and be that supportive friend you most want to be.”


  • Visit the Refuge In Grief website

  • Follow Megan Devine at Twitter

  • Purchase It's OK That You're Not OK (Meeting Grief and Loss in a Culture That Doesn't Understand) by Megan Devine at Amazon




The Year of Positivity? Joe Pera and Ted Lasso Were The Television We Needed In 2020

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As I mentioned in my 2020 year-end wrap-up, my year in television was marked by two shows in particular: Joe Pera Talks With You, and Ted Lasso. The two shows are quite different; Pera is quiet, even somewhat subdued; quirky and endearing.

The awkward but sincere Pera makes his way through life and relationships as a Junior High School choir instructor. Pera’s sense of wonder and sincere niceness brought and endearing positivity to an otherwise oppressive year. I want that joy Joe finds at “discovering” The Who’s “Baba O'riley.” I want to think the best of people, which is the thread tying these two shows together.

Ted Lasso tells the tale of an American “football” coach who is brought to England to coach European football (soccer). An edgier, more foul-mouthed show, Lasso’s namesake character is definitely more animated that the subdued Pera, but Lasso shares Pera’s seemingly endless ability to not only think the best of people but to practice forgiveness.

It is striking to me that in a year as heavy as 2020 was, two of the best television shows trafficked in positivity, niceness and forgiveness. Both shows are not only genuinely funny and wore their positive outlooks without flinching from the sadness of life or becoming preachy.

Watch the Joe Pera Talks With You Season 2 trailer:

Watch the Ted Lasso series trailer:


  • Visit Joe Pera’s page at Cartoon Network

  • Visit Ted Lasso’s page at Apple TV

  • Read my 2020 Year-End Television year-end wrap-up


2020 Year-End Self-Reflection

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Though I admittedly do not always succeed, one of my goals is to keep on learning in life. I don’t ever want to grow stagnant or stop learning. This requires self-awareness and self-reflection and it is an ongoing process.

This year, I completed the training to become a certified Grief Recovery Method Instructor, I finished a certificate program in Palliative Care Chaplaincy through the CSU Shiley Institute for Palliative Care, and I completed my second unit of Clinical Pastoral Education through Community Care Chaplains (via the College of Pastoral Supervision and Psychotherapy).

All of that has meant A LOT of self-reflection.

And, honest self-reflection means that we might not always “like” what we find.

For the first time this year, I finally dove in to some of the learnings to be found in the Enneagram. I confirmed that I am a number 4 with a 5 wing. No surprise there; my desire to be valued and understood as being “unique” has long been a driving force in my life. However, it was the realization that I go to a #2 in times of personal chaos that was a revelation for me this year. I love to help people. I love to teach. I love to equip others. I love to be needed. I need to be needed.

I oftentimes find myself in positions of leadership. Not because I have the strongest convictions, but because I can be a leader who gets people to follow. I enjoy public speaking and I love preaching. I find teaching to be a valuable skill and I love trying to distill complex ideas into everyday terms for people so that they can grow. I am often able to remain calm in distressing situations and, through lots of practice, I am able to make you feel like I am really listening to you.

All of this meant that things like planting a church and serving as someone’s pastor came fairly natural for me. I like to think that I possess (and nurture) a certain sense of “emotional intelligence” which means that I can oftentimes make you feel at ease with me fairly quickly and not only “at ease” but willing to share some pretty deep things you might not be willing to share in your everyday life. I don’t take any of this for granted. I deeply appreciate every genuine connection I am able to make with others.

But my natural abilities sometimes feed in to my weaknesses. I have come to realize that when I am not personally emotionally centered in healthy ways that I can take on the unhealthy aspects of an Enneagram #2, meaning that I will often give in to my own need to be needed. This is no good when you are a pastor whose job is to nurture people!

This year I have allowed myself to examine my own emotional boundaries and I haven’t always been happy with what I’ve found. After 15 years of serving as a Pastor, I realized that many of the relationships in my own life were not reciprocal. In other words, if we were going to get together, it was usually up to me to schedule. And then, when we did get together, 45 minutes of our hour together would be spent with you pouring our your current miseries to me and then maybe 5 minutes of you asking something like: “Oh, by the way, how are you?” It wasn’t mutual. And it wasn’t friendship.

This came as a painful realization because it meant that I had fewer real friends than I had previously considered. I had lots of relationships, but very few people caring for my best interest or looking out for me. I had very few people returning the level of care I was giving. I understand that this is often natural, especially for those in “giving occuptations,” but I am no longer a pastor and I do not disclose personal things in my work calls which means that if we still have a relationship in which it is all about you, I’m no longer interested. I wish you the best. I will help when I can. I will always love you and pray for you, but not every burden is mine to carry.

These realizations have led to some lonely self-discoveries and some lost relationships. But I am no longer willing to engage in emotionally unhealthy relationships because of my own weaknesses. I must allow my strengths to help set the healthy emotional boundaries for my relationships. If I am the only one initiating contact, I am done. If our conversations are all about you, then let’s just be honest and say that I am your counselor and we are not friends. I am your unpaid counselor.

I know that some of this sounds harsh and I do not want it to be. Instead, it is one man finally learning that if we want to devote our lives to giving to others, then we also need to take care of ourselves. This might mean pruning some personal relationships to align more with healthy emotional boundaries and it might mean re-focusing on family and personal goals.

This understanding of my own need to be needed has helped me grow in my own role as a Bereavement Counselor. Early on, I wanted people to know how much knowledge I had and how much I could help. But as I’ve learned about my own woundedness and weaknesses, I have learned that the people I speak to will talk about what they need to talk about. It is my job to hold the space well enough for them to birth their own stories. This has led to the paradoxical conclusion that the less I speak, the longer most of my phone calls end up being. People just want someone to listen without judgment.

This year has been very difficult, but I hope that I’ve learned from it. I look forward to focusing on more healthy relationships and pursuing personal goals.

2020 Year-End Cultural Thoughts

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I have never been more disenfranchised from “American Christianity” than I have this year (though the previous 4 years leading up to this are not far behind.).

I have watched as many family and friends have given themselves over not only to blind allegiance to one political party, but to conspiracy theories and the dehumanization of those who disagree.

The religious tradition I grew up in (vanilla wanna-be mega-church influenced by Focus on the Family) often implicitly carried with it the notion that “to follow Jesus was to be Republican,” but that heresy has never been louder than 2020. People claiming to be “Christians” have not only supported the most divisive, vulgar, criminal, sexually immoral, irreligious president of our time (who tear-gassed a crowd of protesters so that he could take a picture with a bible in front of a church or re-tweeted one of his supporters shouting WHITE POWER at people protesting systemic racism) and have called in to question the very election they were counting on, all while claiming that being asked to wear a mask to protect their neighbors is an “infringement” of their rights.

This year has crystallized the heart-wrenching fact that many people cannot tell the difference between Americanism and Christianity, and if you question them, they will say you are neither. “Pastors” are claiming persecution when all they’ve been asked to do is the bare minimum to look out for others. (Read my piece “Love Your Neighbor, Wear A Mask (Americanism Is Not Christianity)

Al Mohler has led other SBC seminary presidents in an ill-advised crusade against Critical Race Theory while allowing things like ESS (Eternal Subordination of the Son) to be taught in our seminaries. That, on top of a year when Mohler has refused to rename seminary buildings, he has been revealed to have supported chattel slavery, condemned Harriet Tubman, and admitted he has been influenced by the Lost Cause theory of the South. In his bid to become president of the Southern Baptist Convention, he has wholeheartedly given himself to the Republican Party without apology. (Read my piece “MLK, Trump, "White Moderates", Abortion, And Christian Witness In America”)

And all the while, we have seen the emboldenment of (White) Christian Nationalism erupt like Mount Vesuvius. The “Proud Boys” ripped BLM flags off of churches while the police stood by and anyone who believes in Systemic Racism is apparently a Marxist and hates America. (Read my piece “Nationalism is Anti-Christ” // from 2019).

And it’s hard to understand why so many “Evangelicals” continue to endorse this lying, conniving, sexual assaulting, conning, grifting president. The only answer can be that many American Christians have felt their position of cultural influence slipping away. Why else would you be mad if the grocery cashier doesn’t say “Merry Christmas” or if there are nativity scenes on public property? But these are the very things “pastors” like Robert Jeffress (whose church trademarked the “hymn” Make America Great Again) claim to be persecution. (Read my piece “The False Persecution Complex of American White Evangelicals” and yes, this one was technically from 2019).

I don’t know what 2021 will hold, but I don’t see the waters of Evangelicalism calming any time soon. And this makes me thankful and hopeful. God’s Church will prevail and not even Christian Nationalism, MAGA, or a sexual-predator, White-power president overwhelmingly supported by White Evangelicals will change that.