The Hardest Part of Grief? Taking the First Step Forward

(mouse clicking) (gentle music) Headspace Studios. (soft music) Hey friends, it's Rosie here. Welcome to "Radio Headspace" and to Wednesday. A few days after the fires, I found myself scrolling through stories of people rebuilding, people who had just lost everything and were already thinking about what was next. And I thought, "How? How do you wake up the next day and figure out how to move forward when everything is different? When the home you built, the life you knew, or the person you loved is suddenly gone." We've spent this week talking about loss, about what we grieve, what it means, and how it changes us. But today, I wanna talk about something even harder, what comes after? Because grief isn't just about the past, it's about the future too. And after we lose something, someone, we're left with a question that feels impossible to answer. How do we begin again? And yet, somehow we do, not because we're ready, but because life just keeps on moving even when we don't want it to. And at some point, we have to find a way to move with it. So let's talk about it. Grief doesn't have to have a clean ending. It's not a chapter we finish and close and just move on. It lingers. It reshapes us. It shows up in unexpected ways, and yet the human spirit is also resilient. There's a moment for some of us, a very intentional moment, where we have to choose to take a step forward, not because we feel ready, but because that's how healing begins. A few years ago, a friend of mine shared something with me after her father had passed away. She told me that for weeks after he was gone, she couldn't step onto her yoga mat. This was someone who had practiced almost every day of her life for years. She even taught community classes at her local women's shelter. Yoga had transformed her life. She had been a school teacher in LA, and yoga was her ritual. It was her way of staying connected to herself, but after losing him, it felt pointless, empty. Like, what's the point of stretching and breathing when the world has fallen apart? But then one morning without overthinking it, she unrolled her mat. She didn't do a full practice. She didn't move with grace or intention. She just sat there. She shed a few tears, she took some deep breaths, stretched a little, and that was it. She explained to me that something small had shifted right at that very moment. Not a grand dramatic transformation, just a tiny shift, a beginning. And that's how we start again, not with certainty or motivation, but with the smallest action, the quietest gesture of moving forward, even when we don't know what's next. So, dear friends, if you're struggling to begin again, try this. Pick one small thing, one simple act of care, one tiny movement forward. Maybe it's making a...