Some losses hit without warning, leaving no guide for how to navigate them. A friendship that once felt certain fades without explanation, and the absence shows in the smallest moments. A job that once provided structure vanishes, leaving days empty and unshaped. A diagnosis, breakup, or death strikes without warning, upending everything before there is time to comprehend the loss. Days blur, and time stops making sense.
The mind scrambles for reasons, for patterns, for anything that makes it make sense. It tries to force the broken pieces into a neat story, something that can be understood and filed away. Yet, some changes don’t fit into anything clean. They leave behind a space that refuses to settle, where nothing lines up the way it used to. In this new space, the work isn’t about fixing what is broken. It’s about learning to stand when everything solid has disappeared.
When everything familiar falls away, it’s natural to reach for something—anything—that feels steady. This might mean creating a new plan, making a rushed decision, or stacking up distractions just to avoid sitting in the ache. Moving fast often feels better and easier than staying still. Yet, rushing through the hard parts doesn’t make them disappear. It only makes it harder to see what has really changed. Real steadiness comes from staying still within the mess, long enough for the truth to come into focus.
In the middle of the confusion, staying grounded remains the only reliable support. It is about finding something small and consistent to hold on to, even when everything else feels scattered. It isn’t about feeling calm all the time. It is about choosing actions that make it possible to get through the day when it feels too heavy to manage.
Grounding can take the form of small acts like getting up at the same time, going for a walk, texting someone back even when words are hard to find, or sitting outside. While these actions don’t fix the confusion or erase the loss, they offer a steady point to hold onto when everything else feels uncertain. They may not rebuild what was lost, but they provide something reliable to lean on when nothing else feels certain.
Small routines often have the greatest impact. The simple acts—like washing dishes by hand—bring comfort in feeling the warmth of the water. Writing something as simple as how the coffee tasted a little stronger one morning can create a quiet sense of connection.
After a loss or major change, big goals can feel overwhelming, so focusing on smaller, steadier steps can feel more grounding. Some days, just getting out of bed is enough. These moments lay the groundwork for what comes next, creating space for the future.
After a loss, nothing can undo what’s gone, but in time, everything else reshapes itself around it. The real work and effort involves showing up, staying steady, and doing the work. Progress might be slow at first, but small steps lead to lasting change.
Eventually, a different kind of movement begins. Sometimes, being near others without talking becomes enough—walking through a bookstore, visiting the farmer’s market, or staying at the laundromat longer. It’s not about doing anything special—it’s just about being present. These moments don’t fix what’s broken, and they don’t need to. They offer a quiet reminder that life moves forward, even if it is no longer as it once was.
Hard days will still come. Some mornings feel heavier than others, for no clear reason. Having a few quiet comforts ready—a playlist, a walk, or texting someone who understands—makes it possible to keep going when everything feels fragile.
Coming back isn’t about rushing to replace what’s gone. It involves staying with and managing the uncertainty until something concrete starts to form. Not the previously envisioned life, but the one that is developing—with attention, care, and a consistent effort to progress.
In time, the pieces may not fit as they once did, but that’s not the point. What counts is staying present, even when it feels like nothing is changing. Small acts, steady routines, and the quiet decision to keep moving forward help shape something new—something that, though different, can still carry hope and the possibility of what’s to come.
Discover more from Wiley's Walk
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.