What if grief isn’t the end of joy—but the doorway back to it? In this episode of Journey from Grief to Healing, Ray invites us to make a subtle yet powerful shift: from mourning what we’ve lost to celebrating what we once loved. With wisdom from the Buddha and a luminous poem by J.R.R. Tolkien, Ray explores how even in sorrow, there are still stars in blossom, rivers like silver, and songs waiting to be sung. If you’re looking for hope in hard times, this gentle reflection will guide you toward the dawn.

💭 Five Points to Ponder

• How a small shift in thought can reframe grief into gratitude
• Tolkien’s poetic invitation to dance and sing through the shadows
• Why joy is not the absence of pain, but its companion
• How silence and stillness create sacred space for healing
• The gentle power of choosing to remember the beauty, not just the loss

Sleepless with sorrow? You’re not alone. In this moving episode of Journey from Grief to Healing, Ray reads Robert Herrick’s timeless poem, “Sweet Spirit, comfort me,” offering companionship for those haunted by late-night grief. Through poetry and reflection, this episode brings hope to the darkest hours—when you don’t need answers, just presence. Whether you’re lying awake or walking through sorrow, this episode gently reminds you: comfort is closer than you think.

Points to Ponder

• Why does grief often feel heavier at night—and what can help us carry it?
• What does the repetition in Herrick’s poem offer the grieving heart?
• How do we experience the unseen presence of comfort or the divine in silence?
• In what ways can poetry serve as a spiritual anchor during emotional storms?
• Can hope exist in the smallest flicker—and is that enough to hold on?

What if the strange knocking in the night of your grief isn’t danger… but something sacred? In this deeply moving episode of Journey from Grief to Healing, we explore D.H. Lawrence’s poem “The Song of a Man Who Has Come Through.” You’ll discover how grief carves us still, and how the invisible wind of change stirs us gently toward hope—if only we let it in. This is an invitation to feel, to trust, and to admit the three strange angels that just might lead you to wonder again.

🧠 5 Points to Ponder

• What if grief’s weight is not just sorrow, but resistance to change?
• Could a poem be the companion we need most—one that doesn’t fix us, but simply walks beside us?
• Are you the rock… or the wedge? And what might split open if you let the wind carry you?
• Is the knocking at your heart something to fear—or is it an invitation from sacred change?
• What if admitting your sorrow is also how you admit transformation?