Walking Each Other Home: Reflections on Grief, Loss, and Loving Zeb

Grief is not a linear path. It’s not something we move through step by step until we’re suddenly whole again. It’s a wild terrain — a deep, sacred landscape that reshapes us as we walk it. And in the past two years, I’ve been walking alongside someone who taught me more about that terrain than I ever thought possible.

I was privileged to be part of  my dear friend, Zeb’s journey — not just as she prepared to die, but as she deepened into her life. To be welcomed into that space, to be trusted with her truth, was something

I will carry with me forever.

Zeb was my friend, my teacher, my chosen family. Her journey was not just one of dying, but of awakening. She made the bold and beautiful decision to die spiritually and have a conscious death — one free of medical intervention, in alignment with our shard spiritual valiues. She died peacefully at home, as she had wished. Not in a hospital. Not in the hum of fluorescent lights and beeping monitors, but in her own bed, surrounded by love, ritual, and the quiet power of presence.

She faced death the way she faced life — with fierce honesty, irreverent humour, and a sometimes critical honesty. And yet, there were many moments of struggle too. Dying, like living, was not always graceful. She was frustrated by how long it took. She wrestled with the discomfort of not being able to control the timeline. She missed what she once had and in the quiet spaces, that longing was palpable.

Being in Zeb’s presence in those final months was to witness the great unraveling — not just of her body, but of her ego, her attachment to this earthly plane, and her identity. She let go, layer by layer, and somehow grew more luminous in the process. She gave me the honour of sitting with her in the in-between — holding silence, bearing witness, speaking truths we rarely get to say aloud. Sometimes this was both confronting and at the same time very freeing.

Loss and grief are part of life. Working through them so we can live our best lives is important.

Grief will always follow loss. It is a complex and deeply personal emotional response that manifests in various ways. Whether it stems from the death of a loved one, the end of a significant relationship, the loss of a job, or even a change within oneself, the impact of grief is universal. It signifies the void left by someone or something cherished or valued, necessitating a period of adjustment and adaptation to the new reality that has been created.

When we experience grief, we often find ourselves navigating through a range of emotions — from sadness and despair to anger and confusion. The process of grieving is not linear; it ebbs and flows, sometimes catching us off guard with intense waves of sorrow, and other times offering moments of respite and acceptance. Each individual copes with grief uniquely, drawing upon their own inner strength and support systems to move through the pain and uncertainty.

Working through grief requires patience, self-compassion, and understanding. By doing so, we learn to redefine our sense of self, our relationships, and our place in the world — creating a new narrative about the life ahead of us.

Grief is a powerful emotion, one we often attempt to avoid because we’re unsure how to hold it. But it is crucial to acknowledge and process this emotion in a constructive and kind-hearted way. When we ignore it, grief can settle into the body in harmful ways. When we meet it with care, it can become a portal to profound transformation.

Zeb didn’t want to be mourned in a traditional way. She wanted to be remembered in poetry, in writing, in laughter, in long walks at dusk and stories told around her fireplace. She wanted realness — no platitudes, no sugarcoating. So here is the truth: I miss her. I miss her wit, her insight, her stubbornness, her tenderness, her directness, I miss her alive.

And I also feel her everywhere.

In my bones. In the wind. In the quiet moments when I doubt myself and then hear her voice — gently sarcastic, always loving — reminding me to return to what matters.

Loss changes us. But it also reveals us. My grief for Zeb is not a hole to fall into — it is a doorway. She continues to walk with me through it.

And if you’re grieving someone right now — someone who left in their own way, on their own terms — I hope you know this: you are not alone in the landscape. And though it may feel desolate, there are wildflowers blooming between the cracks.

Zeb taught me that.

We walked each other home — not just to the edge of life, but deeper into our own hearts.

And for that, I will be forever grateful.

✨ Support Is Here ✨

If you or someone you care about is navigating the path of loss and grief, please know you do not have to do it alone.We invite you to reach out for a spiritual counselling session, where you can be supported, held, and guided as you process your experience — honouring both the love that lives on and the healing that lies ahead.

Contact us today to start your healing.

Together, we can walk each other home.