The Brave, Life-Changing Choice I Didn’t Expect After Loss

A blender, a bear, and a moment I didn’t see coming – what it taught me about loss and the choices we all have.

The other day, I was volunteering at Appalachian Wildlife Refuge, blending up formula for the bears when a wave of sadness hit me out of nowhere.

The steady whir of the blender took me straight back to my old kitchen, where my Vitamix sat on the counter, ready for morning smoothies and the occasional “make it up as you go along” experiment.

That blender is now somewhere at the bottom of the Swannanoa River, carried away with everything else that September day (Hurricane Helené).

It’s strange how something so ordinary can unlock such a deep wave of memory and loss.

As the anniversary of losing my home and belongings in Hurricane Helené gets closer, I’ve been thinking about how much I actually lost that day… And it’s so much more than a house:

I lost my community. My best friend living right next door. The comfort of knowing I was only ten minutes away from the gym and downtown. All those little everyday things I never thought I’d miss until they were gone.

But here’s what I’ve realized: my “old self” isn’t bringing these moments up to torture me.

She’s giving me a choice.

A choice to decide…

1. Do I want to accept my new reality and feel happy, encouraged, safe, and in love with my new home and life?
2. Or do I want to sit for a while with the sadness of losing my old home and life?

Both of these are okay.

It’s so easy to forget that we always have a choice about how we think and feel in any given moment.

I’ve had to remind myself of this repeatedly over the past year. As a Type Seven on the Enneagram, it’s not about “choosing happy” all the time… Sometimes I need to let the sadness have its say before I can move forward. Other times, I’m ready to lean into joy.

I’ll be honest, I’ve wrestled with this unexpected feeling that loving my new home is somehow betraying my old one. How do you give your heart to something new when you’ve lost so much?

But I’m learning that I can love both. I can hold my precious memories and still choose the life I’m building now. I know from my own experience, and from what I shared in my recent blog about inertia, that the past can feel like a comfortable place to linger, but if I stay there too long, it keeps me from stepping fully into the life that’s here, waiting for me.

And this isn’t just about losing a home. It’s true for any loss: a loved one, a pet, a job… You can fill in your own story here. The details are different, but the essence remains the same: we get to choose.

Sometimes we choose to stay with the grief a little longer.

Sometimes we choose to step toward the new life that’s waiting for us.

Both deserve compassion.

Coaches’ Notes – A Quick Summary…

You don’t have to lose your home and everything in it to feel like this.

As a coach, you might be working with someone who’s grieving a relationship, leaving a long-term job, closing a business they poured their heart into, moving away from a community they loved, or even sending their last child off to college. Loss comes in many forms, and it can shake the ground under our feet just the same.

What’s important to remember, and to remind our clients, is that we always have a choice in how we think and feel about what’s happened. It’s easy to forget that in the fog of grief or transition.

Some key things to keep in mind when coaching in these situations:

• Honor the both/and – Clients can love what was and still learn to love what is. They can feel grief and gratitude at the same time.
• Normalize the range – Some days they’ll lean toward joy, other days they’ll need to sit with the sadness. Both are okay.
• Release the guilt – Moving forward, or falling in love with something new, doesn’t mean they’ve abandoned or disrespected the past.
• Watch for inertia – The comfort of the familiar, even when it’s gone, can keep someone from stepping into their new reality. Help them see when they’re lingering there.
• Encourage micro-choices – Healing isn’t one giant leap, it’s a thousand small decisions to keep showing up for the present moment.

As coaches, our role is to hold space for all of it, the grief, the hope, the messiness, and the courage it takes to keep choosing life as it is now.

If something in this post resonates with you, I’d love to hear from you. You can email me at elaine@coachbrilliant.com. I always enjoy connecting.