How To Use Collapse Grief As A Compass

My first 20 years were spent riding some gnarly grief waves (with plenty of wipe-outs along the way), hoping to someday reach the safety of a sandy shore.

It happened eventually, but that wasn´t the end of my grief. It was just me finally learning how to use it as direction and liberation.

And I apply that every day in my life, and in my work with clients.

So, today, let´s talk about how reframing collapse-related grief can open the door to not just healing but thriving.

 

 

Grief gets framed as something to survive — a disruption, a deep loss, an incapacitation.

But grief is also a compass.

It points.
It directs.
It clarifies.
It reveals what matters with a sharpness nothing else can replicate.

Grief is the most honest navigator you have.

It points to what you loved.
What you long for.
What you can’t bear to lose.
And what you’re no longer willing to tolerate.

 

Collapse grief isn’t a sign that something is wrong with you.
It’s a sign that something is right with you:
your capacity for love, meaning, and presence.

We only grieve what mattered.

We only ache where we loved.

 

Collapse grief is not just mourning what is ending — it’s mourning (in advance) who you were, how you lived, and how life felt.

 

We often try to outrun collapse grief.
We ignore it, deny it, intellectualize it, bury it.

But collapse grief is patient.
It will wait for you.

And when you are finally still enough, it will guide you.

If you let it, the grief of collapse becomes a fierce and faithful ally.
Let it tell you the truth about what you were built for.

Because where your grief points, your bloom is possible.

 

For those of us who recognize the predicament our world is facing, it's important to understand that we are grieving for things we have not yet lost.

 

In grief work with those who have lost loved ones, this is called "anticipatory grief", such as when we mourn for someone who has received a terminal diagnosis, is suffering from dementia, or is in hospice care.

 

But for those struggling with their grief about collapse and mourning for what we will be losing, there is no word to describe it.

 

I call it "lostalgia".  It's a wistful sense of longing and appreciation for what we have now but may not have forever. 

 

We look at places we love, experiences we cherish, and a life that we have carefully built over the years.

And, while we don't yet know exactly how things will change, or when we will personally experience real loss, we see that things are changing. 

 

If you've ever made a big move to a new school, a new job, or a new city or country, you have experienced this. 

If you loved where you were, you likely spent your last days there really noticing moments and appreciating them,

saying, "I'm going to miss this."

 

We're feeling a lot of lostalgia now.

The good news: we can use it to ground ourselves in gratitude.

 

PROMPT: 

If grief is pointing somewhere for you right now, where is it leading you?

What moves you most about what you are losing as things unravel?

Name it. Appreciate it. And let your inner compass direct your next steps.

 

Thank you for reading, and for being open to recognizing your lostalgia and turning it into clarity and gratitude.