Fall has a way of reminding us what it means to let go. The leaves fall, the air turns crisp, and everything around us whispers: It’s okay to release what no longer serves you.
In grief, that release is complicated. We hold on tightly to memories because they’re all we have left of someone we love. And sometimes, we confuse releasing pain with letting go of love. But the truth is—you can do both. You can keep the love and set down the weight.
Why We Struggle to Let Go
Letting go sounds simple, but for a grieving heart, it can feel like betrayal. You might think, “If I stop hurting, will I stop remembering?” But release isn’t forgetting—it’s allowing space for healing to breathe. It’s about choosing which memories to keep close and which pieces of pain you no longer need to carry every day.
The Bonfire of Memory
I often think of fall bonfires—how they gather people together, spark warmth, and transform what once was into light. There’s something sacred in that image. Imagine your grief as a pile of sticks—each one representing a memory, a regret, or a piece of guilt. You can choose what to hold onto, and what to lay down in the fire.
Maybe it’s a “what if.” Maybe it’s a “should have.” Maybe it’s simply the constant ache of missing them.
🔥 Write each one down on a piece of paper. Read them aloud if you can. Then, safely burn them or tear them up. Watch the smoke rise, knowing it’s not about forgetting—it’s about transforming your pain into something that can lift.
Coaching Tip: Release Ritual
✨ Reflect: What are you still carrying that feels too heavy?
✨ Write: Name what you’re ready to release (regret, guilt, or emotional exhaustion).
✨ Release: Burn or shred it as a visual reminder that it doesn’t define you anymore.
✨ Replace: Say aloud one truth you want to carry forward—“I loved deeply.” “I’m healing.” “I’m allowed peace.”
Quote to Carry With You
"Some of us think holding on makes us strong, but sometimes it is letting go." — Hermann Hesse
Letting go isn’t losing. It’s creating space for light to reach the dark corners of your heart. Like the bonfire that burns bright against the night sky, you too can carry warmth from what once hurt.
This week, may you find the courage to release what no longer serves you—and the peace that comes when you do. 🔥