Words From the Village

Community grieving is a medicine for anyone facing an uncertain future. This retreat's design encouraged awareness of grief beyond loss of loved ones. I value how we are all encouraged to do our best for collective participation throughout the retreat. There is something about being in the village and being witnessed in it that helps me leave lighter and more in love with my life.  

David (Santa Cruz, CA             

This retreat helped me tend parts of my soul that made me love the world and myself again. The environment that the facilitators create is powerful and nurturing, which allowed me to heal from traumatic life events. It was a weekend of learning, connecting, and healing. 

Alden (Los Angeles, CA)

Attending this grief retreat was a life-altering experience. I came in apprehensive and nervous about opening up to strangers, but Josh and the team created such a safe and compassionate space that I quickly felt supported and seen. The retreat completely shifted my understanding of grief—not as an isolated experience, but as something deeply human and universal.

Hearing others share their vulnerability allowed me to open up in ways I never imagined. Though no two experiences of grief were the same, there was an unshakable sense that we were all part of something greater than our individual pain. This retreat cracked me open in the best way possible, giving me a newfound ability to hold space for both myself and others. If you’re feeling stuck, lost, or alone in your grief, this experience will change you. I am forever grateful.

Ben (Santa Cruz, CA) 

A deep bow of gratitude for the care and intention that Josh, Laurence, and many helping hearts brought to the Santa Cruz grief ritual retreat. Together, they modeled that vulnerability and authenticity were welcome in the container they were weaving, and I felt safe, seen, and fully supported to bring all aspects of myself to the experience. Throughout the weekend, skillfully curated offerings for connecting, sharing, witnessing, creating ritual, and song guided me to move through my inner grief landscape of rage, fear, shame, and ecstatic joy in surprising and healing ways.  I joined the ritual circle as a solitary grieving stranger and came through the other side deeply connected to myself and an entire village of courageous, heart centered folks. I feel thankful for all that I received! 

Erin (Oakland, CA)

My time spent with Laurence, Joshua, his team, the ancestors and a lovely village of fellow travelers in grief and gratitude (and rage) nourished me to the core of my being. Having spaces and places where all the feelings are welcome is such a blessing to have access to. At times, being with others in such vulnerability was challenging, but in the long run, one of the most healing aspects of it all. This was a well held, heart felt container and I look forward to more opportunities to being with y’all again.

Sarah (Santa Cruz, CA)

These grief gatherings satisfy a primordial thirst for communal expression. In a careful and respectful preparation-participants share stories and songs, then take their places in a reverent outpouring, acknowledging their own grief and affirming that of others. What is revealed is this: that beyond identities, roles, and histories, what unites us is our intimacy with sorrow. And so emerges the embracing chorus of a village that we desperately needed though we didn’t even know it.

David (Arcata, CA)

Participating in the grief ritual has been incredibly rewarding. I went to the Community Ritual and Retreat with little awareness of how integral grief is to being fully alive. I emerged as a more complete human, connecting with new depth, and loving with new ease, and grateful. Such a carefully tended circle for healing and transformation! 

Gary (Nevada City, CA)

My experience at the Grief and Gratitude retreat was unlike any other workshop, retreat, or event I've ever done. I opened my emotional expression in a way that continues to resonate into every moment of my life since. There are key moments in my life, specifically in my relationships with my partner and parents, where I can potently feel an opening, a capacity to feel that I simply didn't have access to before the grief retreat. I now view my grief as one of my most important emotions to be in connection to.

Chris (Nevada City, CA)

Grief 1: RAGE. Sadness. Hope.god is in the rain.

Grief Art From the Village

Sarah
Santa Cruz, CA

Grief 2: 7 gates. 5 core emotions. cooking in the cauldron. rage ritual.


David

Eureka, CA

This is inspired by my fellow grief tenders as I witnessed their dedication to the work. They reminded me of William Blake’s figures, who sometimes seem to contain numinous energies or serve as transformational vessels.


Mega

Oakland, Ca

Grief 3: harvesting. receiving the gift. ancestral connection.

Poems from the Village

It Took Time

Deborah V.

Santa Rosa, CA

 

It took time 

for the depth and sharing

and care and connection

and juice that is life to percolate 

from visceral experiencing of Spirit

and deep, dark Earthen inhabiting 

of my bones

to my being

and back into life. 

 

It took time 

to know that I am learning. 

I'm learning to listen 

and mark the points in my life 

like pins on a map or stars in the sky 

that only through living deeper and truer can be distinguished 

as roadways and constellations pointing me North... or not. 

I'm learning to listen to life's beckoning, 

bringing me closer to wholeness. 

It is with you, my Family, 

that I mark with a pin my humanness and yours. 

 

As we release and let die, 

we are born again and again, 

and welcomed into the embrace of the Circle. 

The Wholeness reflected

within, and without, 

and beyond what is seen or heard, 

until we wake up. 

I'm learning, 

we wake up each other 

with truth and courageous contact—

deep knowing, 

deep seeing, 

deep experiencing of the truth of who we are, 

as we are. 

 

It took time. 

It took raw and tender hours together. 

It's taken my life so far, 

perhaps many lifetimes, 

and many lives from now-time and dreamtime, 

and beyond time. 

It took coming together in timeless Ritual Space, 

in prayer, and with persistence, 

where the Soul's demands can be met- 

soul, to Spirit, to matter, to me. 

 

The mind cannot comprehend the Intelligence, 

so I mark with another pin 

that my soul knows consolation, space, and a place with you. 

I am relieved- [levis] lightened, [levare] lifted] again- 

and life can be this beautiful.


​​The Song of Joy

David S.

Santa Cruz, CA

 

You came 

Here

And there was no safety

That your courage didn’t provide

All of us.

 

You were numb

You were angry

You were crushed

 

Beneath heavy waves of sadness

Of harm, fear, and anger

You were distracted 

By the pain you carried 

Alone

 

Until you chose to share it

In a space where there was no comfort

That your courage didn’t provide

All of us. 

 

You brought cars and bags full

Of loss and shame

Filled by your ancestors long before 

you arrived

To empty them here on the land

Which was replenished by the power

Of your sensitive sorrow.

 

The places in you 

Which had not seen

The light of love in a thousand years

Were cooked by the sun, and by the village

 

In a place where there was no love 

That your courage couldn’t bring

All of us.

 

We found sisters and brothers 

And mirrors

Where we saw ourselves for the first time

And asked forgiveness 

For the hurt we caused someone’s tender heart, 

Our own. 

 

We danced awkwardly, beautifully towards the altars

There to remind us of who we are

And who we are not, and 

Who we no longer are.

We were watched there by those we lost

 

And those we will lose.

 

We had no witness

Our courage did not meet 

In all of us.

 

That courage told the simple truth

That it’s all about love,

And that we approach the altar of love 

With openness and frozenness 

With respect and fear

With clarity and confusion 

With anger and kindness

Full of emotion and empty, 

Hollow, numb.

 

We came as hippies and hillbillies 

Teachers and students

Healers and followers

Sick and well

And dug to the bottom 

Of grief’s deepest holes 

So we could rise

And sing 

The song of joy.