Question: I see people promoting themselves as “grief experts.” When I attended your training, I think you mentioned that the true “expert” is the mourner. Can you expand on this?

Your memory is correct – I have always maintained that the true expert in grief is the mourner.
I do believe there is a real difference between studying a mysterious body of knowledge surrounding grief and committing yourself to helping people versus projecting oneself as a “grief expert.” The Companioning Model of Grief Care is anchored in “teach me” and “compassionate curiosity” about what the mourner is experiencing.

Compassionate curiosity for the companion is about being willing to enter into and learn about the mystery of grief while recognizing you do not and cannot fully understand someone else’s experience. Curiosity is bathed in an attitude of the “beginner’s mind and heart.”

This attitude is not ignorance but the capacity to see without assumptions, to take a fresh look each and every time you are privileged to walk with and learn from a mourner. It involves a clearing away of thoughts, beliefs, and ideas that might cloud your ability to see things as they are in pristine form.

As we all realize, children are naturally curious. As we grow up we are at risk for losing this state of heightened awareness and natural desire to learn from those around us. We may falsely assume we already know. In other words, our intellect takes over. Yet, being a companion to people in grief can reactivate our sense of miracle to bring a fresh, simple, unsophisticated view of things.

Paradoxically, you can only learn from the mourner by acknowledging you don’t know. It is out of your helplessness that you ultimately become helpful. You have to be willing to disconnect from believing you have superior expertise of another human being’s emotional-spiritual journey of grief.

Through no fault of your own, your training as a caregiver may make it difficult to admit you don’t know and don’t have answers. You may instinctively be frightened to be present to people that are in liminal space—betwixt and between!

Actually, you may have been taught that part of being a professional is to project confidence and to state opinions as if they were gospel. Sadly, you don’t get respected in this culture by admitting you are confused or by asking tentative questions in search of enhancing your empathy versus providing techniques for brief therapy that collaborates with attempts to “manage grief.” The unconscious contamination of your training is more likely to encourage you to assess, diagnose, and treat than it is to observe, witness, listen, learn, and watch out for the mourner.

For some caregivers it is difficult, if not impossible, to relinquish their “diagnostic categories,” “interventions,” and “treatments.” These terms often lie at the heart of the professional identity of the care-giver and the invitation to be part of the mental-health medical model of expertise. Yet, the companion humbly acknowledges that “compassionate curiosity” is what you really need to care for the mourner.

Compassionate curiosity is about actively encouraging the mourner to teach you about her grief while you remain patient, humble and caring. You have the honor as a companion to listen and to learn, to be curious rather than to be certain. The greatest privilege of the companioning model, in fact, is that it moves you closer to the very people you wish to support. When you listen without a need to judge or interpret, you create a safe place and become a safe person for the mourner.

At bottom, it is not differences that divide us. Instead, it is our judgments about each other that do. Curiosity and use of the “teach me” model bring us back together. To use this model invites us to rest in the sometimes uncomfortable place of uncertainty of not knowing, having the answer, or being the expert.

One astute observer, Bradford Keeney, wrote the following about the hazards of being an expert or master counselor: “You will find that it no longer matters what you say. Everything uttered will be contextualized as the voice of a master… Avoid the political posturings of ‘mastery’ and return to embracing and cultivating a beginner’s mind. Maintain and respect ignorance. Speak to hear the surprise from your own voice.”

As you contemplate the value of curiosity versus expertise, listen to your own inner voice. What has your own personal grief taught you about what helps people heal? Have you witnessed change as the journey unfolds, but not according to plan or as a consequence of intentional intervention? Do you appreciate the mystery of grief and challenge the wish to have it resolved (which it can never be)? Do you believe that caring for the mourner requires a different language than that of modern academic psychology? Do you believe there is no exact end point to grief and that it should not be tied to a specific linear timeframe? Depending on your answers, you may have to admit you are a responsible rebel who believes in compassionate curiosity and challenges ego-based expertise.

What is a “Responsible Rebel”? One who questions assumptive models surrounding grief and loss and challenges those very models. Rebels are not afraid to question established structures and forms. At the same time, rebels respect the rights of others to use different models of understanding, and provide leadership in ways that empower people rather than diminish them.

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Dr. Alan Wolfelt has been recognized as one of North America’s leading death educators and grief counselors. His books have sold more than a million copies worldwide and have been translated into many languages. Founder of the Center for Loss and Life Transition in Fort Collins, Colorado Dr. Wolfelt speaks on grief-related topics, offers trainings for caregivers, and has written many bestselling books and other resources on grief for both caregivers and grieving people. For more information visit www.centerforloss.com

As we approach the second half of the year, it feels like a good time to reflect on the impact the Brian Dagle Foundation has had in the first half of 2025. It continues to amaze me how many people walk through the door at Healing Hearts or call, looking for opportunities to learn more about grief or suicide awareness. We are honored that so many of you would trust us with the most tender parts of your grief and loss and how every single one of you, in your own way, has contributed to making this place a safe and comfortable place for people to come.

Since January, we have had:

• 583 people attend regular support groups (an average of 97 per month)
• 112 people participate in closed or special support groups (an average of 18 per month)
• 92 people joined us for special events (an average of 15 per month)
• 150 people came to an educational event (an average of 25 mer month)
• 104 inquiries of people looking for grief support (an average of 17 per month)
• 12+ volunteers helped support community events in schools, at suicide prevention walks, and in our Healing Garden

It is hard to believe that we get to be part of the journeys of so many of you and we are forever grateful for the ways you help make this work possible. We couldn’t do it without the time, donations, and participation you so generously offer.

If you haven’t had the chance to join us for a support group or special event, I encourage you to check out our event calendar. Coming in September, we have two special events with world-renowned grief educator Dr. Alan Wolfelt, our golf tournament later in the fall, and the Niantic Jingle 5k, our biggest fundraiser of the year. I hope to see you at one of these events or that you come to visit our facility, Brian’s Healing Hearts, and learn more about the lives that are being impacted.

Grateful,
Ann Dagle
President
Brian Dagle Foundation

Last month’s newsletter on joy and grief sparked several conversations from our community: How do we find light in the midst of the darkness? Can we honestly hold joy and grief together? 

Some of you strongly declared that at this point in your grief – less than 2 years for some – it was a hard, “no.” There was no joy, no happiness. In fact, as one of our members described this moment in their life and grief as though they were watching an old television: life was only to be viewed in black and white. There were others who were grateful for the inspirational words of understanding and hope. At this point, for better or worse, in their grief, they understood that both joy and grief were here to stay with them. 

I remember those days well. I embraced the darkness: it felt safer to stay in the dark because venturing into light opened the possibility of more pain.

In time, I started to dip my toe in the scary pond of life and began to search for moments of peace, glimmers, or little tiny pieces that reminded me that life was worth splashing in the water. Sometimes I ran back into the darkness because the water was ice cold. Other times, it wasn’t too hot or too cold, it was tolerable.

Until it wasn’t.

My tolerance for life was altered. Truth be told, there are times when it still is. 

I’ve learned to see and savor the moments of peace and the glimmers of joy. To use them to carry me though when the water is too cold. I’ve also learned to give myself grace. If the glimmers don’t glimmer for me, I trust that the moments of peace will find their way to my heart when I am ready to experience them.

Sending love as you navigate whichever part of grief you find yourself in,

Ann Dagle

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When you’re consumed by grief, it can feel like you’ll never feel joy again. And when you do, it can feel like you’re abandoning your grief or love your person less.

Good news! Joy and grief co-exist. In fact, they must: healthy grief is made up of a mixture of sadness and joy and disappointment and hope. 

Here are a few ideas to start finding joy in your grief:

• Think about how joy shows up in your life.
• Share a moment where you felt most connected to your loved one with a friend.
• Every day for a week intentionally go out and write down one small moment of joy, comfort, or peace, even if it is bittersweet, for example you could write down you watched the sunset or made yourself some tea.

Try one of these rituals for finding joy:

• Joy Jar: Get a jar and use it to drop in notes on little joyful moments to go back to
• Mindful Sips (or bites): Choose one drink (or meal) to savor, no distractions only being in the presence
• Emotion Naming: Light a candle and speak out or journal your different emotions

Here are a few rituals for mental health:

• Unplugged Nature Walk: Go outside no technology and let your senses lead the way
• Gratitude Check-in: Write down 1-3 moments that have brought you peace
• A Joyful Moment: Do an activity that brings you joy like having a dance break, gently stretch, or go on a walk with music 

How are you finding joy this month? Reply to this email and let us know!

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Video: Finding Joy Through Heartache
Video: Finding Joy in Grief
Book: When all that’s Left of Me is Love A Daughters story of Letting Go By Linda Campanella
Article: How to Find Joy in the Midst of Grief

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“Remember that wherever your heart is, there you will find your treasure.” – Paulo Coelho

“Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.” – Kahlil Gibran from poem “On Joy and Sorrow”

“It’s okay to smile, laugh and feel joy while grieving. Small joys honor your journey, not diminish it” Ann Boleche

Poem: Joy Chose You, Pg 9, Donna Ashworth, Wild Hope

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