The Obliterated Place with Kaye Steinsapir

Kaye Steinsapir

The Obliterated Place is where you find yourself after an event that changes everything – a diagnosis, an accident, a natural disaster, the end of a marriage, the death of someone you love.  You no longer recognize your life. The future won’t be what you envisioned. Some people are there for you. Others disappoint you when they can’t or won’t be. You measure time by before and after what happened.  You are not alone. Join us in the Obliterated Place, where we witness and honor grief. We share stories and say their names. Brave faces aren’t necessary. We’re vulnerable to great sorrow when we love deeply. Your pain is a badge of honor.  We can’t control much of what happens to us, but we decide how to respond. As Viktor Frankl wrote, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” Take your fragments and broken shards and create something beautiful. If you don’t know where or how to start, you’re in good company. No one does. We’re all learning, and this is a place to learn from each other.  This is also a space for anyone who cares about someone who’s suffering. There’s no right or wrong way to express your concern. Just show up. By observing grief in its myriad forms – raw and unvarnished – you’ll naturally feel more at ease as you comfort your person. We all find ourselves in the Obliterated Place at times in our lives. It’s the human experience. As Cheryl Strayed (who graciously provided her permission to use this title) described it, “the obliterated place is equal parts destruction and creation. The obliterated place is pitch black and bright light. It is water and parched earth. It is mud and it is manna. The real work of deep grief is making a home there.”  Whether you’re grieving or seeking to better to understand those of us who are, welcome. Thank you for being here. Your presence alone sanctifies this space. 

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The Obliterated Place is where you find yourself after an event that changes everything – a diagnosis, an accident, a natural disaster, the end of a marriage, the death of someone you love.  You no longer recognize your life. The future won’t be what you envisioned. Some people are there for you. Others disappoint you when they can’t or won’t be. You measure time by before and after what happened.  You are not alone. Join us in the Obliterated Place, where we witness and honor grief. We share stories and say their names. Brave faces aren’t necessary. We’re vulnerable to great sorrow when we love deeply. Your pain is a badge of honor.  We can’t control much of what happens to us, but we decide how to respond. As Viktor Frankl wrote, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” Take your fragments and broken shards and create something beautiful. If you don’t know where or how to start, you’re in good company. No one does. We’re all learning, and this is a place to learn from each other.  This is also a space for anyone who cares about someone who’s suffering. There’s no right or wrong way to express your concern. Just show up. By observing grief in its myriad forms – raw and unvarnished – you’ll naturally feel more at ease as you comfort your person. We all find ourselves in the Obliterated Place at times in our lives. It’s the human experience. As Cheryl Strayed (who graciously provided her permission to use this title) described it, “the obliterated place is equal parts destruction and creation. The obliterated place is pitch black and bright light. It is water and parched earth. It is mud and it is manna. The real work of deep grief is making a home there.”  Whether you’re grieving or seeking to better to understand those of us who are, welcome. Thank you for being here. Your presence alone sanctifies this space.