"Grief shared becomes half the sorrow; joy shared becomes double the delight." - Swedish Proverb
Last weekend, I hosted my first Rooted Women’s retreat at my home in Colorado. It was a vision I’d held for years– to create a sacred space in nature for healing and connection. I was deeply moved by how we held one another, and how the land held us. By the magic that unfolds when you’re surrounded by people who believe in you and care for you. By what emerges when we sit together in the messiness of it all and someone says, “me too,” or “I hear you.”
Each of us was transformed by being in real connection with another. That is the essence — and the power — of community.
Just days after the retreat ended, my little Colorado mountain town experienced an unimaginable tragedy: a fire tore through our downtown and destroyed 18 beloved and vital businesses– the heart and soul of our place– in a matter of hours. These spaces, each their own small community, are suddenly gone. The owners, who have woven the fabric of our community for years, have lost everything. We’re still trying to process the devastating loss, and we will be grieving it for a long time.
And yet, our community remains — the connective tissue that helps us stand strong, even in heartbreak. Together, we’re raising funds, crowdsourcing all kinds of resources, lending our hands (and hearts) to carry each other through.
Community doesn’t erase pain, but it helps us hold it differently. It reminds us we are not alone as we rise from the ashes of loss, uncertainty, or the long rebuilding ahead.
Community is everything. (Thank you to these amazing women and this special place I call home for the priceless reminder.)
Cancer can begin when just one cell forgets it belongs to the whole. I often wonder how much our world might change if we remembered our belonging and invited “others” in— if we offered more friendly hellos to strangers, sat longer on our porches getting to know our neighbors, and made more space for kindness and connection.
Because when we connect— in sorrow or in celebration — something special happens: our grief can soften, our joy can multiply, and we remember we’re all part of something greater. Interwoven. Stronger, together.
May we find community when we need it most.
May we create it wherever we go.
And may we be it for one another.