Decorative graphic with purple outline of a circle and floral accents, containing text about a themed circle.

You are not grieving wrong.

Whatever you are carrying, a person, a marriage, a version of the world you believed in, there is a place to bring it that does not ask you to sort it into worthy or too small.

Grief was never meant to be carried alone. But most of us have never been offered a circle built to hold both threads at once: the personal loss that breaks your heart in private, and the collective grief of watching the world keep breaking in public. You have likely been carrying both without a name for either, without anyone telling you that you were allowed to feel them side by side.

The Threshold Circle is a three-month container for exactly this. Gathering on September 22, October 20, and November 20, you'll come together with a small group of eight to twelve people for an hour of ritual, art, and reflection. This isn't a support group, and it isn't a class. It's a circle built to witness your grief as it actually is, personal and collective, without asking you to leave half of it at the door.

In 2020, everything cracked open at once. The world stopped, and grief moved into homes whether it was invited or not. I watched people carry two kinds of loss at the same time, the ordinary, aching loss of a person or a marriage or a version of life, and the collective grief of watching the world they knew come apart. No one had given them permission to hold both without picking one.

That was the year I entered seminary. Not because I had answers, but because it was clear a reckoning was coming, and people were going to need somewhere to bring it. That path led me into end-of-life work, into ritual, into the belief that grief was never meant to be sorted or solved. It was meant to be witnessed.

The Threshold Circle comes from that same conviction. You don't need to leave any part of your grief at the door. You just need somewhere to bring it.

Each gathering opens with a ritual to mark the threshold you're standing at. From there, you'll move into a piece of art you make with your own hands, no skill required, just your attention and your willingness to let something take shape. The hour closes with a reflection question meant to travel with you, something to carry back into your week long after the circle ends.


Close-up of a graphic design with purple floral motifs and white cursive text that reads 'This is for you if...' on a dark teal background.

This is for you if you've been carrying grief alone and are ready to bring it into community. It's for you if you've felt the strange guilt of grieving something personal while the world feels like it's on fire, and wondered if your loss was even allowed to matter next to everything else breaking. It's for you if you've been looking for a container that doesn't ask you to choose which grief gets to be in the room.


The Threshold Circle gathers three times for one hour each:

September 22, October 20, and November 20

The full container is $250, or you're welcome to spread it across two payments of $125 if that makes it easier to say yes. This is held as a small group, not a crowd, so there's room for your grief to actually be seen.If this is calling to you, join The Threshold Circle. If you have questions email me at thegriefaltar@revjekaren.com