Dear Gentle Reader, For years, I have been thinking about this first post—how to begin a conversation in a space so deeply tied to what...

by Lee Erickson Mastering the Art of Being Broken begins where many childhood wounds begin: on the playground, under the watchful eyes of other children, in the moment humiliation first teaches you that being different can make you a target. What starts as a skinned knee becomes something larger — a lesson in shame, survival, invisibility, and the quiet work of getting back up when no one comes to help. This poem reaches back into a distinctly Midwestern childhood filled with

by Lee Erickson Backlit scene from a display at Ueno Park. Tokyo, Japan. Grief rarely leaves us with neat images or comforting...

The summer I turned ten, Aldo Jones—eleven, but a grade behind— hunted monarchs as they landed on his mother’s zinnias.

Sign with the words Grief, Guilt, Shame and Regret in a foggy forest. When my brother died by suicide, I felt things I didn’t even have...

After decades of shame and self-judgment, a late ADHD diagnosis gave Lee Erickson a new lens — and self-compassion.

A Rainy Morning, a Funeral Flight, and the Grief That Follows A rainy evening in Seattle casts a somber glow on the damp pavement, as...

I didn’t mean to come back to Paynesville. But my brother ended his life here, and now every place I return to is layered with the before.

This post is for anyone who’s ever tried to make a silent deal with the universe, and found only silence in return.

By Lee Erickson, MA, LPCC Before grief begins, there is often a moment when the world still looks normal—until it doesn’t. Shock has a...

By Lee Erickson, MA, LPCC Dear Gentle Reader, When someone we love dies, the world doesn’t just change—it stops. Time seems to distort....

by Lee Erickson Peony root ready to be planted. Roots are never simple. They twist and tangle, hold memory in their fibers, and carry...