Grief knocks like a door-to-door salesman who is excellent at his job, but doesn’t find much joy in it.

He shows up, stirs some emotion and offers an opportunity to buy back into the pain.

The pitch is convincing. So convincing that it might even warrant some reflection.

How badly do I need to feel this?

It’s up to us how long we chat with the salesman, whether or not we let him in to set up his demonstration, and ultimately it’s up to us to whether we decide to buy what he’s selling.

The question becomes: is he offering us an opportunity to grow, or just a path to further suffering?

Do we need the pain? Or can we thank him for his time and kindly send him on his way?

Death is an uncomfortable, turbulent, messy part of life.

Most of all because the toll greif takes is insensitively personal. It’s an isolating experience like no other, which sometimes prompts us to reach out.

And we ought to reach out. Because community is the antidote to most feelings of isolation.

What’s important to consider are the channels through which we seek that community.

Some of our channels limit our ability to connect earnestly, honestly, and with respect.

Seeking support in these places can be a demoralising way to realise that life goes on and not as many people care as perhaps it feels like they should.

If you’re in need, find a friend and share the same air for a while. Each second will be worth a thousand shallow likes.