Finding treasures where we stumble

🤝 Grief, creativity, and the quiet courage it takes to keep moving forward — together.

Author

Brian Stefan
July 08, 2025

💌 Dear friends of the California Grief Center,

"It is by going down into the abyss that we recover the treasures of life. Where you stumble, there lies your treasure."
— Thich Nhat Hanh

Living in the age of grief is hard.

Some days it feels like we’re stumbling from heartbreak to heartbreak, each loss compounding the last. Yet even here — especially here — we discover what matters most.

We find hope in each other. In the simple miracle of showing up for one another. In compassion that refuses to look away. In communities that gather to share burdens too heavy to carry alone.

Because grief may be inevitable, but so is our capacity to care. When we come together — with open hearts, tender curiosity, and a willingness to bear witness — something beautiful happens.

We remember we’re not alone.
We remember love still grows here.

🔦 In This Issue

🌟 The “next Einstein”: Sabrina Gonzalez Pasterski
💔 A Note of Sincere Apology
🕯️ Echoes & Endings | Bill Moyers (1935–2025)
🎭 Upcoming gatherings for collective healing of mind, heart, and grief:
 • 🌱 Rooted Together: gentle, free virtual support — July 10
 • 🧘 Mindfulness & Grief: caregiver stress — July 11
 • 🕯️ HOPE Group: mindfulness & disability — July 26
 • 🎨 💫 Catharsis Theater: The Art of Loss & Living Through It — July 26
🕊️ The hidden grief behind America’s gun crisis
🌊 How we help at the California Grief Center

🌟 The “next Einstein”: Sabrina Gonzalez Pasterski

Sabrina Gonzalez Pasterski smiling in the open cockpit of a small aircraft, wearing a red and white jacket, under a partly cloudy blue sky.

Sabrina Gonzalez Pasterski, pioneering physicist and pilot, beams from the cockpit of her plane — a reminder of how brilliance often soars beyond one field.

This week, we lift up the extraordinary mind and spirit of Sabrina Gonzalez Pasterski, often called “the next Einstein.” A Cuban-American physicist, Sabrina soared through MIT with a flawless 5.0 GPA, then earned her PhD at Harvard, exploring black holes, quantum gravity, and the edges of spacetime — territory few dare to tread.

By 14, she’d already built and flown her own single-engine airplane. By her twenties, her work was cited by Stephen Hawking. And through it all, she’s opened doors for countless young women and underrepresented voices to see themselves as scientists, builders, and explorers.

We honor Sabrina not only for her brilliance but for her fortitude — her refusal to shrink before barriers, her quiet courage in helping others see what’s possible. May we celebrate her, support her, and keep the path she’s blazing wide open for many more to walk.

💔 A Note of Sincere Apology

Kamala Harris and Doug Emhoff seen from behind on a balcony at night, watching fireworks light up the sky in red. Doug has his arm around Kamala’s shoulders.

Kamala Harris and Doug Emhoff watching fireworks on July 4th — standing together, even when things are hard.

Dear friends,

I want to offer a heartfelt apology for last week’s wording that startled many of you. In trying to honor Kamala Harris with a metaphor about collective grief, my phrasing was easily misunderstood — it sounded as if she had died.

I’m deeply sorry for the confusion and distress this caused. It was never my intention to mislead or to add more grief to already heavy hearts. In trying to speak poetically about the loss of fragile hopes, I caused harm instead. I truly regret that, and I’m very sorry.

Going forward, I promise to be more careful with language — especially around matters as tender as life and death — so we can continue building trust, care, and clarity here together.

Thank you for your understanding and for extending grace as we navigate these profound subjects. I’m grateful to walk this path alongside each of you.

With humility and care,
Brian

A Bluesky post by Kamala Harris. Text reads: “This Fourth of July, I am taking a moment to reflect. Things are hard right now. They are probably going to get worse before they get better. But I love our country — and when you love something, you fight for it. Together, we will continue to fight for the ideals of our nation.” Below, a photo shows Kamala Harris and Doug Emhoff from behind on a balcony at night. Doug’s arm is around Kamala’s shoulders as they watch red fireworks burst in the sky.

“Together, we will continue to fight for the ideals of our nation.” — Kamala Harris

🕯️ Echoes & Endings | Bill Moyers (1934-2025)

Bill Moyers, older man with silver hair and glasses, wearing a brown plaid suit and red striped tie, stands with arms crossed against a dark background, looking thoughtfully at the camera.

Bill Moyers — journalist, truth-teller, and conscience of a nation.

Most obituaries called Bill Moyers a “secular preacher.” They listed his Emmys, his talks with poets and prophets, his years urging Lyndon Johnson on the Great Society. They named him the conscience of public television.

But many missed his grief — over what America was becoming. In his final years, Bill raged, tenderly, against the corruption hollowing out democracy. Against media choosing profit over truth. Against the creeping numbness that lets it all slide.

He knew something essential to grief work: that telling the hard, shameful stories — about money’s grip on politics, violence, who gets left behind — might “burn through our civic shamelessness and set fire to American pride.” He believed journalism could still save us. And he kept fighting for it, deep into his 80s.

Bill once called corruption “a totality of governance — a mafia manifesto affixed to public life.” It broke his heart. But never his hope.

Maybe the best way to honor him isn’t solemn words, but by insisting on moral clarity. By refusing to numb out. By paying attention, speaking up, standing with the vulnerable.

By doing the work — right here, in this bruised, beautiful country he loved so fiercely.

🎭 Upcoming Gatherings

🌱 Rooted Together: Free Virtual Support for Communities in Crisis
A gentle space for collective wounds.

“Banner for NASW’s ‘Rooted Together,’ a virtual support space for communities in crisis. Shows illustrated hands of diverse skin tones intertwined, with flowers and leaves in the background. Text reads: ‘Rooted Together. A Support Space for Communities in Crisis. Every Thursday | 12PM - 1PM PST | Zoom.’”

Rooted Together — gentle support for collective wounds.

📅 Thursday, July 10 | 12–1 PM PT / 3–4 PM ET | Virtual
For anyone impacted by immigration threats, state violence, or shared grief.
Facilitated by Brian Stefan, LCSW.
Hosted by NASW-CA.

🧘 Holding Space: Monthly Mindfulness & Self-Care Virtual Event

“Logo of NASW California, featuring interlocking green, blue, and navy hands forming a sphere next to the text ‘nasw CALIFORNIA.’”

The National Association of Social Workers (NASW)

📅 Friday, July 11 | 12–1:30 PM PT / 3–4:30 PM ET | Virtual
With Brian Stefan, LCSW & Marcia T. Leftwich.
Practical tools & gentle community for those carrying others.
Hosted by NASW-CA.

🕯️ Mindfulness for When It Hurts: July HOPE Gathering

“Graphic with the words ‘HOPE Group: Healing Ourselves through the Present Experience’ in colorful, elegant fonts, above a green leafy branch illustration on a light background.”

HOPE for all.

💛 HOPE: Mindfulness & Gentle Healing for Deep Suffering
📅 Saturday, July 26 | 10–11:30 AM PT / 1–2:30 PM ET | Virtual
This month’s theme: disability & change, with guests from ArtsUP! LA.
Includes meditation, a short teaching, open sharing, and a grounding ritual.
✨ Donation-based (dana: pay what you can, from the heart).

💫 Catharsis Theater: The Art of Loss & Living Through It

“Lobby of The Blue Door Theater in Culver City, Los Angeles, CA, featuring a blue stage curtain with gold fringe, a framed theater poster on the wall, modern pendant lights, a patterned bench, and a small kitchenette area to the right.”

Beyond the blue curtain, a place for courage, catharsis, and gentle relief.

🎭 Explore your grief. Nurture your creativity.
🌊 Artists coming together — tender, brave, alive.

📅 Saturday, July 26 | 1–4:30 PM | Blue Door Theater, Culver City
🎟️ ~40 spots | Tiered pricing to fit different needs

Not therapy. Not a performance.
No diagnosis. No treatment.
Voluntary. Trauma-informed. Held by trained facilitators.

Being an artist is hard — and grieving makes it harder.
Together, we’ll make space for it all.

Who is this for?
Actors, dancers, singers, directors.
Comedians, poets, drag performers, musicians.
Writers, painters, designers, tattoo artists.
Photographers, sculptors, circus & street artists.
Anyone who calls themselves an artist — in work or in soul.

What you’ll experience:
✨ Exploring the “here & now” of your grief
✨ Somatic tools to ease the body’s pain
✨ Group processes that remind you you’re not alone
✨ Playing with spirit animals, wisdom figures, lost or beloved characters
✨ Leaving with more courage, possibility, and creative breath

💗 ~40 spots keep it intimate.
🤝 Shaped by the collective heart.

“Our creativity is a living thing. It needs care, risk, and tenderness — especially in times of loss.”

🌊 👉 Join us to tend your grief, nurture your artistry, and rediscover the wild, resilient spark inside you.

✅ By registering, you agree to protect the emotional safety & confidentiality of everyone present. Participation is always voluntary.

🕊️ The Hidden Grief Behind America’s Gun Crisis

“Black and white photo of a single empty wooden chair, softly lit against a plain background, symbolizing absence, memory, and quiet grief.”

An empty chair, quietly holding space for all we’ve lost — and all we still carry.

A new report shared by The Seattle Times reveals a heartbreaking milestone: in 2023, more people in the U.S. died by gun suicide than in any year on record. Nearly 60% of all gun deaths last year were suicides. That’s 27,300 lives — fathers, mothers, friends, children — whose pain ended in silence, leaving ripples of grief through countless families and communities.

Gun suicides aren’t just numbers. They’re stories abruptly cut off, rooms left quiet, birthdays forever missing someone. They remind us that grief is not only about the loss that happens to us, but also about the losses that come from despair — when someone we love couldn’t see another way to go on.

What’s especially wrenching: for the fourth year in a row, guns were the leading cause of death for youth under 17. Among Black youth, the gun suicide rate has more than tripled since 2014. These are futures we’ll never know: poems unwritten, dances undanced, love never given.

At the California Grief Center, we hold space for all these heartbreaks — the seen and unseen, the sudden and the long-building. If you or someone you love is struggling, or if you’re carrying the weight of a suicide loss, know you’re not alone. Grief deserves community. Pain deserves witnesses. Healing begins there.

If this topic brings up hard feelings, please take care and reach out: call 988 or lean on trusted people. And if you ever want to explore grief, loss, or the ache of loving in a difficult world, we’re here.

🌊 California Grief Center

“Smiling bald man, Brian Stefan, with a beard wearing a suit jacket and open-collar shirt, pictured against a light blue background.”

Brian Stefan, LCSW
Founder, California Grief Center

Grief isn’t a problem to fix.
It’s a truth to honor — together.

💬 We support individuals navigating loss, as well as families who want to heal side by side.
👥 Grief groups create spaces of shared understanding, offered online and in-person.
🎭 Catharsis Theater invites you to explore your story, your body, and your grief in community.

“Circle of assorted rocks on a white surface, each unique in shape and color, arranged after the 37th Catharsis Theater for Grief & Loss on July 6 in Los Angeles — chosen as small anchors of remembrance.”

Some of my most prized possessions from the past three years. From our 37th Catharsis Theater for Grief & Loss on July 6 at the Blue Door Theater in Los Angeles. Each rock is chosen at the close — a small anchor of remembrance, carried forward.

We walk alongside people across the country, virtually and in local gatherings, wherever sorrow needs tending.

✨ Always free consultations.
Reach out when you’re ready.

💛 With heart,
Brian Stefan, LCSW
Founder, California Grief Center
🕊️ Facing the hurt — together.

✅ P.S.
Know someone quietly grieving?
👉 Forward this letter. Everyone belongs.
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“Logo of the California Grief Center featuring a stylized ocean wave in light and dark blue, encircled by a blue ring with the words ‘California Grief Center’ in white capital letters.”

Facing the hurt — together.