Here’s something you may not know about me.
Classmates voted me “Most Likely to Succeed” and “Most Talkative” in our 1979 high school yearbook. (Please keep reading and skip the math).
Optimism, a passion for communication, and a strong work ethic have served me well in this life. But 2025 ushered in a more somber “senior superlative” moment. Thankfully, I listened.
Why does this matter?
Grief remains an unpopular topic in Western culture, yet it deserves recognition. And, if these grief management strategies prevent just one additional week of pain, profit loss, or suffering in your business and personal life, they will be worth doing.
And they will last longer than fancy chocolates or sickly sweet eggnog.
As I approach my 25th business anniversary, I am experiencing grief in many forms:
- Estrangement from a very close friend.
- The demise of old business models to AI.
- Putting “pause” on my podcast (for now).
- Witnessing senseless violence across the globe.
- A rapid decay in social norms and civility. See this sign below? The poster appeared in two different healthcare offices this month:
The air feels heavy at times.
I once considered grief a personal rite of passage for adults. Something to process in the privacy of my home.
Now it’s ubiquitous.
Grief permeates our delicate USA democracy. Whether we work for a Federal agency, an NGO, or a for-profit company, we share a visceral emotional response to losing competent leaders. Their absence leads to market position erosion, lower profits (long term), core customer defection, and teetering brand trust.
Who else feels it? My peers and clients. Full time professionals are grieving job loss, job security, economic stability, and a manageable pace of change.
Investors are grieving, too. Examples: Disney+ tried to grow and scale, but could not keep pace with competitors. CEO Bob Iger occupied the hot seat after reporting a $1.7B billion loss. Former chip juggernaut Intel? A $1.2B shortfall due to slow innovation and complacency. Ford suffered a $900M loss after multiple EV production setbacks and soaring raw material costs. Target, Cracker Barrel, and Lululemon face their share of customer churn and executive turnover, too.
How does it affect you as a leader? Boards expect you to perform magic tricks. To pick up the pieces, re-engage teams, and re-launch a vibrant culture. Just be positive, dammit! Yet a throbbing pain of loss greets us at every turn.
Here’s my theory on the root cause—and how we can address it.
For decades, we’ve been taught how to acquire—objects, experiences, friends, spouse(s), and attention. Marketing has reinforced the belief that fulfillment comes from more!
Not necessarily better. Not life-affirming. Just more.
Yet, as John James and Russell Friedman remind us in The Grief Recovery Handbook, nobody taught us what to do when we lose what matters.
We are left alone to build our own playbook–one that acknowledges solitude and allows time to grieve. Not one that suppresses or denies it.
Despite our AI-fueled access to mountains of data and information, we perpetuate myths about grief that do not serve our organizations. We are missing out on the wisdom of grief. I have witnessed these myths first-hand with clients and colleagues. I hope you will help me debunk them:
1. “Smile your way through the pain and stay positive.”
Some organizations stigmatize sadness. Forced positivity erodes trust. People can sense when leaders are performing.
I saw this first hand during a leadership conference in Nashville. A well-known nonprofit executive told us that CEOs should always be positive and smile.
Phoniness only accomplishes one thing: it amplifies the BS meter volume. You open the door for declining stakeholder trust and engagement scores.
2. “Get busy. Distract yourself so that you can heal.”
Busyness masks avoidance.
When the going gets tough, people with avoidant tendencies overcommit. They skip hard conversations by filling their calendar. I grew up with family members and a partner who fit this description.
This behavior is a surefire way to build emotional walls and repel intimacy. Yet superficial relationships seldom help us through crises.
3. “Grieve alone and don’t burden others.”
We are genetically wired for connection. Trusted peers—inside or outside organizations—help us process loss and imagine new futures. Yet how many employers offer career loss support groups versus anodyne outplacement factories?
And most employers fall short on creating communities and spaces to heal, grieve, and recover from career setbacks. It’s more like “box your things and get out of our building.”
Strong networks are essential for human longevity, as proven in Dan Buettner’s Blue Zones longitudinal research. In the Live Well Be Well podcast with Sarah Ann Macklin, Buettner says “We need to shift the focus from trying to change our behavior to changing our environment.” Living in vibrant, caring communities is the number one predictor of longevity—not electrodes and diet supplements (sorry, Bryan Johnson).
Never fear–this post is not intended to throw a wet blanket on your holidays. Stick with me until the end.
Pause for one moment and ask yourself: What are you grieving right now? How might you process grief to feel more whole, release the past, and design a better future?
Here’s my suggestion. Write a completion letter. Use a pen and paper, not your laptop or phone. The visceral experience of writing triggers something in your brain’s RAS – reticular activation system. Typing and texting fall short here.
Use the letter to say adios to 2025. You can also dedicate the letter to someone you loved and lost, a coworker affected by a layoff, or to your job that a robot or chatbot replaced.
The body of the letter can include:
- A list of apologies for any unmet expectations (such as “I never rewrote my stale LinkedIn profile” or “I never told you how much I valued the annual sales kickoff meetings”).
- A list of the people or the actions you forgive (those who contributed to the loss).
- A complete list of things for which you are grateful: lessons learned, experiences gained, new courses completed, new relationships, new health breakthroughs.
- Then—close the letter with “Thank you (name of the loss). And now, goodbye.” This exact language releases your attachment to the past.
Your loving farewell has begun, and grief has a chance to eventually leave the building (your brain and limbic system).
To summarize, grief occupies boardrooms and bedrooms equally. The sooner we acknowledge it; the sooner the intense suffering can subside.
Who’s with me?
In Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change, Pema Chodron wrote:
“In 2000, the elders of the Hopi Nation made a prediction about the future and offered advice on how to live in the upcoming millennium…They said that we were now in a fast-flowing river, and that many of us would be afraid and try to cling to the shore. But those who cling to the shore, they said, will suffer greatly.’ The (elders’) advice was to let go of the shore and push off into the middle of the river, see who was there with us, and ‘celebrate.’”
See you in the river. Together, let’s welcome this season of grieving.
May your goodbye letter unlock a richer, more loving world in 2026.
This post was completely written by me — a human. I did not use generative AI.
© 2026, Lisa Nirell. All rights reserved. lisanirell.com.