by Ligia Houben | May 20, 2025 | Blog US
Showing up—for your life, your work, your healing—can be deeply challenging.
Especially when you’re grieving. Especially when you’re moving through a painful life transition that no one else sees… because the pain lives quietly inside you.
No one may know what you’re carrying—but you know.
And still, you show up.
You show up when your heart is heavy.
When simply getting dressed feels like an effort.
When you answer emails with a lump in your throat, or take care of others while silently tending to your own wounds.
Some days, you may have told yourself you’d take five steps, and you only managed two. But those two steps? They matter. That’s still movement. That’s still progress. That’s still resilience.
Because resilience doesn’t always roar.
It isn’t always bold or visible.
Resilience is often quiet, almost invisible.
It looks like continuing, even when the future feels uncertain.
It looks like choosing presence, even when you feel disconnected.
It looks like not giving up on yourself—even when you’re exhausted.
Showing up doesn’t mean pretending everything is fine.
It doesn’t mean pushing through or silencing your pain.
It means choosing to honor your truth.
It means whispering to yourself, “I’m here. I’m doing the best I can today.”
Sometimes, showing up means:
Saying “no” when your body or soul needs rest
Reaching out to a trusted friend, even when words feel hard to find
Taking a deep breath before entering a room where you feel unseen
Crying in the car and still showing up for someone who depends on you
Sitting with your pain instead of running from it
And sometimes, showing up means pausing.
It means choosing stillness.
It means saying, “I can’t today… and that’s okay too.”
This too is part of healing.
This too is strength.
So if you’re in the middle of something hard—grief, loss, transition, heartbreak—know this:
Every time you choose to show up, in whatever way you can, you are practicing deep self-love.
You are honoring your humanity.
You are rebuilding, gently… from the inside out.
And that matters. More than you know.
Ligia M. Houben
by Ligia Houben | May 13, 2025 | Blog US
Grief often arrives wrapped in silence.
It’s not just the absence of someone we love—it’s also the emotional distance that follows. Many people navigating loss struggle to name what they’re feeling. Is it sadness? Emptiness? Or something deeper?
Often, it’s loneliness.
In this article, I want to explore the difference between loneliness, solitude, and isolation, and how each of these can shape your experience of grief. I’ll also share practical steps to gently reconnect—with yourself and others—at your own pace.
Loneliness in Grief
Grief creates an invisible space between us and the world. Even when we’re surrounded by people, we can feel deeply alone. This isn’t just sadness—it’s an ache to be seen, to be understood by someone who is no longer here.
Clients often share phrases like:
“I feel invisible.”
“No one truly understands me.”
That’s loneliness speaking—and it’s okay to name it. Naming it is the first step toward healing.
But loneliness left unacknowledged can deepen emotional pain, slow the healing process, and in some cases, lead to depression or complicated grief. That’s why it’s essential to differentiate between types of alone-ness—particularly solitude and isolation.
Solitude vs. Isolation
Though they may look alike from the outside, solitude and isolation are very different experiences.
Solitude is intentional. It’s a choice—a sacred space to breathe, process, and reconnect with your inner world.
Isolation is avoidance. It’s a shutting down, a pulling away from life out of fear, pain, or numbness.
Solitude can be healing. Isolation can be harmful.
Healthy Solitude Might Look Like:
Journaling your emotions
Praying or meditating
Taking a walk in nature
Creating something with your hands—painting, music, writing
Sitting in silence and allowing your feelings to arise
Isolation Might Look Like:
Ignoring phone calls or messages
Staying in bed all day without motivation
Avoiding once-meaningful activities
Saying “I’m fine” when you’re not, and pushing others away
How to Recognize the Difference
If you’re wondering where you are on this spectrum, ask yourself:
Am I choosing this time alone, or am I hiding?
Do I feel more restored or more empty afterward?
Have I gone days without any meaningful connection?
Solitude brings a sense of peace. Isolation often brings more heaviness.
Pay attention—not to judge yourself—but to gently become more aware of your needs.
Steps to Reconnect Without Feeling Overwhelmed
Reconnection doesn’t have to be big or dramatic. It begins with a whisper, not a shout. Here are some gentle ways to begin:
Reach out to one safe person—just for a walk or a short conversation.
Join a support circle, in person or online, where your grief can be seen and honored.
Create a ritual of connection: light a candle, write a letter to your loved one, then call someone who cares.
Move your body for 20 minutes—outside if possible.
Say yes to help, even if it feels uncomfortable.
You don’t have to rejoin the world all at once. One small step is enough.
And if you feel stuck, please remember: you are not alone.
Final Thoughts
As you move through grief, give yourself permission to feel lonely—but don’t stay there.
Allow solitude to be a space of healing. And as you’re ready, begin to release isolation. Because healing doesn’t happen in separation. It happens in connection—with others, with meaning, and with love.
If this message resonated with you, I invite you to download my free guide, “11 Myths & Realities Regarding Loss: Guidelines for Coping and Transforming a Loss,” at this page, ligiahouben.com, or send me an email @info@ligiahouben.com to join our next grief support circle.
You don’t have to walk this path alone.
Grief is a journey,
and healing is possible—
one moment, one breath,
one step at a time.
This blog was taken from my podcast Transforming Grief.
From my heart to yours,
Ligia M. Houben
by Ligia Houben | May 6, 2025 | Blog US
Some professional relationships transcend time. They become part of your story—shaping how you serve, grow, and give back. This is how I feel about my connection with Max Rothman and the Alliance for Aging.
Over two decades ago, I was immersed in my gerontology program at Florida International University, working as a teaching assistant to Pamela Elfenbein, who taught the gerontology courses at the Center on Aging. It was an enriching and memorable experience—we even collaborated on creating a multidisciplinary guide for older adults. I still have the manual, a meaningful reminder of that chapter in my life.
The director of the Center back then was Max Rothman, a brilliant, deeply respected leader in the field of aging. His wisdom, vision, and warmth left a profound impression on me, and I’ve always admired the way he advocates for older adults with both expertise and heart.
Our paths reconnected in 2008 when I began collaborating with Max through the Alliance for Aging, where he now serves as CEO. Since then, I’ve had the honor of working with the Alliance on several community initiatives. Their support has made possible:
Live Long and Learn: Bilingual (English and Spanish) programs born during the pandemic to accompany older adults through connection, education, and resilience while in isolation.
Transforming Grief and Loss: Eight-week programs based on my methodology “The 11 Principles of Transformation®” held at The Center for Transforming Lives, offering compassionate support and tools to navigate grief and transitions.
Most recently, I had the privilege of attending the Alliance or Aging’s 2025 conference, The New Face of Aging and the Art of Happiness. It was an inspiring event that highlighted the evolving needs, voices, and strengths of our older population. Being there reminded me just how visionary and essential the Alliance’s work is—and how Max continues to lead with extraordinary integrity and purpose.
To Max, thank you for your leadership and for always making space for meaningful collaborations. And to the entire Alliance team—thank you for your dedication to empowering lives with dignity, care, and compassion.
With gratitude,
Ligia M. Houben
Thanatologist | Author | Life Transitions Coach
Founder, The Center for Transforming Lives
