A culture as ostensibly committed to individual happiness and wellbeing as ours has a difficult time making sense of loss. It is worth considering whether we are even capable of the kind of grieving that lets blood from the chiseled stone of “wellness,” the kind of grieving that resolves into a truer orientation to self and society, regardless of whether it is a happy one. Scientists, therapists, life-coaches, even our profit-seeking bosses implore us to bereave our losses, feel our feelings, live our truths. Grieve, but go back to work on Monday; mourn, but do not lose yourselves in your mourning. It is as if everyone who has a credential to give advice is now of the opinion that grief should not be transformational, that it is an unfortunate, if unavoidable, digression from the business of living well. On such a view, the person who loses themselves completely in grieving, who lets their entire life be consumed by it, appears as if they simply do not know how to do it healthily. They appear unaware that the point of grieving is to emerge out of it harder, better, faster, stronger than when one began. Choose the method that works for you: read the Nature article about the brain chemistry of grief; keep a diary as you journey through its five distinct stages; study the seven habits of highly effective mourners; and so on. But what if, in the course of their grief, the person becomes so immersed that they cannot extricate themselves from it? What of that soul who does not know how to grieve properly, who perhaps refuses to learn, who experiments with different ways of grieving, not in order to come out of it improved, but to do their utmost by the departed?