Welcome to the Reimagine Blog

Meggan Roxanne built The Good Quote out of other people’s words. Then her mother was diagnosed with stage four cancer and she wrote her own. She opens the Reimagine Summit on October 15 with a fireside chat about the long afterward.

Kelly Cervantes was afraid healing meant forgetting her daughter. She and Miguel Cervantes join Colin Campbell on the Summit Main Stage for Love Lives On, a conversation about what stays after a child dies, and about moving forward while remembering.

Grief is not only a state of mind. It shows up in the jaw, the sleep, the appetite, often before there are words for it. A look at the four hands-on Embodied Practices sessions at the Reimagine Summit on October 15. No experience needed, cameras optional.

Battery Powered has awarded Reimagine $128,600 under its Combating Loneliness theme. Why we applied, what the funding makes possible over the next two years, and a thank you to everyone who has ever shown up for this work.

Keltie Knight, the Emmy-winning E! host and LadyGang co-host, on grieving a loss she chose. She joins Marisa Renee Lee and Lisa Keefauver on Every Body at the Reimagine Summit, a Main Stage conversation about the body, illness and identity.

What Reimagine board member Sue Moldaw discovered when she began singing at seventy-two.

The Conversations track is eight sessions on the losses that never had a funeral. Bereavement, relationship loss, caregiving, aging, political grief, identity and regret. You do not have to talk, and you do not have to decide whether yours counts.

Dr. Mary-Frances O'Connor came to Reimagine to celebrate the paperback release of The Grieving Body. What followed was an hour on what loss does to the heart, the lungs and the immune system — and what it asks of us in return. What does your body know?

Some griefs can't be fixed, only held. We gathered with the writer Emily Rapp Black, the palliative care physician Dr. Sunita Puri, and musicians Vuyo Sotashe and Chris Pattishall to ask what you actually say to someone whose life has broken open.

Some pain is too big to hold alone. We came together with healers, artists, and activists to grieve what needs grieving, to sit with one another in the dark, and to ask a single question: How can our grief and pain become a source of power and love?

Most of what gets said about grief is about the beginning of it. The shock, the fog, the casseroles, the first unbearable weeks. There is far less language for what comes later, for the quieter territory on the far side of that first sorrow, when the heaviest weight begins to lift and life, almost without permission, starts to expand again.

For people whose mothers have died, whose mothers were complicated or harmful, who lost children of their own, who longed for motherhood and could not reach it, who are mothering people separated from them by borders or war, the day arrives like a wound reopened.