Grief as Initiation
- Cadence Moffat McCann

- 6 days ago
- 3 min read
What our culture has forgotten about grief, thresholds, and becoming fully human

The moment you hear the news that someone you love has died, or you receive a life-changing diagnosis, everything changes.
Your whole world flips upside down. Priorities shift. The future you imagined disappears, and suddenly everything looks and feels different. Fear, shock, confusion, and grief often arrive all at once. It can be an incredibly overwhelming time, especially when there is so little support or understanding of what is actually happening.
In cultures with intact rites of passage, elders knew that initiation was necessary. They created ceremonies that helped young people cross the threshold into adulthood, held by community and guided by those who had come before them. These rites weren’t simply about reaching a certain age. They were about helping someone leave behind an old way of being so they could step into greater maturity, responsibility, and belonging within the community.
Many of these cultural practices have been lost.
Without them, we are often left to stumble through our deepest transformations alone. Instead of being intentionally initiated by our communities, we are initiated by life itself.
The death of someone we love. A serious illness. The end of a marriage. Becoming a parent. Losing a career or a sense of identity. These experiences sever us from the life we once knew and bring us into unfamiliar territory. Whether we choose them or not, they ask us to let go of who we have been so that something new can emerge.
In this way, grief can become a catalyst for initiation.
A typical initiation journey has three parts: severance, liminality, and return.
Severance is the moment we are separated from the life we once knew. Sometimes we choose it but oftentimes, it chooses us.
Liminality is the in-between place. It is where what once felt familiar no longer fits, but what comes next has not yet taken shape. It is a place of uncertainty, disorientation, and vulnerability. Time seems to stretch differently here. We don’t know how long we’ll remain, and there is no clear path ahead.
This is where many people find themselves after a significant loss.
It is also where our culture struggles the most. We want to fix grief, escape it, or move past it as quickly as possible. We expect ourselves—and each other—to return to normal, as though nothing has changed.
But something has changed.
Liminality asks something different of us. It asks us to remain present to what is unfolding, even when we cannot yet make sense of it. It asks us to trust that we are in the process of becoming, even when we cannot yet see where that will lead.
When grief is met with enough support, this liminal space can become fertile ground.
Not because grief is a gift or because suffering is inherently good, but because something in us is slowly being reshaped. Our values and priorities shift. Our relationships change. We become more tender, more discerning, more aware of what truly matters.
The question, then, is not whether grief has changed us. The question is whether we have the support to move through that change in a way that transforms us rather than leaves us stuck within it.
Perhaps, this is why accompaniment matters.
Initiation was never meant to happen alone. Traditionally, there were elders, guides, and community who understood what was happening—people who could help make meaning of the process, tend the fire, and remain present when things felt most challenging.
Today, many of us move through our deepest losses in isolation. We are expected to hold ourselves together, return to work, and find our own way through experiences that fundamentally alter who we are.
I believe we still need accompaniment. Not someone to rescue us or tell us how to heal, but someone who can walk beside us with steadiness and compassion. Someone who can help us stay present to the mystery of what is unfolding without rushing us toward an outcome.
Grief may be what brings us to the threshold. But it is relationship—with people, with place, and with the living world—that helps us cross it.
Because the invitation isn’t to become who you were before.
It is to discover who you are becoming.
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If you’re finding yourself in one of life’s thresholds, I currently have space for a small number of one-to-one sessions. You can learn more here → innercadence.com
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