This is a free preview of a paid episode. To hear more, visit moonshotmentor.substack.com

It’s been two months since my little dog Roo died. Not exactly a strong hook for a post about career strategy. But I feel compelled to share this personal information because life keeps on life-ing despite the plans we make for our professional lives. And I think it’s important to make that okay and carve out space.

I think most of us are pretty good at holding boundaries when a personal commitment pops up — a friend comes into town, your kids soccer game, a graduation ceremony. We step away, take a day or two, and then we return.

But what happens when it’s not a “one and done” thing? What happens in the weeks and months that follow, when you’re still grieving, but the world assumes you’re back to normal?

In our society, you’re often given a weekend, maybe a few days, to attend a memorial service or sit shiva. Then there’s an unspoken expectation that the mourning period is over and you can get back to work.

Well, grief doesn’t work on a capitalist timetable. It works uniquely on yours. And in those early days and weeks — sometimes the first year — you may look fine on the outside but feel completely dismantled on the inside.

Roo’s Story

It was a Tuesday when Roo started to cough-hack every few hours. I thought it was allergies, or maybe he wasn’t drinking enough water. By Friday, he was only eating once per day, lethargic, and his breathing had become “panty.” I googled his symptoms and got the range of a respiratory infection all the way to cancer. But I held out hope that he would get better with my TLC.

On Sunday morning, I called the emergency hospital and asked if his symptoms warranted going in. They said to bring him in immediately. When we arrived, a crew of three technicians ran out the back and took him from my arms. A half hour later the vet told us it was congestive heart failure and all we could do was make him comfortable. They gave him diuretics and oxygen and we brought him home.

He rebounded for about a day, but his breath rate started to climb and I knew it was time. I can’t say the words let alone write them. Maybe enough time hasn’t gone by.

Roo died on Wednesday, August 20 at 3:15 pm PST. He was surrounded by his family, wrapped in his favorite blanket.

Grief and Work

It’s been surreal mourning while being a grief coach. I know so much, and it changes nothing. Maybe it changes the naming — I can watch myself from a distance and say, “Oh, I’m in the raw and tender stage.” The stage where everything is a first: the first dinner without him, the first night without him, the first morning, the first time watching TV. He really loved our couch time. I would say, “Roo it’s time!” He would run across the foyer, leap into our sunken living room, and hop on the coach. His little head poking over the pillows watching me make my way.

There is no “hardest.” It’s all hard.

And then work comes knocking at the door. What to do?

I gave myself some space. The day after he died, I didn’t — I worked, because I needed a break from my crying so hard my entire face was swollen. Then I took a few days off. Then eased back in. Ten days later, I was fully back in my desk chair. My head and heart were not.

Did I make the wrong decision? I don’t know. I do know that staying connected to something I love — client work — has been very helpful. The giant hole in my soul is soothed by helping others. But not all the time. I cancelled three times on one client because I couldn’t be present. She’s also an animal lover who has lost many pets so I knew she would truly understand, and she did.

This is the reality of grief at work. It doesn’t disappear after a weekend. And while jobs and bills demand that we show up, we also have to be vigilant and compassionate with ourselves. If we don’t find ways to care for ourselves, burnout will bite us. Hard.

Practical Guidance: How to Work While Grieving

In the early days after Roo died, I found myself swinging between extremes. One day I would bury myself in work because I needed relief from my sadness. The next, I couldn’t face my laptop at all. Both choices were valid. Grief isn’t linear — and neither is our ability to work through it.

If you’re facing a similar season, here are a few ways to navigate work in those first weeks and months:

* Adjust your expectations. Productivity won’t look the same. Instead of aiming for your usual capacity, ask: What’s essential today? What can wait? Shrinking the list gives you a greater chance of following through without burning out.

* Communicate with care. Whether it’s your boss, your team, or a client, a simple message like, “I may need extra flexibility this week,” can make all the difference. But also remember: colleagues and clients are not your therapist or coach. Expecting them to fully understand your experience after a few weeks may set you both up for disappointment. Find support outside of work — friends, family, a counselor, or a support group — where your grief can be fully witnessed.

* Build in recovery time. Grief is exhausting. Even short breaks to step outside, stretch, or sit in silence can help your nervous system reset. Think of it as scheduling grief alongside your meetings.

* Anchor in what feels nourishing. Whether it’s a hot cup of cocoa, getting your nails done, treating yourself to lunch out, or listening to music on your commute — give yourself extra time and care for those small pleasures. They’re not frivolous. They’re ways of replenishing yourself when so much feels depleted.

* Carry a keepsake. Sometimes pretending you’re not grieving while you’re on the job is more dysregulating than quietly acknowledging it. Having a small memento — a piece of jewelry, a photo, a favorite pen, or any object tied to your loved one — can provide comfort. Holding onto something tangible is a healthy way to feel a continued bond, a reminder you’re not carrying your loss alone.

The truth is, there’s no single formula. Working while grieving is about tending to both sides of the equation: the professional obligations you must meet and the human need for gentleness. Hold them together with vigilance and compassion, and you’ll find your way through.

Related Content

* Is Grief Holding Me Back?

* How Can Grief Boulders Turn To Butterflies?

* Are There Grief Rules?

Perks for Paid Subscribers

Moonshot Mentor paid subscribers get weekly journal prompts to spark personal and professional growth, guided meditations to help them center, reflect, and reset, plus exclusive career development and career grief workshops that build clarity, resilience, and momentum.

Here are three journal prompts for paid Moonshot Mentor subscribers. These are designed to help you reflect on how to navigate the tension between grief and productivity in your own life.

What If Grief Doesn’t End on Monday? 🗓️