GUEST RESOURCES: 

Dr. Zoe Shaw

Website| drzoeshaw.com

IG | @drzoeshaw

RESOURCES:

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network

In this pilot episode of Grief is a language, host John Onwuchekwa welcomes Dr. Zoe Shaw to unveil the complex landscape of grief, offering a transformative perspective on emotional healing. 

Dr. Zoe highlights complex shame as a deeply personal experience that goes beyond traditional understanding, revealing how trauma and unresolved guilt intertwine with identity. Grief is described as a non-linear journey that cannot be outrun—but must be embraced with vulnerability and self-compassion. Together, Dr. Zoe and John explore how individuals can recognize and process their deepest feelings. They delve into personal stories of hidden pain, demonstrating how speaking one's truth can be a powerful act of liberation.

Let’s start navigating the hard truths and use these stories to enlighten us, instead of defining us. Tune in.

KEY POINTS

00:00 – The difference between simple shame and complex shame

01:18 – How grief transforms our understanding of self

05:43 – The connection between complex shame, validation, codependency, and emotional connection

07:49 – The story behind Dr. Zoe’s work on shame and grief

10:00 – When grief becomes tied to identity

12:03 – Dr. Zoe’s personal story of shame and carrying a secret for decades

17:52 – Book discussion: You Are Your Best Thing and understanding complex shame

20:31 – How grief can create courage and the beginning of freedom 31:40 – Naming feelings and using language to separate yourself from your emotions

36:41 – Self-compassion, acknowledging feelings, and navigating emotional vulnerability

43:17 – Shame around anger, relief, joy, and societal expectations in grief

48:00 – Navigating grief through relationship dynamics and attachment styles

51:03 – How grief impacts intimate relationships and shared priorities

54:37 – Finding healing, freedom, and learning not to run from grief

56:46 – Moving from hiding to freedom through acknowledgment and expression

QUOTES 

“Grief is not something that ends. I think we can have a healthy relationship with grief.” – Dr. Zoe Shaw

“When we hide, it feels good in the moment, but it will come back to get us.” – Dr. Zoe Shaw

“Don't run. It's okay to sit and grief feels like it's this thing, this deep, dark pit that you're going to fall into that will never end.” – Dr. Zoe Shaw

“Forgiveness is giving up all hope of a better past.” – Dr. Zoe Shaw

“We talk to ourselves more than we talk to anybody else, and we talk to ourselves more than anybody talks to us.” – Dr. Zoe Shaw

GUEST RESOURCES: 

Dr. Zoe Shaw

Website| drzoeshaw.com

IG | @drzoeshaw

RESOURCES:

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network

GUEST RESOURCES: 

J.S. Park

Website | jsparkblog.com

IG | @jspark3000 

RESOURCES:

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network

Today, host John welcomes Joon Park, a hospital chaplain who has witnessed over 1,000 deaths, for an insightful conversation about being a “grief catcher.” As the author of the book "Take As Long As You Need: Permission to Grieve", Joon shares his unique approach of providing presence and space for those experiencing profound loss, emphasizing that grief is not something to be fixed but to be witnessed. He explores the complex emotional landscape of supporting individuals through their most challenging moments, revealing how chaplains create safe spaces for authentic grieving. 

Their conversation also delves into the importance of storytelling, the power of human connection, and how simply being present can be more healing than offering solutions. Joon challenges traditional notions of grief support — giving emphasis on the need to make room for all emotional responses, whether that means singing, crying, or expressing anger. 

Don't miss this powerful episode about compassion, vulnerability, and the sacred work of accompanying people through their darkest times. Discover how Grief Is A Language through the profound art of being a grief catcher and how we can all learn to support each other more meaningfully during loss.

KEY POINTS

00:00 – Joon Park’s work as a hospital chaplain and “grief catcher.”

05:29 – How Joon still finds laughter after witnessing over 1,000 deaths.

08:53 – Why grief needs presence instead of fixing.

13:06 – Walking beside someone through the darkness.

14:52 – How grief clichés can add another burden.

21:07 – Creating space for every expression of grief.

23:34 – Helping someone without trying to solve their pain.

31:29 – Why chaplains must release the need for answers.

37:29 – Making room for anger, rage and unexpected grief responses.

53:18 – Carrying the grief home and becoming a safe person.

QUOTES 

“Grief catching is also when the expressions of grief, the pain, the sorrow, the gravity of the loss, are so much that I'm vicariously absorbing all the pain that they're experiencing.” – Joon Park

“When we sit with somebody who's grieving, when we see someone's loss, it always reflects back to ourselves mortality and loss, that the abyss is really coming for us all.” – Joon Park

“The unbearable can be made slightly more bearable if you have someone to bear with you.” – Joon Park

"Every diagnosis has a name... except for loneliness." – Joon Park

“Through the gears of this machine that doesn't stop, we can find each other. We can reach through those gears, and we can stretch out our hands for one another.” – Joon Park

GUEST RESOURCES: 

J.S. Park

Website | jsparkblog.com

IG | @jspark3000 

RESOURCES:

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network 

RESOURCES:

Natalie Lauren Sims

IG | @natalielaurensims

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief is a Language™  is produced by EPYC Media Network

John shares his four-part model of grief as body language, oral language, written language, and sign language, while Nat opens up about surviving compounded loss, caring for a dying father, losing a beloved godmother to violence, and discovering that curiosity became his path forward.

Listen in as this episode is for anyone who has ever felt stuck, numb, angry, confused, or alone in their grief. More than anything, it is a reminder that grief is something you learn to speak.

KEY POINTS

- The goal of grief isn’t closure; it’s connection.

- Your body often recognizes grief before your mind does.

- Stories help us process loss because grief is ultimately about love, not just absence.

- Writing slows memory down long enough for us to make meaning from pain.

- Compounded loss can leave you feeling disconnected from your own life for years.

- Curiosity can be more powerful than answers when you're stuck in grief.

- Some grief settles into peace, while other grief remains too hot to touch.

- Radical acceptance is releasing the need to explain suffering.

QUOTES 

"Grief ain't a journey. Journey is a bad metaphor. Grief is a language. Goal of a language, not to finish, to become fluent." – John Onwuchekwa

"Curiosity has been the superpower." – Natalie Lauren Sims

"Her absence isn't the thing that causes the most suffering. It's the meaning making that I'm after." – Natalie Lauren Sims

"I would wake up and I would realize that waking up was the nightmare." – Natalie Lauren Sims

"Every celebration now has an asterisk next to it." – John Onwuchekwa

RESOURCES:

Natalie Lauren Sims

IG | @natalielaurensims

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network 

Trip Lee

IG | @triplee

RESOURCES

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network

Today, John Onwuchekwa sits down with Trip Lee, Christian rapper, singer, and preacher, for an insightful conversation. John and Trip unpack the silent weight of living with an invisible illness, especially how it steals not just energy, but dreams, identity, and certainty. 

Their conversation also explores the haunting reality of ambiguous grief and what it means to mourn a life you’re still living. Yet despite it all, Trip’s story is one of faith, creativity, and redefining strength in the face of weakness. This isn’t just a conversation about suffering—it’s a profound reflection on purpose, surrender, and the quiet courage it takes to keep going. 

Don’t miss this unforgettable dialogue that will stretch your empathy and reframe your view of resilience. Tune in now to another entry of Grief Is A Language. 

KEY POINTS

- Initial experiences: From extreme fatigue, oversleeping, to flu-like symptoms

- How chronic fatigue impacted his college and early professional years 

- Grief and health: The emotional toll of his father's death and stress on wedding plan 

- The difficulty of getting a proper diagnosis

- Challenges in maintaining relationships, work, and personal goals

- Ambition and reality: The inability to pursue dreams at full capacity

- The pressure of public perception to appear healthy & successful

- On finding hope and resilience, with vulnerability and authenticity 

- The importance of being surrounded by the right people 

- Spiritual perspective: God’s way to keep him humble and spiritually focused

QUOTES 

“My body doesn't recharge, unlike other people's bodies. I don't know how many good hours I have in any given day.” – Trip Lee

“Everything that God has called me to do, everything I desire to do, every relationship, all depends. I have to do it in this body.”  – Trip Lee

“I want to be comfortable showing up as myself.”  – Trip Lee

“My health has inoculated me from that illusion. Just because I'm good at something and I want to do something good does not mean it's going to happen.”  – Trip Lee

Trip Lee

IG | @triplee

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network

GUEST RESOURCES: 

Dr. Mary-Frances O'Connor 

Website | maryfrancesoconnor.org 

RESOURCES:

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network

In this episode of Grief Is A Language™, John Onwuchekwa sits down with renowned grief neuroscientist Dr. Mary-Frances O’Connor to explore the science of love, loss, and the grieving brain. Dr. O’Connor explains why our brains continue to expect someone after they have died, why absence can feel physically present, and how the body must learn to regulate itself without the person who once made it feel safe.

Together, they discuss the physical effects of grief, identity loss, ambiguous loss, and why grief can return differently years later. They also explore how divorce, career changes, children leaving home, and other major transitions can cause us to grieve parts of ourselves—even when no one has died.

This conversation offers a powerful reframe: grieving is a form of learning. The relationship does not simply disappear; it changes. And while loss may alter the way we carry love, it cannot erase what that love taught us.

If you have ever wondered why you still reach for someone who is gone, why grief lives in your body, or who you are when “we” becomes “me,” this episode will help you better understand what your brain, body, and heart are learning to hold.

KEY POINTS

- Grief is a dynamic process of adapting to loss

- Everlasting code as a complex internal experience of absence and presence

- Impacts of grief in physical health: increased heart attack risk and stress

- The mental loop of "would have, could have, should have"

- The evolution of grief, in personal growth and different life stages

- Repercussions of avoiding grief 

- How joy and grief can coexist

- Happiness does not dishonor the memory of a lost loved one

- Grief is a universal human experience

QUOTES 

“Grief is a form of learning. Grief is not the same as grieving.” – Dr. Mary-Frances O'Connor

“Mental health isn't about not having grief. Mental health isn't about not having bad moments. It's about having those and having all the good moments, too.” – Dr. Mary-Frances O'Connor

“Grieving is learning how to build a life again, given that this loss is true.” – Dr. Mary-Frances O'Connor

“If we neglect the body, it also has to cope with the loss of our person, and to the degree we don't understand how to bring the body into this learning process, it makes it harder to grieve.” – Dr. Mary-Frances O'Connor

“Keep listening for the joy. Keep accepting that life does have both the good times and the really bad times.” – Dr. Mary-Frances O'Connor

GUEST RESOURCES: 

Dr. Mary-Frances O'Connor 

Website | maryfrancesoconnor.org 

RESOURCES:

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network 

RESOURCES:

KevOnStage

Website | kevonstage.com

IG | @KevOnStage

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network

Together, their stories give language to the tension of loving again after loss: wanting a future, honoring the past, and wondering if anyone will truly understand the grief you still carry.

RESOURCES:

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network

In this powerful and unexpectedly funny conversation, comedian, creator, and entrepreneur KevOnStage talks about the loss of his older brother, Jason. Together, they explore why grief doesn't feel like a journey, why the popular "five stages" framework often falls short, and how loss reshapes the way we move through the world.

Kev opens up about the strange realities of sibling loss: becoming older than your older brother, reaching for your phone to text someone who's no longer here, and realizing that the world keeps moving while yours has stopped. Through humor, honesty, and profound reflection, he shares how grief altered his relationships, his trust, his career, and his understanding of love itself.

This Grief Is A Language episode unpacks what it means to learn that language through the body, memory, storytelling, laughter, tears, and community.

KEY POINTS

00:00 – John and Kev share the impact of losing their older brothers

08:26 – The unique grief of losing a sibling and how it reshapes identity

12:14 – Why the 5 stages of grief are a myth

15:14 – Grief isn't linear—it comes in waves

16:40 – Grief is a language, not a journey

19:19 – The loneliness of watching the world move on after loss

30:28 – Why your brain keeps expecting your loved one to be there

36:12 – How grief changes your relationships and sense of safety

50:16 – Why joy and grief can exist at the same time

1:07:25 – The best way to support someone who is grieving

QUOTES 

"It felt like I was taken from America, dropped in the middle of Vietnam. I don't know this language at all." – KevOnStage

"The loss is inevitable, and it is painful, but then with that loss, it's like I'm trying to find somebody that can at least be with me in this loss." – John Onwuchekwa

"I wanted the world to stop and acknowledge my personal pain."  – KevOnStage

RESOURCES:

KevOnStage

Website | kevonstage.com

IG | @KevOnStage

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network 

Both lost their spouses unexpectedly in their twenties. Both found themselves navigating a kind of grief that few people around them could understand. And both eventually faced the same impossible questions: Can you fall in love again after losing the love of your life? How do you build a future without leaving your past behind? Can your heart make room for both?

In this deeply moving conversation, Jordan and Jessica share the stories of losing Jerron and Danielle, the loneliness of becoming widowed at a young age, the awkward realities of dating after loss, and the surprising connection that changed both of their lives.

Together, they explore what it means to honor the people who shaped you while embracing the life in front of you. They discuss why grief doesn't disappear when love returns, why moving forward isn't the same as moving on, and how finding someone who spoke the same language of loss helped them feel less alone.

This episode challenges common ideas about soulmates, closure, and the "love of your life," offering a more honest picture of how love and grief can coexist.

Because sometimes healing isn't about letting go.

Sometimes healing is about finding someone who understands what you'll always carry.

KEY POINTS

00:00 – Jordan and Jessica share how they both became widowed in their twenties

04:50 – They explain why finding each other didn't bring an end to their grief

07:01 – They challenge the idea that you can only have one love of your life

10:19 – John reframes grief by encouraging people to ask about someone's love instead of only acknowledging their loss

12:38 – Jessica recounts losing Jerron just three months after they were married

26:07 – Jordan shares Danielle's cancer journey, remission, relapse, and death

36:47 – They reflect on the challenges of dating and loving again after widowhood

53:39 – They describe how meeting someone fluent in grief changed their lives

01:04:20 – They share how they honor Jerron and Danielle while raising their family together

01:06:18 – They offer advice on supporting widowed people with patience, honesty, and curiosity

QUOTES 

“Burying somebody's body doesn't mean burying their existence.” – Jordan Rice

“Grief hadn't done something to me, [it] had enlarged my life and had created a whole new Jordan that created space for new levels of intimacy and connection.” – Jordan Rice

“I think there's something about the loss of a spouse that is particularly painful and nuanced in a way where the grief is almost the only thing that remains, not that person.” – Jessica Rice

“I never thought that I could feel the depth of what I was feeling for anybody new.” – Jordan Rice

“We're madly in love with each other. Our hearts have expanded to allow for that. It's not like we came in and replaced the other person.” – Jessica Rice 

RESOURCES:

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network 

What’s up y’all,

So I was supposed to send this a few days ago. But…procrastination. So, thank you for your patience.

In some way, shape, or form, you’ve supported the work I’ve been trying to do these past few years, which is helping people become more fluent in grief. Maybe you caught a We Go On Tour stop, heard me preach, came across something online, or read a few words I’ve written. However you found your way to me and this work, I’m eternally grateful.

Tonight at 7:26pm EST, I’m premiering the first episode of a new podcast: Grief is a Language™, live on YouTube. You can keep up with updates about the podcast at GriefisaLanguage.com

Watch The Primiere on YouTube

Here’s why I wanted to do it this way instead of just putting it on a inner tube and sending it floating down social media’s lazy river.

There’s so much content constantly chasing us down around every corner. We all tend to listen or watch in passing and share clips. But we rarely get a chance to actually sit down and take something in together. Reacting to it in real time with real people. There’s something about being with people in real time that has a warming and comforting effect.

I’ll say it until I’m dead and gone. The real killer of grief isn’t the initial loss, it’s the eventual loneliness. It’s the chilling isolation that comes when you feel stranded in grief’s frigid countryside.

When we find ourselves here, we quickly realize we don’t needs answers. We need companionship. Accompaniment. The warmth of another human body. Honestly this is why we’ve never streamed any of our We Go On Tour stops online. There’s something about the embodied experience that just makes it work in a way that it can’t online.

When it comes to content this important, that require this level of warmth, it’s so difficult to do it through cold computer pixels. Feel me? Sometimes it feels like a fire place screen saver. All light, but no heat. What you quickly learn is that it doesn’t matter how high the resolution on your TV, computer or iPhone is….you can’t roast marshmallows on a fireplace screensaver.

Despite our best attempts, trying to defrost hearts that have been frostbitten by grief’s cold teeth is so hard to do online.

That’s why I’m trying to do this. I want us to be together. (Well, as together as we can be on a Sunday night all spread out)

So tonight, 7:26pm ET, we’re going to stream the first two episodes together:

Jordan & Jessica Rice: two close friends who each buried a spouse before they got their first gray hairs

KevOnStage: someone I’ve admired for a long time and we got a chance to connect in this convo through the shared experience, not just of losing an older brother, but the strange grief of growing older than him.

After tonight, the episodes will be up for you to engage with whenever it feels right for you. In the car, on your walk, while you’re vacuuming your car, or pretending to do work at your 9-5. But for these first ones, I wanted us to be in it together. Come stream it with us, and meet others in the comments who’re learning to speak this language none of us wanted to learn but all of us eventually have to.

7:26pm Eastern. YouTube. I’ll see you there.

Peace,

John O

Watch the Premiere on YouTube

Sometimes, it arrives through the death of someone we love. It may also come through divorce, illness, disappointment, loneliness, a lost future, or the painful realization that life did not unfold the way we hoped it would. Yet for something so universal, many of us struggle to find words for what we're carrying. We feel isolated in experiences that millions of people have lived before us. 

Hosted by Dr. John Onwuchekwa, Grief Is A Language podcast invites listeners into a different conversation about grief. Through honest conversations with authors, therapists, neuroscientists, artists, pastors, caregivers, widows, comedians, and everyday people, every episode explores what it means to live with loss and how learning its language can help us feel less alone.

Are you grieving someone you've lost, navigating a major life transition, supporting someone you love, or simply trying to understand your own story a little better? This podcast reminds us that grief may be universal, but it was never meant to be carried alone.

RESOURCES:

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network 

Sometimes, it arrives through the death of someone we love. It may also come through divorce, illness, disappointment, loneliness, a lost future, or the painful realization that life did not unfold the way we hoped it would. Yet for something so universal, many of us struggle to find words for what we're carrying. We feel isolated in experiences that millions of people have lived before us. 

Hosted by Dr. John Onwuchekwa, Grief Is A Language podcast invites listeners into a different conversation about grief. Through honest conversations with authors, therapists, neuroscientists, artists, pastors, caregivers, widows, comedians, and everyday people, every episode explores what it means to live with loss and how learning its language can help us feel less alone.

Are you grieving someone you've lost, navigating a major life transition, supporting someone you love, or simply trying to understand your own story a little better? This podcast reminds us that grief may be universal, but it was never meant to be carried alone.

RESOURCES:

John Onwuchekwa 

Website | johno.co 

IG | @jawn_o

Grief Is A Language is produced by EPYC Media Network 

Note to the reader: At the beginning of each year, I rerelease this exact same post. No revisions or edits outside of this introduction. Every year I reread it, I believe it more than the previous year. This is no different. I spent 9 days in Japan and came back changed in some of the best ways (more on that later). One way in particular was the need to slow down. I ended up buying a dip pen and ink and at the beginning of every journal, planner, or field notes book I have, I’m writing the same reminder. Slow Down. There is no Deadline for the person you’re becoming. As we start a new year, remember…January’s for reflecting, not resolving. This isn’t a race. There’s time to settle in. I hope you’ll feel the permission to do so. And if you’re read this post before, I hope you believe it more on the re-read. Peace.

Stay until the end….

I remember watching a post-credits movie scene for the first time. I think it was Iron Man. You know the vibe. The credits start rolling as everyone is brushing pop-corn kernels off their laps to the soundtrack of synchronized grunts from people in their 40’s (and beyond) attempting to stand. The large majority of the theater was making their way to the exit, seemingly in a rush to go somewhere.

But where? We were at the movies, and it was the last showing.

We were out.

This is where people intended to be, and the only other place to go after the movies was home. Most of the people had nowhere to be, yet they were in a rush.

It didn’t make any sense, but the collective energy was enough to pull me out of my seat towards the exit with the rest of the herd. Following the crowd felt so natural. So easy. I would’ve done it if I hadn’t heard the faint whisper of the white dude in glasses next to me.

Stay until the end…

I listened. Maybe it was because he had glasses and it was a comic book movie (and he looked like the type that would give you the backstory of the characters without taking a breath, his only pauses coming as he knuckled his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.)

There was more.

There was more. The movie wasn’t over yet. And that one scene, after an apparent conclusion, forever changed how I engaged with movies. I always stay until the end. I never form my conclusions until I see everything. Everything.

It’s been a little over two years since I made the decision to resign as a pastor after 16 years. My entire adult life (and more of my identity than I’d like to admit) was wrapped up in that job.

That title.

That position.

That calling.

December felt more like a series finale than a season finale, which made me hyper-aware of everything. I didn’t want to miss anything. I wanted to spend the month living instead of planning for what was next. Using December like that changed me. Here’s the one thing that stood out.

Most people treat the month of December like movie credits.

When December 1st starts playing, everyone begins brushing the kernels of 2025 off their laps, rushing towards the year’s exit. The constant conversation is all about what’s next. No one wants to fall behind, so everyone spends their time planning.

Reflecting.

Resolving.

Subscribe now

No one stays until the end.

The more I think about it, the more it feels absurd. It feels like a movie critic, in a rush to meet a deadline, writing a think piece about a film WHILE IT’S STILL PLAYING. 2025 was still playing, and instead of living and enjoying the moments, we were pressed to turn in our Resolutions before a ball dropped in New York.

I don’t like that game.

I don’t like those rules.

I want to stay until the end.

I don’t want to mindlessly follow everyone else to an exit so premature. We’re still in winter. The grass in my backyard is still dead (granted, it’ll be dead come springtime because I don’t take care of it like I should, but it’s dead now because it’s winter). The leaves are still hiding. Animals are hibernating. Creation is recharging. Resting. Reflecting. And this January, I want to do the same.

Maybe part of the reason why so many resolutions fail by February is that they were early. Maybe the resolutions weren’t wrong; they were just underdeveloped. Maybe, they needed an extra month or two in the oven. Maybe they needed an incubator, a place where the previous year (IN ITS ENTIRETY) could be taken into account, and the New Year could be experienced (even if only briefly).

Most people live their years, 11 months at a time! I don’t want to do that.

January, at least for me, is that incubator.

So while everyone else is scrambling to get ahead of the crowd, in a rush to go nowhere in particular. I think I’m going to stay reclined in my seat this month.

I still get up at 4:30am, as I have for the past 6 years (and counting).

After drinking water to rehydrate and having a cup of coffee, I still spend the first hour reading books I’ve been meaning to get to and writing words (like the ones you’re reading). But more importantly, I’m reflecting. On a full year. On all my plans that failed and apparent failures that didn’t go as planned, that turned out to be incredible successes looking through the lenses of December 31st.

For the third time in my life, I treated a year like I treat the movies. I stayed until the end, and I think I’ll be better for it.

I got LASIK in 2020, so I no longer wear glasses, so that little piece of my credibility may be gone, but I’m inviting you to join me. If you’ve already stood up with the rest of the crowd and resolved prematurely, don’t be afraid to erase some of those resolutions (or hit the backspace or throw it in the trash).

Stay until the end…

February is as good a time to start as any.

What are some of the most helpful reflection questions you’ve been asked?

Special Thank You to all my Cousins who have held me down as paid subscribers this past year.

To: Briana, Bonnie, Gale-Ann, Corinne, Leslie, Sandy, La’Twan, Cecelia, Epiphanies in Zimbabwe, Valerie, Elle, Ken, Rebekah, Bethany, Lisa, Bonnie, Kimberly, Alia, Kaleigh, Kathy, Rosemary, Diane, Jackie, Tiffany, Mackenzie, Natalie, Carol, Catherine, Alexa, Nicole, How We Be (Sorry your real name doesn’t appear), Bethany, and Rob - I want y’all to know that I’m truly grateful for you. If you’re here you know that my mission to bring beauty into the world by building the best teams on the planet, and you’ve been a huge part of that team in a year full of milestones. I can’t express how much your support has been key by helping me to fund the work that other creatives do. In some ways, your support here is pass through income for some of the most talented people on the planet who don’t have a platform for exposure (yet). Thanks for the ways you contribute to help people learn how to speak with an accent of hope! You can expect more specific engagement this upcoming year (that’s one of my resolutions that I’ve had in tank for the last 12 months, so it’s neither early nor half baked).

Art.

Drawing.

Portraits.

It’s not quite a new love. It’s really more of an old flame I’ve reconnected with.

An Old Flame

I fell in love again this summer. Almost every night I retreated back into my Studio and uncovered a love buried deep inside of me.

Art!

Growing up stuttering, you never imagine you’d be able to make a living using words—especially spoken ones. So you learn to use pictures to paint thousands of them. I grew up drawing more than writing or speaking, because pictures helped me communicate publicly in ways words couldn’t. My writing was never the best, and my speech was hard for people to stomach, by my pictures…my pictures caught people’s attention. So as a kid, I followed the compliments and leaned in. (It’s crazy how carving out a career as a preacher, author, and speaker, almost no one—even my best friends—know this side of me.)

I forgot about this side of me.

Remembering Me

I stopped drawing at 14 years old when my late brother, Sam, and I started bonding over basketball. Throughout life, I tend to spark these obsessions and can’t focus on anything else. Sam was an instigator of the best sorts. Turning my little sparks into forest fires. At 14, I traded in my pencil for a Wilson Evolution and never really looked back.

I forgot how much I loved it.

Buying a new pack of pencils two months ago cured my amnesia.

Over the last quarter of a century (26+ years) I can count the amount of times I’ve drawn anything. My most recent, before these pictures, was a piece of a cartoon in an iPad app in 2016.

I grew up drawing cartoons mainly. I’ve NEVER drawn faces. 2 months ago I decided to try my hand at it.

A few pencils, YouTube tutorials, books and articles about the Loomis Method, and lots of childhood curiosity later and here are some of the ones I like looking at the most.

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To date, I’ve drawn 19 faces in my entire life.

These are some of my favorites.

Love in the Lost & Found

Drawing has reminded me that loves lost can be recaptured. Dig through your pasts lost & found and you’ll find something special. I started taking pictures with my Fujifilm x100v a few years ago. I remember meeting my homie Sebastian in Israel a few years back, and hearing how his love for photography grew when his mom died. He didn’t have many pictures of her and never wanted to make the same mistake with future relationships.

I don’t have many pictures with Sam. I take photographs, like Sebastian, to protect myself from the same future regrets he fears. What I love about pictures is that in some way they allow me the opportunity to rewrite the past.

Maybe I’ll get nice enough with the Portraits to rewrite the narrative about Sam and I not having many pictures together. Maybe my rememory1 will be strengthened not by words of my writing, but pictures of my making.

I fell in love with art this summer. I’m glad you get to see my heart on the page instead of just imagining it.

Maybe one day, I’ll be known for my pictures again as much as my words.

What childhood loves do you need to recapture?

The Weight of Sugar Cane

Some stories sit in your chest for years before you even realize they’ve been trying to get out. This one’s been with me for a while.

It came to me in fragments: a cluttered New York City apartment filled with old photos and playing old music. A kid making mangu while her older sister argues with the insurance company on speakerphone because mami needed a translator, otherwise, who knows what she would’ve agreed to. A hallway of peeling paint and the sounds of chamaquitos playing manhunt in the distance…or maybe that’s just memory messing with me again.

What do adult children do when they return home—not just to care for a sick parent, but to face the emotional weight of everything left unsaid?

That’s the question underneath The Weight of Sugar Cane.

It’s about four adult Dominican siblings navigating one long weekend in their childhood apartment. A father’s health is challenged. Decisions have to be made. And in the middle of all that, something unexpected happens — they start remembering who they used to be around each other. They start playing again.

If you’ve ever cared for someone who didn’t know how to say “I love you,” or fought with a sibling while secretly needing their hug, this film is for you.

It’s a story about grief, yes. But also about joy and freedom and curiosity. About the type of joy that sneaks in the side door, uninvited, while you’re doing dishes or taking out the trash. The kind of joy you forgot you knew how to feel. The kind you find in the presence of people who’ve known you longer than you’ve known yourself.

The Weight of Sugar Cane is a short film about adult siblings who return home to care for their aging Dominican father. That’s the plot. But it’s also about something deeper — the quiet ache of growing up, the grief that settles into the corners of a NYC apartment, and the soft rediscovery of joy in places you thought had gone dry.

Our fundraising campaign on Seed&Spark is live and we’re slowly approaching the campaign end. When launched the campaign, the response was encouraging. The texts. The shares. The early supporters who gave without me even asking. It’s been a reminder that the stories we carry aren’t just ours. They’re communal. They’re cultural. They’re connective.

Now here’s the part where I get a little logistical; and a little bold.

Our goal is to raise $19,550 in 30 days. We’re about 12 days away from the campaign’s end and about $10k from reaching 80% of our goal, which is what we need to get greenlit. 

We’re making this film with the same independent, guerrilla-style spirit that shaped It Stays With Us, my last short. That little film went places: Oscar-qualifying festivals, private screenings, and, you know, We Go On, a 20-city tour on grief and hope. It even won a few awards along the way. But this one— this one, feels special.

A few things make The Weight of Sugar Cane unique:

1. The storytelling is grounded in atmosphere and gesture. We’re leaning less on exposition and more on physicality, sound, and silence. The way siblings talk without talking. The way a hallway can feel like childhood and adulthood all at once.

2. It’s a deeply Dominican-American story. From the food to the cadence to the way love and duty show up in a family like this, the film is an ode to Caribbean siblings navigating adulthood while still carrying the sound of their parents’ accent in their ears.

3. The production is led by an all-Caribbean team. That’s not a tagline; it’s our conviction. Dominican, and Puerto Rican. From cast to crew, we’re building something that reflects our community and pours back into it.

4. The cultural ROI is real. For our investors and funders, this isn’t just about backing a short film. It’s about creating space in the industry for culturally specific, emotionally expansive stories told by the people who lived them. Every dollar helps build not just a film, but a track record for future Dominican-led narratives.

So here’s my invitation:

If you’ve been moved by the work I’ve made in the past…

If you believe in stories that hold joy and grief at the same time…

If you want to see more films made by and for Caribbean communities…

Would you consider giving to the campaign? Or forwarding it to someone who might?Or simply sharing it, reposting it, becoming part of our “street team” in this first crucial week?

Here’s the link:

https://seedandspark.com/fund/the-weight-of-sugarcane

Every bit helps. Every cheer counts.

And if you want a visual? Picture four grown siblings cleaning their father’s apartment. The youngest puts on an old Johnny Ventura CD. The oldest groans. The middle one starts dancing without realizing it. And by the end, they’re all laughing. And for a moment everything feels like childhood again.

That’s the story we’re telling.

And I’d love for you to help us tell it.

Peace,

Rich Pérez

SUPPORT: The Weight of Sugar Cane