Five years ago, I founded The Confident Grief Coach School with a vision of creating a compassionate, evidence-informed, heart-centered approach to grief coaching. Like any meaningful body of work, our program has evolved over time — not because the foundation was flawed, but because growth requires humility, listening, and the willingness to keep learning.
One of the greatest lessons I have learned as both a grief educator and an International Coaching Federation PCC-certified coach is this:
Sometimes our clients and students become our greatest teachers.
Recently, one of our students, a bereaved mother whose child died by drowning, courageously shared feedback with me about two assessment tools we use within our grief coaching model.
Both assessments included backgrounds featuring bodies of water. While those images may have were intended to show a picture of how a client may be feeling based on their assessment ratings, they were understandably disturbing and emotionally activating for her.
The moment she shared this with me, I knew something needed to change.
Immediately, I went into both tools and redesigned the backgrounds, removing the water imagery entirely.
Then, during another class, we were preparing for one of our guided imagery exercises called “The Canoe Ride.” Before beginning, I intentionally checked in with her to ask whether water imagery would feel difficult. She thoughtfully explained that oceans and lakes were not emotionally activating — but rivers were.
And the entire meditation was based on traveling down a river in a canoe.
In that moment, I had a choice:
Continue with the original script because “that’s how it’s always been done,” or adapt in real time to better support the emotional safety of the student in front of me.
So, I changed it.
As I guided the meditation, the canoe became a small airplane. The river disappeared. The scenes shifted from water below to landscapes viewed from the sky. The emotional intention of the exercise remained intact, but the pathway became safer and more supportive for that individual.
Now, we have two versions of the guided imagery available for our alumni and students to reference when they are utilizing the B.R.E.A.T.H.E. Coaching Model for Grief™ with their clients and groups.
And honestly? I am grateful.
Grief work requires us to understand something profound:
Emotionally charged images and words are deeply personal. Symbols that feel peaceful to one person may feel devastating to another.
Professional coaching is not about rigidly delivering a script or protecting our own ego as educators. It is about presence, attunement, curiosity and responsiveness.
As professional coaches, I know we must continuously deepen our awareness. Because I am an ICF-accredited coach, we need to align ourselves with the core competencies established by the International Coaching Federation — especially creating trust and safety, maintaining presence, active listening, and cultivating awareness.
To me, professionalism in coaching is not demonstrated by having all the answers.
It is demonstrated by remaining teachable.
The longer I do this work, the more I realize that building a truly compassionate grief coaching model means allowing it to evolve alongside the lived experiences of the people we serve.
And perhaps that is true of all meaningful work:
If we stop learning, we stop seeing people fully.
I am deeply grateful to every student and client who has trusted me enough to share their experiences honestly — because each conversation helps us create something more inclusive, trauma-aware, and supportive for future grieving hearts.
Growth is not a sign that the work was wrong before.
Growth is a sign that we are listening.