There are moments in life when love and suffering walk into the room together, holding hands like old friends. They don’t knock. They don’t ask whether you’re ready. They simply arrive — uninvited, unexpected, inseparable.
That was the heart of my conversation with Zach Beach, a therapist, poet, teacher, and the author of Love and Suffering: A Spiritual Guide for Helpers, Healers, and Humans. The moment Zach and I began speaking, I felt a deep recognition — not just of his wisdom, but of the path he’s walked. It mirrors my own in many ways.
“Where there is great love, there will often be great suffering.”—Zach Beach
I’ve learned that truth through the deepest grief a parent can know — when my daughter Shayna left this world ten years ago. But I’ve also learned that loss is not the end of the story. If anything, it’s the turning of a page into a chapter we never expected to write.
This is a story about love and suffering, and how the two shape us, stretch us, and ultimately awaken us to who we truly are.
❤️🩹 Why Love and Suffering Are Inseparable
When I asked Zach why he paired these two words for the title of his book, he laughed gently and said:
“Love and suffering is the story of our lives.”
And isn’t that the truth?
We spend our lives seeking love — and when we find it, we cling to it with everything we have. But the greater the love, the greater the possibility of loss. The deeper the connection, the deeper the ache when that connection shifts, changes, or ends in physical form.
From a spiritual perspective, especially if you believe, as I do, that consciousness continues, love never ends. Relationships don’t break; they change shape. But the human heart still feels the tear.
What struck me is how universal this is. No matter who we are, where we come from, or what we believe, love and suffering shape every human life.
“If you’re alive long enough, you will suffer. And if you’re alive long enough, you will love.”
This is the curriculum of the soul.
🧠 Why We Resist Pain — And Why It Makes Things Worse
Zach talked about something that will resonate with anyone who has grieved:
“What we resist persists.”
Psychology backs this up. When we push emotions away, they don’t disappear. They go underground — only to surge back stronger. Neuroscience tells us the brain is wired to favor negative experiences. Evolution taught us to be alert for threats.
So when grief arrives, we often:
* distract
* suppress
* self-numb
* or try to “logic” our way out
But grief doesn’t respond to logic. It responds to presence.
As Zach said:
“Emotions are messengers. We must let them speak.”
When Shayna passed, I tried to be strong. I wanted to hold it together for my family, for myself, for everyone who looked to me. But eventually I learned that strength is not holding it in — it’s letting it flow.
When we allow grief to be felt, it begins to transform us rather than drown us.
🧘♂️ Learning to “Suffer Well” — Mindfulness as a Sacred Practice
One of the most powerful ideas Zach shared was the concept of suffering skillfully.
Not in a masochistic way. Not in a passive way. But in a mindful, compassionate, intentional way.
He broke it down into simple steps:
* Pause.
* Breathe.
* Notice.
* Feel without fixing.
* Respond with compassion.
He shared the research from Dr. Kristin Neff on mindful self-compassion, which teaches us to:
* hold our pain
* identify its location in the body
* treat ourselves the way we’d treat a loved one
For many of us, that last part is the hardest.
When I started meditating years ago, my friends said, “I could never sit still that long.” And I get it — most of us are uncomfortable being with our own thoughts. But as Zach said beautifully:
“Meditation is not stopping the mind. It is watching the mind without obeying it.”
Mindfulness doesn’t take suffering away, but it changes our relationship to it.
It turns pain from an enemy into a teacher.
🧡 Compassion: The Bridge Between Love and Suffering
One of the best parts of our conversation was Zach’s explanation of the difference between empathy and compassion.
Empathy feels another’s pain.Compassion feels it — and adds the desire to help.
“Compassion is energizing. Empathic distress is draining.”
This hit home for me. People often ask how I do this work every day — talking with parents who’ve lost children, sitting in the darkest moments of people’s lives.
The answer is that compassion gives me energy. When someone shares their pain with me, they’re not burdening me — they’re offering me a chance to love.
I shared a moment with Zach about a friend who said, “Thank you for enduring my tears.” And I told her:
“When you let someone see your pain, you’re giving them a gift.”
Zach expanded this idea with a metaphor I will never forget:
“When the right hand is hurt, the left hand bandages it.The left hand doesn’t resent the right.It simply helps.”
That’s compassion.
That’s love in action.
💬 Why We Must Stop Trying to ‘Fix’ Grief
This is something every grieving person knows too well.
“Don’t worry — you’ll have another child.”“They’re in a better place.”“You’re strong. You’ll get through it.”“At least they lived a full life.”
None of these help.
They reflect our culture’s discomfort with pain — not the griever’s needs.
Zach said:
“Premature problem-solving is a form of emotional avoidance.”
When someone is grieving, they don’t need advice.They need presence.
They need someone willing to go into the metaphorical cave with them and say:
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not alone.”
🕊️ Grief as a Teacher — Sometimes a Companion
A client recently told me, “I don’t want anyone to take my grief away.”
He wanted relief from guilt, regret, and trauma — sure. But not grief itself.
Because grief is a bridge of love.A continuation of the bond.A reminder of what mattered.
“Grief is the echo of love.”
And sometimes that echo becomes a companion — not because we’re broken, but because we have loved deeply.
As someone who believes in the continuity of consciousness, I know that grief isn’t proof that someone is gone.It’s proof that someone mattered.
📿 What the Spiritual Traditions Teach About Love and Suffering
Zach laid out beautifully how the great spiritual traditions address suffering:
Buddhism — speaks of liberation from suffering
Christianity — speaks of solidarity with suffering
Mysticism — speaks of transformation through suffering
Yoga — speaks of purification through suffering
I love how he compared the Buddha’s serene statues with the image of Jesus on the cross. They’re two different messages:
* One says: “There is a path out of suffering.”
* The other says: “You don’t suffer alone.”
And then there’s the shortest, maybe most powerful verse in the New Testament:
“Jesus wept.”
Not for himself. Not because he was powerless.But because he felt the suffering of others.
Love feels.Love joins.Love weeps.
🌧️ The Cloud and the Paper — Nothing Truly Dies
Zach shared Thich Nhat Hanh’s famous metaphor:
Hold up a sheet of paper.Ask: Do you see the cloud?
Because the cloud became the rain.The rain became the tree.The tree became the paper.
So where is death?
“Nothing truly dies. Everything only changes form.”
This truth brought me comfort in the early days after Shayna’s passing, and still does. She hasn’t stopped existing. She has changed form. She has become something — someone — woven into my very being.
🌱 My Story — What Shayna Taught Me About Love and Suffering
Zach asked me how I came to understand suffering as something that could lead to growth.
It wasn’t one moment. It was many.
Losing my job when my daughter was a baby — at the time, it felt catastrophic. Years later, I saw how it pushed me into a path I never would’ve chosen otherwise.
But the real earthquake was losing Shayna.
In the months after, I had a choice:
* let the pain destroy me
* or let it remake me
It didn’t happen overnight.Grief rarely moves that quickly.
But slowly, I began to see that love doesn’t end.Connection doesn’t end.Presence doesn’t end.
“Unless a seed falls to the ground and dies, it remains alone.”(John 12:24)
That verse became real to me.
I realized I had been planted, not buried.
Shayna’s transition didn’t break my life —it broke me open.
She is the reason I do this work.She is my partner in it.And everything I create — every episode, every conversation, every soul helped — carries her fingerprints.
🌳 What Zach Taught Me — The Mustard Seed of Transformation
Zach reminded me of the mustard seed — a tiny thing that becomes a sheltering tree.
He said:
“Brian, what you’ve grown out of your suffering has become a place where others can rest.”
That moved me deeply.
Because that’s the point of all of this, isn’t it?
Not to avoid suffering.Not to pretend we’re above it.But to let suffering stretch our hearts so that others can find shelter within them.
That’s the alchemy of grief.That’s the journey from grief to growth.
✨ Key Takeaways
* Love and suffering are inseparable — one deepens the other.
* Resisting grief intensifies it; allowing it transforms it.
* Mindfulness helps us “suffer well,” with compassion and clarity.
* Compassion energizes; empathy alone can exhaust.
* Platitudes harm — presence heals.
* Grief often becomes a lifelong companion, not an enemy.
* Across traditions, suffering is seen as teacher, purifier, or shared experience.
* Nothing truly dies — everything changes form.
* Your grief can become the seed of something transformative.
💬 Join the Conversation
How have love and suffering shaped your journey?What has grief taught you that joy never could?
Share your reflections in the comments — we grow by sharing our stories.
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