On Loss
A father speaks about his son who is no longer alive — and says he has not lost him at all. Boaz uses this as the entry point for a broader truth: what we love doesn't disappear when the form changes. The question is whether you demand the old form back, or learn to receive what remains.
What this edition is about
The edition opens with a father describing a son who is no longer alive, and saying plainly that he hasn't lost him. Boaz sits with that rather than explaining it away.
From there he draws a wider observation about how loss actually works. What we love rarely disappears entirely — the form it took does. The pain concentrates in the demand that the old form return, which is the one outcome unavailable.
This is the quietest piece in the series, and the least tidy. It doesn't offer a method. It offers a distinction between what ended and what remains.
- What we love doesn't vanish; the form it took does.
- Most suffering concentrates in demanding the old form back.
- Receiving what remains is a different act from replacing what's gone.
- Grief doesn't need a framework to be worked with honestly.
Anyone carrying a loss that hasn't fit into a productivity framework.
This page is a summary. The full edition — with the stories and the detail — lives on Substack.
Read “On Loss”On this edition
That the thing you loved doesn't disappear — its form changes, and most of the pain lives in demanding the old form back. That isn't a technique for getting over anything. It's a distinction that makes it possible to receive what actually remains instead of only measuring what's gone.
Yes. A business, a partnership, a role, a version of your health — the structure is the same. Something real ends, and the question becomes whether you spend your energy insisting on the previous form or learning what's still here in a shape you didn't choose.