Howdy y’all from Texas! Looking forward to this journey with you guys!!

Put the kettle on. 😉 You made it here, and that already tells me something important: you’re willing to look at the parts of life most people avoid—death, grief, aging, endings—and you’d rather not do that alone. 👥This space is for people who feel the tug of questions like: - What do I want to do with the time I have left? - How do I carry my grief and still live? - How do I prepare—practically and emotionally—so I don’t leave a mess behind? Here, we talk honestly about living and dying, love and loss, plans and paperwork, spirit and practicality. We make room for both the kettle (conversation, comfort, everyday life) and the candle (mortality, memory, sacredness of our limited time). 👉How this community works: You’ll see different programs and posts here—like 365 — A Year To Live and Advanced Care Planning—but underneath it all is the same heartbeat: - Tell the truth about life and death. - Learn together, not alone. - Take small, brave steps toward living and dying in alignment with your values. -  You are welcome to come exactly as you are: curious, scared, hopeful, tired, grieving, unsure, or all of the above. 🙌Introduce yourself (in a way that actually matters) When you’re ready, say hello in the comments below. You can answer any of these prompts—just what feels right: 1. What season of life are you in right now, in a few words? (Examples: “Midlife and re-evaluating everything,” “Fresh in grief,” “Caregiver mode,” “Aging and taking stock.”) 2. What quietly brought you to Kettle & Candle? A loss, a diagnosis, a birthday, a near-miss, a deep curiosity, a professional calling? 3. When you think about death, grief, or aging, what feeling shows up first? (No need to be poetic. “Terrified,” “numb,” “relieved to finally talk about it” all count.) 4. What is one hope you have for yourself in this space over the next year? (Big or small: “Get my paperwork started,” “Not feel so alone,” “Make peace with a part of my story,” etc.) 5. Is there a small comfort or ritual that helps you feel grounded lately? (Tea, walking, gardening, journaling, music, prayer, sitting in the sunshine…)

This is a community for honest, tender conversations about life, death, grief, and legacy. To keep it safe and usable for everyone, we agree to the following: 👉1. Lead with kindness and respect - No harassment, bullying, shaming, or personal attacks. - No hate speech or discrimination of any kind (race, gender, sexuality, religion, politics, age, ability, etc.). - Disagree with ideas, not with people. 👉2. Confidentiality is sacred - What is shared here, stays here. - Do not share someone else’s story, screenshots, or posts outside the community without explicit permission. - Remove identifying details if you’re sharing an example in a teaching context. 👉3. This is not medical, legal, financial, or mental health advice - Nothing in this community replaces professional medical, legal, financial, or mental health care. - You may share your experience (“What helped me was…”), but do not tell others what they must do. - Do not diagnose, prescribe, or offer step-by-step instructions for treatment, medications, or legal actions. 👉4. Crisis and safety - This community is not a crisis service. - If you or someone you know is in immediate danger or thinking about harming themselves or others, contact local emergency services or a crisis hotline in your area right away. - You may say, “I’m having a hard time,” but please avoid graphic details of self-harm, suicide, or violence. 👉5. Speak from your own experience - Use “I” language. Share your own story, beliefs, and questions. - We honor many spiritual, religious, and philosophical perspectives here. - No preaching, converting, or insisting that your belief is the only “right” way. 👉6. Gentle with the details - We talk about death, dying, and grief—but we don’t need gore. - Avoid graphic medical descriptions, violent detail, or anything likely to be traumatizing. - When in doubt, keep it simple and respectful. 👉7. Boundaries, DMs, and emotional labor - Do not pressure other members for 1:1 support, therapy, or “fixing.” - Ask before moving a conversation into private messages. - If you are a professional (therapist, doula, attorney, etc.), do not solicit clients or give individualized professional advice here.

🚀Welcome & Announcements: This is our bulletin board for key updates, dates, and links. Only hosts post here; you’re welcome to comment or ask questions. 🚀Pull Up a Chair: Introduce yourself and share what brought you here. Tell us as much or as little of your story as feels right in this season. 🚀365 Journey Reflections For members in the 365 “Year to Live” journey. Post check-ins, journal sparks, questions, and “aha” moments from the work. 🚀ACP Questions & Wins Anything about advance care planning lives here—forms, wording, decisions, and next steps. Ask for help and celebrate every small win. 🚀Fireside Chat & Support An open circle for real talk about life, death, grief, caregiving, and love. Bring your questions, stories, and gentle support for others. 🚀Help Desk: Tech & Housekeeping Stuck on SKOOL or can’t find a link or replay? Ask here. Tech glitches, access issues, and “where do I click?” questions belong in this space.

🖐️Hi, I’m Pam. I’m really glad you’re here. If you’ve clicked into this challenge, chances are the holidays feel… complicated. Maybe there’s an empty chair this year. Maybe you’re exhausted by being “the strong one.”Maybe you’re grateful and resentful and lonely and numb—sometimes all before lunch. If that’s you, you’re in the right place. This is 7 Days of Light in a Heavy Season: A Holiday Grief & Gratitude Challenge, and it’s a gentle introduction to my year-long program, 365 – A Year to Live: Live fully, one breath at a time. 👉What this challenge is (and what it isn’t) Let me start with something honest: If you’re here hoping to “fix” your grief in seven days, I’m going to disappoint you. Grief isn’t a problem you solve; it’s a love story that has lost its familiar form. 👉What we can do in seven days is: - Make a little more room for your heart to breathe. - Put a little structure around a season that may feel chaotic or unreal. - Help you find tiny moments of meaning and connection in the middle of it all. Think of this as a series of guided pauses during the holidays—time where you’re not performing, not caretaking, not “holding it together” for everyone else. Just you, your truth, and some simple practices. How it works 👉Here’s the rhythm we’ll follow: - 7 lessons over 7 days. - Each day, you’ll get a different lesson that all eventual blend together no matter the process. - You can do them in order, or at your own pace. There are no gold stars here. You do not have to share anything in the community if you don’t want to. You can move quietly through the lessons and simply let them work on you. If you do share, you’ll find others who are also navigating grief, love, and the strange pressure of the holidays. You are not the only one feeling this way, even if it’s felt that way for a long time. What we’ll touch together 👉Here’s a quick peek at where we’re going: - Day 1: Naming the season you’re actually in—not the one commercials tell you you’re supposed to be in. - Day 2: The “empty chair”—who or what is missing—and how to give that absence a place instead of pretending it’s not there. - Day 3: Gratitude that doesn’t gaslight you. You’re allowed to be grateful and still hurting. - Day 4: Building a small “memory altar” with objects and stories that matter to you. - Day 5: Mortality benchmarks—gently remembering that we don’t have infinite holidays, and using that truth to clarify what matters now. - Day 6: A tiny act of legacy—a note, a recipe, a voice message that might outlive you. - Day 7: Closing the circle, noticing what’s shifted, and choosing one practice to carry forward.