Hi, I'm Lacye Winkelpleck
Long before knowing deep grief, I have been drawn to the edges of cultural norms. I have been fascinated by the healing arts, embodiment practices, community, and the makings of a life of radical authenticity. I have always been more interested in what is true than what is comfortable.
When I was initiated by Grief in 2018, with the death of my husband, I was shocked to discover how often our culture asks us to hide our pain, perform wellness, and move on before we are ready. The message, spoken and unspoken, was clear: don't make others uncomfortable. How odd that someone navigating such profound suffering be expected to take care of those around them, rather than the other way around!
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I spent my whole life questioning inherited stories. Grief revealed one of the biggest blind spots I’d ever encountered.
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I was given space when what I longed for was community. What I needed was not distance from my grief, but support in learning how to be with it.
"What I needed was not distance from my grief, but support in learning how to be with it."
Over time, I began to understand that grief is not something to overcome. It is a natural response to loving deeply in a world where nothing lasts forever. The practices that helped me most were the ones that welcomed the parts of myself I had been taught to avoid: sorrow, rage, uncertainty, longing, and vulnerability. What many call shadow, I came to see as a doorway.
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I also learned that grief does not live solely in the mind—it lives in the body. Through somatic practices, movement, breath, ritual, and deep listening, I discovered that the body is often speaking long before the mind can make sense of an experience. Rather than forcing difficult emotions away, we can learn to meet them with curiosity, compassion, and presence. The body becomes both a barometer and a guide.
"Grief is ... a natural response to loving deeply in a world where nothing lasts forever."
That experience transformed the direction of my life. I wanted to become the person I had needed—the person others wouldn't have to protect from their grief. Someone who could sit beside heartbreak without trying to fix it, rush it, or turn it into a lesson before it was ready.
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Today, my work is rooted in a simple belief: the parts of ourselves we most want to hide often hold the greatest opportunity for growth, connection, and meaning. The pendulum swings both ways. The more capacity we develop for grief, sorrow, and tenderness, the more capacity we create for joy, wonder, gratitude, and love. My role is not to help you get over what has happened. It is to be with you as you meet it—and yourself—with honesty, compassion, and courage.
Training & Experience
Certified Grief Support Specialist
Megan Devine
Microdosing Support Facilitator
Flow State Micro
Registered Addiction Recovery Counselor
CADTP
200-Hour Yoga Teacher Training
Yoga Barn, Bali
Breathwork Facilitator Training
Catalina Rojas
Herbal Apprenticeship
Gina McGarry, Ireland
Grief Circle Facilitator
Ceremony Leader & Ritual Guide
Somatic & Embodiment Practitioner
Community Builder & Group Facilitator
How I Work
When we work together, my focus is not on fixing you. It is on helping you tell the truth about your experience and creating enough safety that nothing has to be hidden. I am listening for the places where grief, fear, anger, longing, or uncertainty may be asking for your attention, and reminding you that there is no right or wrong way to be human.
I don't believe people grow because someone gives them the perfect advice. I believe growth happens when we feel seen, accepted, and supported enough to meet ourselves honestly. I am passionate about normalizing grief, challenging the stories that tell us our pain is too much, and helping people reconnect with their own inner wisdom.
My approach is grounded, compassionate, and often a little irreverent. I take your experience seriously, but I don't believe we have to be serious all the time. Grief and laughter, heartbreak and wonder, sorrow and joy all belong. I won't rush your grief, pathologize your humanity, or force a silver lining. What I will do is sit beside you with curiosity, hope, and deep respect for your capacity to make meaning from even life's most difficult experiences.
