EP #47- What We Can Learn About Death with Sashka Rothchild, Founder of Flowt
55m 20s
In this podcast episode, Sasha Rothschild, founder of the grief care platform Float, shares her personal journey of losing her mother to brain cancer at age 18. She explains that grief is not something we survive alone; it requires connection with others who can witness and hold our pain. Sasha describes the immediate aftermath of her loss as a frantic scramble for stability, likening it to a video game where the ground crumbles beneath your feet. She emphasizes that societal taboos around death make grieving harder, as people often avoid honest conversations or impose unrealistic timelines for recovery. This stigma stems from existential fear and a cultural discomfort with pain that cannot be “solved.” However, Sasha also finds that her mother’s death taught her profound lessons: gratitude for impermanence, the ability to navigate change, and a deep sense of resilience. She argues that mastering transitions—like moving 26 times in 22 years—became a survival mechanism and a source of empowerment. While she would trade all these lessons to have her mother back, the experience has made her “unsinkable” and more appreciative of the present. Ultimately, Sasha advocates for normalizing grief conversations to help others feel seen and to transform loss into a catalyst for growth.
(gentle music) - Grief isn't survived alone. Like, grief is survived with someone else who says, like, I see you in your pain. And I've experienced that pain, and I will be with you on this journey. And it is the only way I survived my mom dying. - Welcome back to another episode of Every Day in Dorfins. And welcome back after Thanksgiving. We took a little break recording and publishing for the week of Thanksgiving. Hopefully you all had a wonderful time with your friends, their family. I can tell you that this Thanksgiving was wildly different than last year's Thanksgiving for me where I did a little friendsgiving at school, couldn't really come back home amidst COVID, but luckily this year was able to be with family and extended family. So I hope all of you were able to have, really nice reunions and get the Thanksgiving this year that maybe you weren't necessarily able to have last year. But in the spirit of gratitude and Thanksgiving and all of that jazz, I am so excited to have Sasha Rothschild as the guest for this week's episode. Sasha is the founder and CEO of Float, which is a modern day grief care and conversation platform that normalizes and redefines how we live in an unsinkable and expansive life after death. Now, when we talk about death, can kind of seem a bit depressing. And oftentimes people shy away from having conversations about death. And honestly, I think I'm similar in that way where it's not that I don't like having conversations about death, but the idea of talking about it extensively can scare me a little. And I think a lot of people are in that boat. But what I love about today's conversation with Sasha is how she really unpacks why death is such a taboo topic and draws from her own experience of suffering the loss of her mother at a young age when she was a teenager. I think that this episode is also super important to be released now around Thanksgiving and just towards the end of the year when we're around family. I think it really puts what we have into perspective and also challenges are thinking around loss in grief and death. And seeing how we can tap into those experiences, if we've had a loved one or someone close to us pass away, how we can use those experiences to actually enable us to keep keeping on and like move on with our lives in a positive way and in an impactful way. So whether or not you've experienced grief or loss or you haven't, I think this episode is really important and I'm so thrilled to share with you all. Before we get into it, I have a brief message from my sponsor, Inker. Hi, Sasha. Thank you so much for coming on to the podcast. I'm so happy to be here. Thank you for having me. I'm really excited to have this conversation today about grief and loss. When we met about a month or two ago now, I remember chatting with you about this connection between mental health and grief. And you had so many amazing things to share about the relationship between the two. So I'd love for us to start off by you talking a little bit about yourself and your grief journey. Sure. Yeah, so my sort of grief journey has been effectively my sort of adult journey. My mom was diagnosed with brain cancer when I was a senior in high school and was sick for 11 months. In those 11 months, I was very hands on and taking care of her and so had this sort of really close experience with like the actual dying process, which was like horrifying, but also very illuminating. And she died right when I turned 18. So all of my sort of learning how to be a grownup has happened under the umbrella of learning how to survive my longstack, but also sort of survive and manage what grief is and looks like. And so I don't know that it's-- I mean, it's never really not been a part of my life. Like as a grownup and as a grownup, we sort of spend our lives trying to figure out who we are as people, how to manage our mental health as we're figuring out who we are as people, like what makes us happy, what makes us sad, what we want to do, what we don't want to do. Our passions are things that get us lit up from the inside and the things that make us stuck. So I've always sort of struggled with having this-- what felt for a very long time like a black cloud of like sort of sadness and sorrow, which has like deeply affected my mental health, but also at a certain point became a catalyst for looking at my life, my experience, my learnings from a different lens and it became something that I have slowly, but surely, very slowly, a little begrudgingly become quite grateful for, because it's really taught me a lot about myself, what I can survive, what I can overcome, and what it's done for me in terms of my awareness and gratitude and strength, et cetera. I love how you talk a lot about the positives of such a traumatic experience, like choosing to see all the positive things and gifts that experience has brought you. And you mentioned that you lost your mother when you were in high school, you were just graduating high school. You're 17, 18 years old. You're legally an adult, but not really. That's not at all. Like to lose a parental figure, your mom, at that age, when you're going through a big transition and you're going off to college, you're graduating high school, you're leaving home. How do you manage such an intense loss with also trying to deal with transitioning into a different phase of your life? I think it's a variety of things. I think in the moments, it is a bunch of just sheer adrenaline, like fight or flight. Like I think there's just a very hardcore amount of cortisol adrenaline, just probably a decent amount of panic of just trying to survive. I used to explain it to people of this feeling. This is sort of like an old person reference I realize now is that Mario Super Mario Brothers, when I was a kid in the 80s, you'd play a video game and you'd be jumping on these rocks to get across a chasm of some sort. And the rocks would fall out from under you as you were running. And that was very much what it felt like. I felt like I was just trying to find the next place to put my left foot and then the next place to put my right foot and where those places were not things that were going to last long, because I effectively didn't have a home or sort of like a home base anymore after my mom died. And so I think, yeah, there was just like spider flight. And I think lots of people used to ask me, oh god, I don't know, you know, you're doing this sort of like incredible feat of surviving. I would never be able to do it. And that's a whole-- I would have said the same thing. I wouldn't have been like, yeah, this is totally something I can handle. But we can do hard things. And so I think that's some of it. But a thing that I did learn-- and I put it into practice pretty early. And looking back, it's sort of like a 2020 hindsight thing is that I did survive to some degree by finding other people at first very serendipitously or like, kismet of all kinds, finding other people who had experienced loss. I think because I just subconsciously needed the pain and the sorrow of it all to just be seen by someone and reflected in someone else. And I think that's how we survive hard things in general as finding people who can kind of see us where we're at, like, mean as where we're at. And so a lot of it was vicariously through different mechanisms, like through college before I dropped out. And then just like finding people who also had experienced loss because then I could just feel like some semblance of safety because the depth of my pain could be held because they had experienced that level of depth of pain also. And so it just felt safe. And that's really all you're kind of looking for it. I'm not feel like you are like so close to the ledge. Yeah, I can imagine a special bond coming out of a room.
relationship where two people have experienced similar pains to that degree. Like there's something special there that no one else can quite understand. And in a way, it makes you feel like you said, seeing, comforted, the ability to even express your grief and sorrow. I think, you know, it's probably difficult when you're at that age to lose your mother and maybe your friends have found out or family and the response from the outside, from other people, probably also affect your experience to grieve and to go through that loss. Because people may unintentionally project feelings of pity or different emotions. I'm sure affect how you sit with that loss and how you are experiencing the nature of the trauma that happened. Yeah, I mean, I think that's sort of an interesting part of, you know, it's sort of in some ways why I have these conversations as much as I can or do some of the work that I do because the infrequent nature with which we sort of have real conversations about grief or loss or death makes grieving harder. Because we are so like panicked about saying the wrong thing or we say the wrong thing because there are certainly ways to have a lack of empathy around someone experience death and grief. And so I very much, much of the sort of climbing out from the bottom of the well, if you will, had a lot to do with people's reactions to my grief. Almost, I mean, not as much as losing my mom, but it was definitely a decent part of what made it harder or what possibly made this stuckness last longer. Because we don't normalize conversations about death and loss. And we don't say the real things because we're sort of scared because they really can be really awful. And we have these abnormal expectations about timeline, which I always find wild because there's this, I think, I think it's not that funny. I suppose that joke around with people about how you really kind of get a year. There's like this timestamp of like people are pretty, pretty sweet, pretty soft, pretty kinds roughly a year. And then you're just like supposed to be over it or done. It's supposed to be over. And there is no over because you miss someone forever. And it does change that sort of like the crux of why it's important to normalize these conversations. It's important to normalize the pain of it, but it's also important to maybe normalize that it does ebb and flow and it can get, you know, not, I mean, it does get better to some degree because it does change. But it's hard to experience reactions that don't miss the mark, I suppose, for lack of a better word or term. Why are conversations around grief and loss taboo? Like why is that still so taboo in our culture? Like why do we shy away from that? That's a good question. I have a handful of hypotheses and I don't know if any of them are right. I do think that some of that has to do with just a very human existential fear of dying. And talking about death brings that just so in our face. I think that we have a decent, cultural stigma around pain because we're supposed to sort of, you know, particularly in this country, there's sort of this like wild capitalistic, like just like be happy, make money, be successful, like raise a family and do all the, you know, and I think some of that, some of the hard stuff, whether it's divorce or pregnancy loss or grief, is enough for this idea that like we're just supposed to be doing our best and doing great. It's hard to think about something lasting forever. You know, losing my mom, the thing that really fucked me up in the beginning was that it was forever. I was never ever going to see her again and that was just like startlingly gutting and I think it's hard to think about we don't like to have conversations about things we can't like quote unquote solve. I think like it, it's hard to be like, well, you know, it's better to sort of be like, well, but here's the thing and we're going to do it for a minute and you're going to be sad and you might work black and you might cry in movies and you might visit the cemetery, but like at a certain point it'll be done, right? And we can just kind of move on and it's hard for us to live with this idea that some things just are forever. I don't know. Yeah. I mean, I think there's probably a thousand more reasons that vary across cultures and traditions and age groups and trauma and all of that stuff, but some of those feel like top of mind. Yeah. I mean, if you're having a conversation with someone about death, it brings obviously a very solemn mood or tone to it. And I think because that's the feeling that's evoked, people tend to shy away from it. For example, like if I'm having a conversation with someone about family passing away, it makes me really upset because, I mean, obviously, it's going to make you upset. That's a normal response. Yeah. It's upsetting, but then it's also just having this conversation with you right now. It makes me second guess, well, why does it have to be such a depressing conversation? Because then that kind of sets the tone for, well, we know the inevitable is going to happen. Everyone's going to pass away at some point, but why does that have to be such a depressing thought in the moment? Why can't we have conversations about it in a way that's bringing more positivity or more gratitude or more love for the individual we're talking about or the experience? Yeah. And as you're saying that, it just makes me think about the, and you sort of said before that, you know, I can see I have a lot of gratitude and that this place of sort of seeing the silver lining is so recent. Like the caveat is that it's been 22 years since my mom died, and literally minutes ago it feels like I was able to even peak open that door and be like, what's behind here? All of that is just to say that inevitability of everyone dying because we will all die is that it's both that it could be we could have sort of more, you know, gratitude or appreciation for the people that are here when they're here, but it's also sort of this, you know, it really does feel like when I can focus and find a North Star that is I really only have as long as I have, it sounds sort of obnoxiously right, but I will I am nicer to my husband, my son, myself, when I think about the impermanence of life. Like I'm adding saying that I'm like, oh god, that's sort of nauseating, but it's very true. It really is like it really like if you think about it, if I think, oh my god, I'm gonna die next week, I wouldn't yell at much. And it's not that's not an easy thing. It's not like, oh, I just go, okay, I should just be I should be super soft and like, it's like every day I have to I remind myself it's like it's it's hard fought. It's like very existential. Yeah, I love that you bring up that phrase like the impermanence of things because that's the principle of the Buddhist philosophy like recognizing that everything in life is not permanent that things are constantly changing. And we as humans, we don't like change, we don't like things that are foreign to us, we resist change, we resist things that that differ and that evolve over time. And I think death is like this extreme version of that like it's that it's that concept magnified. And we also spoke about, you know, a while back this concept around death helping you to kind of master the art of transitions. Transitions are periods of lots of change. So I love for you to dive a little deeper into what you meant by that and how that experience helped you sort of grapple with changes in your life beyond the death of your mother. Yeah, so when my mom died, I felt very much and I think many people feel this way in different contexts or situations, but that choice has taken away from you in the most ultimate in the most ultimate way. I did not want my mom to die. I didn't want to never see her again and that's what happened.
happens. And there's an interesting thing that happens when you do not get a doover, you do not get to take it back, you don't get to try a new way. Like it's over, it's done. And there's something I think that imbues if you're lucky enough to not get fully stuck in it, which is that you just you go, oh, I have to figure out another way. I have to figure out another way to live. I thought I could only live if my mom were alive. She's not alive. I have to figure out another way. And I think for me, I didn't have a lot of stability after she died. I didn't have, you know, again, I didn't have like a house to go back to. Like when she died, I was like out of the house and there was no more place to go home to. I didn't have a large inheritance. I didn't have, there were just, I had a lot compared to some people and I didn't have the things I needed for sort of stability. And that just was a forced function that caused me to have to get really good at like rolling with the punches, like literally and figuratively. And so I think to some degree, I went in a pretty extreme way towards like let's see how much I can roll with. Like I moved, I think we just moved back to New York City. I think I've moved 26 times, 26 different, 26, I mean, this, yeah, different houses in 22 years. And some of that is because there were like sublets and, you know, but it was pretty extreme. And I think some of it is that change or transition becomes a fifth thing that you know. It's like the thing that you now know and it can become a little bit of a trap because you can be like, well, I'm good at that. Like I safety sort of feels a little eerie because I felt safe before my mom was diagnosed with cancer. And then she was and it, and it messed with me in the most extreme way. I think that some of it is that change and transition. And these are, I just just say, these are sort of like maybe it could be looked at as like the negative side, but change and transition can be the things that help you feel connected to your grief because I think I felt for a very long time that if I was making things sort of like hard, you know, like that I could sort of connect to the hard part of losing my mom. But what I've learned is that, and again, this is where this sort of gratitude for the experience comes in. And I say that because I can't take it back, like I can't get her back. If I could get her back, I would, I would give up, you know, I would give up the lessons, I think, but I can't. And so the ability to live through transition because the greatest transition, like the experience of going from being a person with another to a person without a mother, the ultimate transition for me until I became a mother. Like I had just this moment of being like, well, what are you going to do to me now? Like I, you can't, you can't do anything worse than that. Like I'm, I'm unsinkable. There is a level of mastery around transition and surprise and change that that I figured out how to live through and not became really empowering for me. And so, you know, the long-winded version is that, you know, it gets just sort of skate by thinking like there's a different way that life goes. You just have this realization of like, oh shit, things change and things can change. I knew either survivor you don't and most people do survive. And so it can be very empowering if you're around people that reflect empowerment, if you're able to sort of see like look behind you and see how far you've come. But I'm super grateful for my survival mechanisms, which are, which are surviving transitions. Now we, like saying transition sounds sort of nice, but it can be as, it can be nice and it can be difficult, but either way, figuring out how to navigate them, you know, is pretty, is it, it can be a very boss thing to figure out how to do. Being adaptable, I think, is so incredibly important because the nature of life is change and the only thing that doesn't change is death because when there's death is there's no life. So you're constantly going to have to battle some sort of change in your life. And in a way, I think it's, it's really beautiful that you can also see that traumatic experience as maybe a blessing also that granted you these gifts, like this toolkit, this survival mechanism that's enabled you with so much power to take control of the changes that have happened and are happening and will continue to happen in your life. And it's having that more positive, cognitive reframe on it that I think is what really empowers you, like you said. And I think that's also such a good lesson for my listeners. Many of my listeners are young adults, college graduates. I mean, young adulthood is a series of changes and it's very hard. And I know you can't really compare apples to oranges. You can't really compare graduating from college to experiencing the death of your mother at a young age. But nevertheless, on some form or level, they are transitions and they're both difficult. And so I think it's important to have my listeners hear what you have to say because it's kind of a testament to this idea that no matter what life throws at you, you can conquer it, you can survive that. And you can let, you can lean into that difficulty, you can lean into that hardship and let that kind of be the fuel for you to keep going and to keep going through the day to day motions. And it's kind of like the self efficacy mechanism too, because it's like if you can conquer this thing, you can conquer anything. Totally. Yeah. And I, as you're saying that I'm just, you know, to me, the reminder is that you know there used to be this meme that would sort of fly around Instagram every like year or two. And it's, it's sort of obnoxious but also very true, which is like the thing that you needed when you were younger. And it would be, you know, against like a sunset or like sun background, you know, it would. But I think that what I needed when I was younger were more people saying, I see you in this sort of broken place and it's fucking hard. And no one can take away how hard it is. Because I think some of what can feel very disturbing when we're going through transitions that are hard. And this isn't just, this isn't just death. But when things are really bottomed out hard, it's very difficult to have people be like, but like find the silver lining at, because I, because I didn't know how to do that. So what I, I used to just really like what I understood is that you can get to the silver lining as soon as someone like sees your truth, right? And, and like what you're saying is, is that like you're doing such a beautiful thing with this podcast by like having conversations with people about all of their different truths that like no one can take away from them. And, and the silver lining is that we can do really hard things. And it can make us really powerful. And no one can take them away from us. Like no one can take away my grief from me. And what I've realized, and this is again, like I said, very recent, I used to sort of hold on to it as this bad divana, like no one could take my pain away from me, because that was the only way I sort of knew how to identify with my grief was like through the dark hardness of it. And I felt, you know, it made me feel tough because I was. But what I am realizing more recently is that no one can take it away from me. And no one can take away from me the fact that it is taught me how to be innately more joyful. It's actually hard for me to say that. I came out, that was difficult, but more capable of doing the things I want to do in the world work wise, which are not hard. I mean, they're hard, but they're not painful. What I've realized is that the pain of the transition, the pain of the battles and the scars and all of that is the key to my happiness now, because it's helped me understand that I can do anything if I could do that. And that's like now I'm like, oh, well, shit, I can do anything. And so now I'm like, well, shit, I'll do anything. And that's that's like an incredibly overwhelming feeling that I didn't have for a very long time in relationship to my grief. Like now I get to walk around the world and
and just be like, I find pleasure in the freedom it has given me. And so I think that's to some degree, if I were a young person thinking about struggle, I would always want my struggle to be honored, but I would also, I would love to have heard someone say, like your struggle will be the thing, but if you're very, very, very lucky, will be the key to you unlocking every piece of like what you've been brought here to do and bring. And that's like super magic to me. I love that part of it. - That's so profound, like so well said, and it reminds me of this concept of not letting yourself be victimized by the things that happen in your life, by the circumstances that you find yourself in. So instead of moving through life after the death of your mom, why me, why did this happen to me as sulking in that depression? And like, 'cause in a way, I think once people hit that low, like that rock bottom, it can have this mechanism where it starts to feel good, to not feel good. That's the easiest way I can describe it, right? - Oh, totally. - And then you-- - Totally, yeah. - It's like, addicting to kind of stay in that. And then it's self-destructive. - Comfortable. - At the same time, like it's comfortable yet it's also self-destructive. And I really love how you mention that, you know, when you were younger, you wish that people would have, like, acknowledged what you were feeling, and, you know, seen that truth. And I think it's, you know, there's this whole concept around toxic positivity, where it's just not sustainable to always be happy all the time, and always be joyous. Like that's not representative of what it means to find happiness, what it means to find joy and fulfillment. That's the reason why it's called toxic positivity. And I think, like, I just, I love how you can recognize that that wasn't ever really the key to making you feel better and leaning in towards that grief. It's the ability for people to see, like, through that transparent pane of glass and really get to the core of how you're feeling and acknowledge that that feeling is okay, and let you work through that experience with time on your own. And I know that you do a lot of amazing work in having conversations around grief and creating space for people to share their experiences with grief. And I'd love for you to talk a little bit about the work that you do with that and how you started float. float has been an interesting series of transitions. And it became clear to me after, you know, starting to build a couple of different companies that I wasn't gonna like get out from under talking about grief and death. And float was really just a reaction to that and sort of understanding that, there's this, you know, there's just a very obvious sort of sink or swim ocean wave metaphor there, which people use a lot for grief in terms of waves of grief. But, you know, I grew up in California on the BH basically and there were ripped currents, like really strong winds in the ocean all the time. And there's just this, it just is this constant, you know, signs everywhere that it's like, if you're getting like pulled out, if the waves get too strong, you let it take you out, you turn over and float, you don't sort of like doggy paddle against the rip current. And so float was really sort of an answer to trying to understand what does it mean to like turn over and float and find some sense of like being health. We've talked before my work colleague and I about being sort of like held by the water. Like if you're laying on the ocean and you're being held by the water being held by the waves as opposed to fighting them. And so float just came from a conversation about like, what would happen if we talked more about grief, what would happen if we helped people find a safe place to experience grief together. So we've been doing these things called a daily, daily float. We sort of like, and then, well, they're basically like, you know, daily meetings where people can come and just be in a safe place with other people that have experienced grief. And sometimes they involve, you know, meditation or breath where sometimes it's conversation, sometimes it's music. To me, music is medicine and has been my medicine my whole life. But what would what would the world look like if more people felt safe to just feel their feelings and that we could just all show up? It's really just again an answer to that, that meme of be what you needed when you were younger. I could have really used, you know, a place where if there was someone holding space 20 minutes a day or 30 minutes a day, that I knew I could just like tune into to be in the company of people that could see me, really see me, even if I didn't have anything to say, just to know that there was a place that was specifically there to see my struggle, my transition, my stuckness, my freedom, my pain, my sorrow, my joy, my laughter, but under the auspices of death and loss, it would have changed my life. And so, it's a place for those conversations. And it's been interesting to be developing this thing as I'm just still experiencing, like my grief isn't over. And so I, you know, I've started, we started working on this project and the company right before COVID hit. And I would have these conversations with people and be like, "Oh, this new thing that I'm working on is about death and grief." And they'd be like, "Oh, hey, maybe like, what if you did something that was just like a little more about like everyone feeling like, buoyed." And I was like, "No, no, no, like it's really important to me that it's specific to this one thing." And they're like, "Always not like so niche." Like, isn't it so niche talking about death? And I was like, "I don't know that I think it's niche 'cause everyone dies and we're all gonna sort of be there." And I think what's just been interesting is as we've been developing it, my grief is changing. So it's changed how I think about what we do and what we talk about and what we offer. But yeah, it just, it became this thing that I couldn't not do anymore. - You know, and I'm sure a lot of people definitely benefited from it now during COVID because the timing was just, so spot on where in this public health crisis and sadly so many people have passed away from COVID and it's like shocking all of the sudden where people are starting to realize, "Oh shit, like death could happen to me, it could happen to my family member." Crazy stories with COVID where people my age who are healthy have died from it. And I think it just shows, you never know what's going to happen and you can't, I think especially with the death, it's like you never know when you're going to pass or when your family or your friend, like it could happen today, it could happen tomorrow, it could happen in five years. But we always are never thinking that it could because it's just not top of mind, but then there's these traumatic things that happen and you realize like, oh my God, this, there's nothing special about that person that it was in their fate for this to happen to them or their family, it could happen to me tomorrow and it's oddly humbling in a way because I think it makes you, to your earlier point, it makes you a bit more present and appreciative of the moment that you have. I think the work you're doing with float and what you're continuing to do with it is so incredible and I love the name and this concept around letting the water hold you kind of also like surrendering to it because you're not fighting the waves, I don't know if you've ever served, I'm assuming probably because I grew up in California but I served once this summer and I was always so afraid to go into the water because I don't like big waves, I like to look at them but I don't like to be in them. - Totally. - The hardest part is really just like getting in because once you're past those waves that like crash at the shore, it's very calm in the ocean. And there is the like scary part of being sucked underneath if you like can't catch the wave or whatever the terminology is but there's a specific way where you can like flip yourself and position yourself under the board and if you just let yourself go under the water, you're safe. Like I had that panic initially but then I realized I was safe and it's kind of getting over that adrenaline fighter flight.
mechanism and just settling to it. Yeah, I mean life is impermanent and when it comes to transition, right? Some of what I think we understand about transition is that when we have some preparation, it is easier. If you have to move in the middle of the night, it is really demonstrably more difficult than if you have six months to plan a move. If you have to plan, you know, if you have to take a test and you have like two days notice versus two weeks notice, it will be easier with some preparation. If you're, you know, it's why we have like nine to nine, you know, just dating a baby transition is much easier when we are prepared and when we have like done some stuff to get ready for that moment. And so it's like you talking about surfing, it's like you prepared by understanding what would you would do if like worst case scenario happens, right? Like you do it make the way that you go under. And to me, it's like death is easier understanding because it's going to happen. There's no getting around it. If we can prepare by getting ourselves just sort of acclimated to the fact that it will happen. And this is what it could look like or this is what things, these are things you could do to survive it. These are ways you can talk to people about it. These are things you can do to bully your mental health. Like I think I survived half of my 20s and just fully bottomed out grief by walking the streets of New York City. Like there are ways we can manage how bad this thing can feel. But that's preparation. And so to me, those, these are conversations you're having. I mean, these are the conversations I'm having specifically with death and grief, but all of it, I mean, we, it's been happening since we've been here whenever that started, you know, humans here. But it's not, it's not new. It's just the conversations are new in this way. And it's important that we are able to talk about how scary and unsafe it can feel to lose someone and also to talk about the ways in which we can make ourselves feel safe again and feel connected and less alone and less isolated. I also can't help but ask now that you're a mother, how has, you know, this experience in your life, losing your mom at a young age, shaped your perspective on motherhood, now being a mom, having a child. What does that experience like for you? It's interesting. It was very, very, very, very, very, very difficult to become a mother without having mine in a way that was really frustrating for me for a long time. I sort of didn't anticipate other things I wish I could have prepared for. I didn't anticipate the secondary, if you all, wave of grief. I experienced when I became a mother. Part of that I think was very much that I now understands my mom's death through her eyes and that like almost, I like almost couldn't get over that because losing my mom was, you know, I was sort of this kid and it was, I needed her so desperately in that time. And once I had my son and I understood what it must have been like for her to die, to be dying and have to say goodbye to me. Like almost, it, I mean, it brought me to my knees. I don't, you know, it could have made me like, it was like a physical, I could have vomited. It was so awful to think about. And it was hard to think that, you know, when you first have a baby, you're supposed to be like, I mean, I was deeply in love with them, but you're supposed to be so happy and it's supposed to be so exhausting, but wonderful. And like, you know, in some ways picture perfect, but it was, it was really as, as joyful and as hard opening as it was. It was also heartbreaking. And that took a while to sort of find my footing. It didn't make me feel like not a good mom, but it did make me feel like it was harder because of that experience. And, and sometimes in moments I felt, I was like, God, this is just, this feels so like such a bummer. But I do think now my son just turned eight last week. I have, I have a sense of how important my relationship is with him. That that feels really, I feel really grateful for that. And actually, this is sort of a, I mean, it is what it is because parenting is hard, but the other day he was being sort of grumpy and tired with me at the end of the day. It was just kind of being like kind of mean. And I was like, you know, we were sitting down and I was like, what is going on? He said, I said, it's kind of, I do know, it hurts my feelings when he say that to me. And he goes, I said, are you trying to be mean? And he goes sort of, because normally he says no. And he said sort of. And I was like, oh, why are you sort of trying to be mean to me? And he said, last week when I was late for school, you yelled at me. And I really didn't like it. And I, and I was mad at you. And I was like, oh my God, my mom screamed at me half of my childhood. And I, and I said, dude, I'm so sorry. My mom yelled at me all the time when I was little. And I hated it. And I'm so sorry that I did that and made, like, made you feel mad. And I, we sort of had a conversation about like that we both have to listen. Like I, and, but it, but it was one of those moments where it, my sense of understanding this sort of do or die nature of memories of your mom and ways that parents say, it's important and, and being a better version of what you got. It really clicked. And I was like, I will not, that will not be a thing I passed down. And that feels like a big deal because my mom's mom yelled at her. And I'm sure her, you know, because it's just, you know, family traits and epigenetics that long story longer. I think there's something kind of really galvanizing and just sort of like, there's just a sense of urgency to do. To just be as good of a parent as you can be, because you understand how high those stakes are. Right. I mean, that's, I feel like a whole other conversation also is about adopting the mannerisms from your parents and how things kind of rub off on you. Yeah. Certain behaviors that I exhibit. I'm starting to realize I'm like, oh my God. This is something my mom would do. This is something my dad would do. And I think that's a whole other conversation around self discovery and relationship. And it's so fascinating. But I really love how you talk about really this complexity of emotions that you experienced after your son was born. And when you first started, you know, entering motherhood, I think it's also really beautiful too, because it's, it adds a whole other depth to the experience of having a child and recognizing what it's like to be a parent and then to also see the experience from your mom's perspective at the same time now that you are a parent. Yeah. And that's something I also think that probably is really hard to put into words because that's such a unique and personal experience for yourself. That's indescribable. So I'm happy that you were able to share some of that with us today. And it's, it definitely gives me a lot to think about. And hopefully my listeners, because people have these experiences that it's so interesting to listen to and to learn more about. But sometimes it's hard to relate to because you just don't have the same nature of that experience, but there's still so many learnings to take away from them. And kind of on that note, what is one thing that you'd like for my listeners to take away from today around grief or loss or just mastering the art of transitions? Well, one thing I would just say is that like, grief is survivable. It's survivable. Like you will survive it is what one thing I would say, but I would say that you survive it in a way that serves one better, faster. You know, I mean, not that your life takes as long as it takes, but you survive it in connection with other people. Grief is survived alone. Like grief is survived with someone else who says, like, I see you in your pain. And I've experienced that pain and I will, I will be with you on this journey.
And it is my deepest pleasure to sit with people in whatever part of that experience they're in, because it was so incredibly meaningful that people did that for me. And it is how I survived. And it just feels like the most important part of what I do with my life. Because people that are experiencing grief and death and loss have a very specific kind of empathy, grit, resilience, magic that I want more of out in the world. It will make everything better. And so find your people. Like find the person, find the people. And if someone's in capable of doing it, keep it moving. Because there are people who will sit with you in that space. And it will save your life. And you'll be able to do it for someone later. And it will be joyful. It will be meaningful. And it will bring you happiness. Which is pretty magic to be able to have the darkest part of what you experience. Be the thing that can light up your life. That is such a great reminder just to know that it's important to lean on a support system, to find people, to find a community, to hear you, and to see you, and to recognize the pain that you're suffering, and to know that you're not in it alone. And on that same vein about happiness and finding joy, I have one final question for you that I ask everyone that comes onto the podcast. Is something that brings you endorphins? The first thing that comes to my mind is walking. I will walk anywhere to get my frequency up to the right place. But music, live music, there's nothing more than more important to me. And to be honest, to surviving hard things than music. There's nothing that can literally shift the frequency of your system. Yeah, moving music. They're definitely super powerful and just bringing out feelings of joy and happiness. Music can shift your mood in an instant. And music can also kind of like smell, bring you back to a very, very specific memory, time, feeling that you associate with a place or a time in your life. And music is super powerful. And I also love the walking response because when you're in New York City, growing up in New York City, you're walking around everywhere. And it can really be like that release. I think a lot of people love to just go on drives because it's like a release. I can't relate because I don't even have a permit. But I think it's the same feeling of just like putting on some shoes and just going for a walk to clear your head. And moving is important. I mean, it really does move things around physiologically. But yeah, I mean, I, I'm just so, I'm so smitten with like what you're doing because. Why didn't we have more conversations about like, finding the things that bring us like that in Dorphin are, you know, up our bodies because it is what keeps us bullied. And it is our flow, like in Dorphin, you know, bring us there. So it's such a pleasure that like I'm like in your orbit and experiencing like you want this journey of having these conversations. Thank you, Sasha. That means so much to me. And I'm glad you're, you recognize that because that's really the premise behind the podcast. It's to redefine health and happiness. It's not about being happy all the time. That's not what health and happiness is. Health isn't about always making the most healthiest choices in your day to day because we don't always make the best decisions for ourselves. It's about fighting those small moments that bring us a bit of happiness, a bit more joy. And just it's like the cherry on top. And if you can hold on to that, you can, you can go far. So, like Lenin Doyle says, I think that's the name of her podcast. Oh, you can do hard things. You can do hard things. Yeah. I know I love her. Well, thank you so much, Sasha. It's been a pleasure having you on the podcast. It's my pleasure. Thank you so much for having me. This is wonderful. Thank you for listening and remember to like, rate, and review this podcast on whichever listening platform you prefer. Don't forget to keep spreading endorphins and find things that bring you endorphins every day. See you next time.
Podcast Summary
Key Points:
Grief is most survivable when shared with others who truly see and understand the pain.
Sasha Rothschild lost her mother to brain cancer at age 18 and has since built her adult life around navigating grief.
Conversations about death are taboo due to existential fear, cultural pressure to appear happy, and discomfort with unsolvable, permanent pain.
Grieving is often made harder by others’ awkward or pitying reactions and unrealistic timelines for “getting over” loss.
The experience of profound loss can foster resilience, adaptability, and gratitude for life’s impermanence.
Mastering transitions becomes a key survival skill, turning change from a threat into a source of empowerment.
Summary:
In this podcast episode, Sasha Rothschild, founder of the grief care platform Float, shares her personal journey of losing her mother to brain cancer at age 18. She explains that grief is not something we survive alone; it requires connection with others who can witness and hold our pain. Sasha describes the immediate aftermath of her loss as a frantic scramble for stability, likening it to a video game where the ground crumbles beneath your feet.
She emphasizes that societal taboos around death make grieving harder, as people often avoid honest conversations or impose unrealistic timelines for recovery. ” However, Sasha also finds that her mother’s death taught her profound lessons: gratitude for impermanence, the ability to navigate change, and a deep sense of resilience. She argues that mastering transitions—like moving 26 times in 22 years—became a survival mechanism and a source of empowerment.
While she would trade all these lessons to have her mother back, the experience has made her “unsinkable” and more appreciative of the present. Ultimately, Sasha advocates for normalizing grief conversations to help others feel seen and to transform loss into a catalyst for growth.
FAQs
Float is a modern-day grief care and conversation platform that normalizes and redefines how we live after death.
Her mother was diagnosed with brain cancer when Sasha was a senior in high school, and she died when Sasha turned 18, shaping her adult life around grief.
She attributes it to existential fear of dying, cultural stigmas around pain, and discomfort with things that can't be 'solved' or that last forever.
She notes that society often expects grief to end after about a year, but in reality, you miss someone forever and grief changes over time.
She relied on adrenaline and fight-or-flight instincts, and found others who had experienced loss, which made her feel seen and safe.
It taught her about her own strength, resilience, and ability to survive hard things, eventually becoming something she is grateful for.
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