After the Storm: Workshops for Helene Survivors
In the months following Hurricane Helene, we felt compelled to offer free mental health workshops for our battered Western North Carolina community. These weren’t big productions, and weren’t meant to be. Instead, they were gentle spaces where people could land, connect, and begin to make meaning of what they’d just lived through.
What struck us most wasn’t just the tragedy… it was the beauty. Just as Rebecca Solnit describes in A Paradise Built in Hell, people come together with stunning generosity and grit in the face of disaster. Neighbors showed up. Strangers became family. There was shared food, shared tools, shared tears. But even in that light, the nervous system still carried the storm.
“The Eddy” at Wrong Way River Lodge & Campground was a fitting venue for the series because just a few months prior, the muddy French Broad River surged through the doors and filled the room to its rafters.
We began in December with Our Nervous Systems Now: “What the F Is Going On?!”, a workshop grounded in somatic tools and nervous system education. In The Eddy , we acknowledged what the body remembers: the helplessness, adrenaline, heroic action, community, and then the crash of emotional and physical exhaustion. Together, we practiced ways to return to baseline - ways to come home to ourselves, even if the house itself was gone.
In January, we gathered again for Claiming Purpose: Rebuilding in the Aftermath. As the initial surge of heroism and unity faded (something many people recognize from the “disaster response curve”), we entered the disillusionment phase. This workshop helped participants explore what meaning, identity, and direction might look like after the floodwaters recede. Through writing, group conversation, and guided visualization, we explored the question: “Who am I now?”
By February, with our third and final workshop, Honoring Our Grief: Navigating Individual & Collective Loss, the long tail of grief had set in. Insurance delays, rebuilding fatigue, unspoken loss. We returned to ritual. We named what was gone. We sat and listened to one another’s stories. There was no fixing it. But there was witnessing. And sometimes that’s enough to take the next step.
Each of these workshops showed us something important: even in the darkest moments, community often rises to meet the need. We saw it again and again. But just because something beautiful blooms in disaster doesn’t mean the pain vanishes. We must tend to it. That’s the work of Bright Shadow. That’s the invitation we offer - to make space for both the ache and the light.
If you have a group that could benefit from these workshops, reach out and let us help craft an offering (in person or online) to support your crew.
Good lines,
The Bright Shadow Team
