AWKN - A Way to Keep Noticing
A new place and beginning for Jen White - photographer, artist, art therapy practitioner, life coach, bereaved mom, widow, and one that is still trying to keep noticing the joys and beauty of life.
Beginnings Are Hard
Beginnings ask something of us. They ask us to step forward before we feel ready. To speak before we have all the answers. To create before we know how it will be received. To trust something we can not see or touch.
For me, this beginning feels especially tender.
This space is not coming from a place of strategy or planning, both of which have been grounding points for most of my life. It’s coming from a place of lived experience - deep, earth shattering, tragic loss. Trying to find solid ground that I could trust, to rebuild, to learn how to breath again has felt nearly impossible.
I am a bereaved mother…a widow…a trauma survivor. These are not titles I would have ever chosen—but they are truths that have reshaped my life.
And still…I am here, standing, breathing, and taking a step forward.
The Past Two Years and Ten Months
After Greg died, I was determined to continue my work at Aflac, to not let some of Greg’s final words ring true—“You will have to quit your job just to figure out how to unravel the financial mess I have left you.” Unfortunately, the eight months after his death proved too much for my physical and mental health and I stepped away at the end of March 2024.
For the next year and a half, I focused on healing from several rough bouts of stomach ailments, pneumonia, two Covid strains, and a diagnosis of Parkinson while working with numerous lawyers, CPAs, financial strategists, and the wonderful estate manager, Joanna. (In Ohio, a spouse cannot administer the estate of their spouse if they do not live in that state.) I can finally say that as of March 2026, the estate is closed.
Before Dawson’s death I obtained a life and spiritual coach certification and had started seeing clients part-time. Since his death I have obtain other certifications in meditation, art therapy, and business coaching all with the intent to build a full-time coaching practice. Dawson’s and Greg’s deaths, dealing with the numerous estate issues, my health, Riven’s health, caring for my parents who are in their 80s, has presented several challenges to running a full-time business. Holding emotional and mental space for my clients to work through their own challenges became impossible and I could no longer provide the level of service my clients deserved. So, in December 2025, I decided to put my business plans on hold and take a few months to figure things out.
By the end of February this year, I was at my lowest point emotionally, physically, and mentally. I was letting pride of “resilience” get in my way of being honest with myself and those I loved and trusted. I was determine to not let anyone know that I was drowning and loosing hope. I believed myself to be “the rock” in my family and I was determine to not crumble, but crumbling I was.
The Hero’s Journey
Thankfully, my best friend and her husband, Esther and Josef, and my wonderful therapist, Nancy, saw through my charade and got me the help I needed.
Getting to a place where you face your most authentic self is a Hero’s Journey. If you have read anything by Joseph Campbell, you know the Hero’s Journey myth. It plays out again and again in literature and film when the main character goes on a journey of personal growth, self-discovery, and overcoming obstacles. We all experience our own Hero’s Journey many times throughout our lives.
Since 2020, I have been involved with The Hero’s Journey Foundation. I can’t recommend this foundation enough. They have not only helped me over the years navigate very challenging times in my life, but they have helped thousands (men, women, teenagers, LGBTQ+) do the same. The leaders, facilitators, volunteers, and participants are the most authentic people I have ever been around other than those in my Buddhist community.
Since starting with them, I have attended ten events and am now preparing to be a facilitator of a women’s program while also continuing to be a participant. Dawson’s memorial fund is also an active donor to their projects. The program that I attended back in February at the urging of Esther, Josef, and Nancy literally saved my life by reconnecting me with two things that light me up from inside - photography and art.
A New Place - Why Now
AWKN—A Way to Keep Noticing—was not created in a moment of clarity.
It was created in moments of survival.
In the quiet.
In the in-between.
In the spaces where life felt both unbearable and achingly beautiful at the same time.
When everything I knew was gone, I found myself scrambling to make since of what happened to my world. Even reaching for small things—light through a window, the way shadows moved across a wall, a phone call with a friend, the stillness of early morning, a quiet walk in nature - felt impossible. I had stopped noticing the little joys, moments of grace, and love around me. The Hero’s Journey Foundation helped me to “notice” these once again.
Not in a poetic way.
In a necessary way.
It took a deeply challenging program with two dedicated facilitators to help me notice in myself that there was still something that could light me up and help me notice that life was still worth living. Photography was a hobby I started in college, developed professionally when my children were young, and embodied when my son started developing his photography skills. By the time he graduated high-school and obtained his mechanics certification, we had plans to start a photography business together taking photos of racing events and traveling the world photographing and writing about our adventures. His level of photographic skill in the few short years he practice astounded me. He was truly gifted.
That dream ended when he passed away. I boxed up my camera and shut down believing that I would not be a photographer ever again. But the thing you are most passionate about, the thing that is birthed from your soul, never dies. After February’s journey, I began to realize that photography and art just maybe the way I can heal and unearth who I am meant to become after the losses.
At the very heart of photography and art is the skill of noticing. Noticing is the life blood of living.
Noticing is the way to stay.
To stay present.
To stay connected.
To stay alive inside my own life.
AWKN—A Way to Keep Noticing—is a space built from that practice. It is an effort to keep noticing, connecting, honoring, and because I know I am not the only one walking through something that feels impossible. What I have realized is there are so many holding grief, transition, exhaustion, identity shifts—and doing it quietly.
We live in a world that tells us to move on, fix it, or package it into something more comfortable for others. To ignore our own healing processes and put others first. To move on. Admittedly, I have found myself setting these same expectations for myself instead of getting still and facing my emotions such as fear and anger. I have decided that I’m not interested in ignoring my healing process anymore.
I’m interested in truth.
In presence.
In the slow, honest return to self.
Now feels like the right time to stop holding this privately—and begin sharing it in a way that might meet someone else exactly where they are. To share my journey, what I have learned, the mistakes I have made, and my efforts to find my new self in hopes that I am able to help others in similar shoes and connect with the pieces I have lost within me.
What Kind of Community I Want to Build
Not a loud one. Not one built on comparison or performance.
I want to build a space that feels like safety and exhale. A place where we don’t have to have the right words. Where we don’t have to be “better” yet. A place where we honor both the beauty and the pain. Where we don’t rush each other. Where we don’t look away from what’s hard. A space rooted in presence, truth, and quiet strength.
A space where the practice of noticing through photography and art can be a place of healing, community, and rebuilding.
What You’ll Find Here
My aim here is to document my photographic and artistic journeys through life, through grief, and through building my business. I hope that by documenting what I experience, my words and creations will help others as they go through their darkest days of their lives while helping me do the same.
This will be a space for:
Reflections on grief, healing, and rebuilding
Photography and the stories behind the images
Art as a practice of presence and processing
Gentle ways to reconnect with yourself
Honest conversations about life, loss, and meaning
Short videos and tips that you can use to create your own creations.
Tips to help you navigate the difficult task of laying a loved one to rest and managing what comes after that.
My adventures as I building my photography and art business.
Some posts will be quiet. Some may be more direct. All of them will be authentic.
If You’re Still Here Reading This
You don’t need to have it figured out.
You don’t need to be “on the other side.”
You just need to be here.
You just need to engage.
And maybe…just maybe…start noticing.
(Shameless plug time…If you or someone you know needs a photographer, please send them my way. Thank you!!!)