Lessons on Grief

Grief is an inevitable component of life.  Eventually we all experience it in varying degrees or doses. Grief can mean mourning a plan or project that didn’t pan out, a career coming to a close or a missed opportunity.  It can mean experiencing the pain of unmet needs or expectations, a change in health, the dissolution of a relationship, or transitioning to a new stage of life.  More often than not, we talk about grief in the context of losing people close to us and the resulting distress.  What often is left unsaid, however, is the vast ways in which these losses shape us and just how enduring those changes can be. What happens when we operate under the assumption that grief is a temporary experience? It’s expected that after a certain amount of time, tears, or suffering, that we “snap out of it”  It’s anticipated that we move through this experience and reach some mythical “other side,” gaining a form of altruistic wisdom and profound purpose.  My slog through grief has been a far cry from any of these ideals we’re pitched, and I strongly suspect most folks grappling with the pain of major loss can report the same.

I came to the Center for Relationship Health this past spring after a thirteen year career in hospice care.  Looking for a significant change of pace and a chance to flex my clinical skills in a new environment, I landed in private practice.  The lessons I’ve gathered through hospice work on grief, coping, relationships, and finding peace have been hard at work as I meet each new client. What I’m realizing too, however, is how valuable my own experience in grief and loss has been to my practice.

The loss I’ve experienced in the past two years has been called by most people “unimaginable.”  I share my story and I hear “I can’t even imagine…” or “I don’t know how you do it!”  In June of 2024, I lost my mother to an aggressive four year battle with endometrial cancer.  That would have been enough for most, but the universe was decidedly not done with my family.  Eleven months later to the date of my mom’s passing, my only sister succumbed to glioblastoma at the age of 44.

I kept moving forward, repeating a canned mantra of “the only way out is through.” I was going to work, paying my bills, seeing my friends, taking care of my home and my marriage, but truthfully every bit of it was beyond exhausting.  After months of trying to uphold some weird version of normalcy, I grew angry with myself.  Why was every little thing so hard? Why is my fuse so short? Why does my body hurt? Why is my chest tight? Why am I so bone-tired every day no matter how much I sleep?  What I didn’t realize at the time was how grief changes our bodies and rewires our nervous systems.  Every internal part is trying to understand and remember daily that our person is gone.  After years of “knowing” this and walking others through their grief process, I was in the thick of it myself.

In most spheres of life, we’re expected to take a short time to actively grieve then return to business as usual.  Employers may give a few days off for bereavement.  We may be able to use some vacation days to attend to final affairs or care for ourselves a little.  Friends and family check in frequently for a few weeks or months.  The way our culture operates neglects to acknowledge the very real fact that grief is a permanent process.  Sure, it can change.  Grief can look and feel different depending on the day, but ultimately it’s work to carry it, no matter how long it’s been since the initial loss.

While there is certainly no one-size-fits-all approach to carrying grief, there are some core principles that almost universally ease the process.  A pivotal moment for me in my grief journey was learning that managing the weight of grief is not about getting rid of the feelings all together, but reducing the suffering.  I was first introduced to this concept by author and Psychotherapist Megan Devine.  In her book It’s OKay that You’re not Okay: Meeting Grief and Loss in a Culture that Doesn’t Understand (2017), Devine explores the shortcomings of society in grappling with grief and how to find comfort in the journey. When we talk about reducing the suffering within grief, we focus on practices that provide an increased feeling of peace or safety.

Here are just a few basic shifts that can make a profound impact in managing big grief:

• Examine emotional and physical limits

As mentioned, one of my biggest frustrations in grief were the physical symptoms and monumental task of keeping up with regular routines.  I truly need more sleep and downtime now than I had any other time in my life. Once I accepted this and listened to my body, the relief was enormous.  I gave myself permission to go at a slower pace at work, at home, and in my social life.  At times this meant honoring a need to lay down and close my eyes.  Other times it meant not making the big dinner and opting for an easier option just to ensure my body was fed.  It also meant paying close attention to my emotions and acknowledging when certain events or obligations felt like too much.  I found giving myself permission to skip a holiday party or leave an event early if needed granted me so much peace I was missing.

• Find “Glimmers”

“Glimmers” are something I’ve noticed being discussed more in social media and in general dialogue around grief. A glimmer is any action, item, or moment in which safety is felt. Hours or days at a stretch can feel heavy when grieving. The concept of paying attention to glimmers or smaller moments can give just a little reprieve and a grounding in the present.  A glimmer could be noticing the warm sun on your face while walking to your car. It could be the first taste of a favorite beverage or treat.  It can be a quiet moment looking out the window and noticing the way the trees move. The more we’re able to find these little cracks in the dark and hold onto them as long as needed, the safer and more at ease we can feel.

• Respond to emotions and needs like you would a loved-one’s

Most people are no stranger to the phrase “we are our own worst critics.”  We tend to judge or hold higher standards for ourselves than our peers or even others close to us.  I fell into this trap completely in early grief and often lost patience with myself or would engage in overwhelming negative self-talk.  How might we respond to someone we love who is actively grieving?  Chances are we don’t scold, yell, or punish them.  So why then do we not deserve the same compassion and gentleness for ourselves?  This is something easier said than done, but I challenge anyone moving through grief to take note of inner monologue.  Reframe any harsh or critical messages as best you can. The more self-compassion and patience we can extend to ourselves, the less we suffer in grief.

The bottom line when concerning grief and navigating the weight it brings- be patient with yourself and scrap the previously held expectations.  Grief can feel absurd, cruel, and seemingly never-ending.  It can be a monumental struggle to find any kind of meaning in what happened to us or our loved-ones who have passed. The intensity and the way grief is expressed may change with time, yes, but how we move through the hard parts and regard ourselves can dramatically soothe us and ease the pain experienced. The profound lesson or takeaway I have gained if nothing else is the importance of treating myself in a kinder, gentler way not just in this particular season, but likely indefinitely. So hold respect and space for the parts that are hurting, find a little lightness where you can, and honor the massive change that has occurred.  To each of my fellow travelers in grief, I’m wishing you a safe and gentle journey.