The Nature of Grief & Gentle Healing
Grief is the shadow cast in the face of loss, a lingering echo of a love or attachment that no longer belongs to us. Whether a loved one passes on, a meaningful relationship collapses, or there is a quiet loss of a chapter in life, grief often arrives uninvited, entering in a manner that is anything but polite and welcoming. Rather, it encapsulates us, unsettling, disrupting, and reshaping the life and versions of ourselves we’ve come to know around a new sudden absence. The void rearranges the elements of our inner world, leaving rooms that appear the same, to suddenly look jarringly unfamiliar.
There is a common misconception that when we experience grief, we are succumbing to weakness, but feeling such an intense and painful emotion is anything but; rather, it is proof of connection. It is proof that we have connected with a soul alike ours, that we once belonged and opened ourselves up to something that appeared beautiful to us at one point in time, despite the risk of loss and heartbreak. When we feel grief, we embody what it means to be human, as well as what it means to have experienced a form of love that our world became centered around.
Psychologists define grief as a natural response to any kind of loss, and while that definition holds truth in the realm that the feeling of grief is universal, the experience of grief is hardly ever identical. Each of our nervous systems carry its own fingerprints of sorrow, pain, heartbreak, and loneliness. While we all heal on our own timeline, each of our hearts find its own rhythm of breaking and mending into something even greater.
Grief feels anything but organized, rather it ripples through our nervous system like the choppiest of oceans, altering our brain chemistry, touching every corner of our body until we are consumed with an emotional storm and the aftermath of a physiological collapse. It can move through our nervous system, settling deep in our gut, costing us a restful night’s sleep, or dismantle our immune system. As painful as grief can be and as far as it can lead us astray from ourselves, grief is an inevitable human experience and one of the greatest proofs of our own capacity to love. To better navigate our own experiences of grief, below I have crafted an explanation to help better understand what it means to feel grief, as well as ways we can cope to foster our own gentle healing journey.
Where Does Grief Begin?
When we are little, our understanding of grief is often reserved for a loved one or someone close to us passing away. It is a kind of grief that ruptures the deepest parts of us, and leaves us with a void that has a finality in its appearance. It is absolute, and in a strange way can provide us a form of closure in knowing our loss is permanent, yet in the most painful of ways.
Yet, grief is not only bound to mortality nor does it only accompany a permanent loss. Grief is fluid, it moves through gray spaces, the moments in which loss is very real, but it is far from absolute. In the realm of psychology, we refer to this as ambiguous grief, when we are mourning someone who is still alive, but altered, absent in ways that confuse and hurt our heart. This kind of grief can show itself when a parent diagnosed with dementia no longer recognizes our face or maybe our name. It can also look like a partner who has untangled their world with yours, while you walk the same paths and shop at the same markets, all while their absence is stretched among all areas of our lives. The experience of ambiguous grief is covert in nature, but it is still universal. Pauline Boss, an esteemed psychologist and professor at the University of Minnesota, explains that ambiguous grief often holds the power to feel even heavier than mortality itself because it is a kind of grief that our mind cannot resolve. Rather, it is a loss that has no end in sight and no closure to ground us.
Grief can embody a multitude of forms, and in all its forms, it encompasses more than we are taught to believe. It can seep into our heart in times where we lose a version of ourselves and it can drown us in the hollow silence following an agonizing breakup, when the person we couldn’t imagine our life without returns to a distant stranger. While we feel grief in its emotional form, our body registers grief as pain on a physiological level. In a study completed back in 2010, researchers discovered that heartbreak can light up the anterior cingulate cortex and the insula in our brain, the same regions that are activated when we experience physical pain. When we lose someone we love, in mortality or in immense heartbreak following a devastating breakup, we don’t just feel the emotional sting, but the way it bruises our body as well.
While we often know grief to appear in mortality and heartbreak, it can also venture into our lives in the wake of a loss of routine or employment, or any kind of major life change. Our work provides us with a routine and purpose far more valuable than its monetary perks. When we lose elements of our daily life and routine, we often lose the aspects of our life that root us in identity and connect us to community. In the face of losing a job, relocating our home, or even parents becoming “empty nesters” and retirement, we lose an anchor that held our structure together and a rhythm of belonging. When we feel the ground below us looks unfamiliar, it is inevitable for grief to seep into these moments for a loss of chapter of life that ceases to be again. Grief belongs to any kind of change that rearranges the landscape of our lives, whether it leaves us with clarity or heartbreaking confusion.
The Thresholds Of Grief
Back in 1969, Elisabeth Kübler-Ross first introduced her defined stages of grief, and they are the same stages we have become accustomed to today. Yet, Kübler-Ross’ organization of these components of grief weren’t intended to be a strict set of stairs that only travelled upwards; they are not milestones we pass to never return. It may be more helpful of a visual to imagine these defined stages as ocean tides, flowing in and out while we are pulled underwater, just to be safely pulled to shore shortly afterwards. While Kübler-Ross’ stages are universal, we can all cycle through them at different times. Building off of Kübler-Ross’ stages, modern researchers in the realm of psychology have reduced the common experience of mourners to the idea that grief is hardly ever a linear process.
Denial
As we enter the stages of Kübler-Ross’ model of grief, we usually begin with feelings of denial. Grief can manifest as trauma at times, signaling a dampening awareness of the unbearable events we experienced as a form of protection. In other words, denial is not failure or a form of avoidance, but rather an innate form of neurobiology. When we experience absolute grief, denial may lead us to feel in shock or in disbelief at the permeance of the loss that we experienced. In the wake of ambiguous grief, denial appears more subtle in nature, as maybe we pretend nothing has changed, even as a loved one slips away from our lives, because accepting their absence as a “half-loss” feels too unbearable.
Anger
Anger often presents itself as we phase out of denial, with room for overlap between the two stages. When we venture into this second stage, elevated levels of cortisol and adrenaline surge through our body, fueling feelings of irritability and restlessness. In this stage, the feelings we feel are chemistry as much as they are emotion. In the experience of absolute grief, we often feel anger in the unfairness of the loss, as well as place an angered blame at those who were involved with or were apart of the experience of the loss. During the process of ambiguous grief, the anger we feel can be more quiet and smoldering in nature, as we may feel a kind of resentment at a loved one who may not recognize us or a partner who exists in physical form, but has vanished emotionally. Sometimes, in both forms of grief, it may even be fate itself we feel the most anger towards.
Bargaining
As the anger slowly begins to quiet down, our minds begin to entertain the idea of bargaining. In this stage, our mind begins to run wild with thoughts of “what if…” and “if only…”, leaving us with lingering hope and a sorrowful desperation for a different ending. Various neuroscientists have found these thoughts to be linked to our brain’s default mode network, the region in our brain that can entertain various scenarios and rewrite different endings than the one we experienced in reality. In moments of absolute grief, we often can wish we had acted differently or had seen something earlier than we did, and then we’d have a happier ending. When we experience ambiguous grief, we are often plagued with the idea that if we just loved our partner hard enough or sacrificed enough of ourselves, our lost partner would not have left our lives. In times of immense pain and heartbreak, our mind attempts to lead us to believe we could have lead the story to end differently.
Sadness
As we enter the stage of sadness, we are drawn inward. When we experience the kind of depression and sadness only present in the wake of grief, it is a different experience than those who are clinically depressed. Rather than living with a dark cloud over our heads in a consistent manner, grief-related sadness and depression presents itself in waves, with the weight of it heavy one day, and more manageable the next. In Mary-Frances O’Connor’s neuroimaging study conducted in 2008, her work showcased ongoing activation in the nucleus accumbens, our brain’s longing center, of grieving individuals when they were reminded of their lost loved ones. Absolute grief welcomes a kind of ache and sadness rooted in the idea of absence that cannot be undone. In ambiguous grief, the sadness we feel carries an even heavier weight, as we live in exhaustion of living with uncertainty, mourning a lost loved one who is present, but not reachable. There is a deeper pain in grieving someone who is gone, but not quite gone.
Acceptance
In the final stage of Kübler-Ross’ model of grief, we venture into the realm of acceptance. Often, we confuse acceptance with the idea of “moving-on”, but acceptance is not the same thing as forgetting the loss we experienced. Rather, this stage emphasizes the idea of integration, as we learn to carry absence alongside presence. When we experience absolute grief, this could look like learning new ways to live forward while still honoring what we lost. In moments of ambiguous grief where we rarely find closure, acceptance could mean surrendering to the reality of uncertainty, as well as allow ourselves to grieve without the comfort of having resolution.
The Body’s Biography Of Loss
While we often pinpoint grief to be an emotional experience, it is important to note that grief is not confined to our mind. Rather, grief often writes itself into our body, marking us in ways that science continues to trace. Research conducted by Strobe et al. at the University of California, Los Angeles found that individuals who are drowned in an insurmountable amount of grief exhibited weakened immune function and responses, leaving them more vulnerable to illness. Furthermore, the idea of “broken-heart syndrome” ( takotsubo cardiomyapothy) ventures further than the emotional pain we feel, as takotsubo cardiomyapothy can feel like a true heart attack when acute grief quite literally alters the shape of our heart.
While those findings show the extreme physical cost of grief, the body echoes the sorrow and pain of loss in a variety of ways that we can feel everyday. The pain and stress of the loss can leave us experiencing prolonged cortisol release in the body, leaving us feeling constantly fatigued or drained of energy. Sleep can become a fragile experience, as sometimes it is fractured into restless moments watching the clock tick, and other times it is stretched into long hours of a numb slumber. When the loss we experience becomes too all consuming, the hypothalamus, the regulator in our brain of of hunger and satiety, becomes disrupted by the storm of grief in our body. When this happens, food can lose its taste for some, while other times it can be the only thing some individuals find comfort in, leaving the body unsure and confused on what it needs.
The pain of loss can even be felt on a muscular level, as studies have shown that prolonged grief can heighten inflammatory markers, known as cytokines, in our body. This can manifest in a plethora of ways, including muscle aches, stiffness, muscle soreness, or a kind of pain that leaves our doctor struggling to provide an explanation for. Our body cannot distinguish between emotional wounds and physical ones; the body, in its own language, is grieving too.
How Can We Heal In A Gentle Nature?
Healing from immense grief is not analogous with moving on or “getting over” the loss. Rather, it is about learning how to best weave our experience with loss into the fabric of our own story, allowing us to move forward with our future while preserving the love we may no longer have. It is important for us to allow the grief to pass through us, so we can best release. My favorite ways to do so are listed below:
Allow Yourself Permission to Grieve
It is so important for us to feel the grief when it wants to surge through us, and allow it to do just that. Please note that while we feel we are doing what is best when we attempt to push our grief away, suppressing those emotions does not silence it. Rather, it only drives our grief deeper into our bodies. While it isn’t healthy for us to experience our grief every second of our day, try and allow yourself an allotted amount of time a day to sit with and feel your pain. This could look like release through crying, journaling, sitting in silence, or whatever ways you best release your emotion. Once your allotted time has past, try your best to live your day for yourself the best as possible, as those moments of release should allow you the ability to handle the day ahead a little bit better.
Use Your Support System As Medicine
Humans were not created to survive in solitude. We need each other, as we are wired to regulate one another. When we share our stories in our community or with those closest to us, our support system begins to help us regulate our emotions, allowing our symptoms of depression and anxiety begin to decrease. Sometimes, grief wants to have a witness, allowing our healing to deepen when we can name our struggle and allow it to be held in the presence of others.
Care For Your Body & Mind
Our nervous system often craves rhythm when our world feels uncertain and unpredictable. Prioritizing a simple routine can act as an anchor that can help us feel grounded in a time where we feel we keep losing our footing. This could look like enjoying a soothing cup of tea in the morning, going for a daily walk, or lighting a favorite candle before bed. Creating and maintaining a routine that is comfortable can help signal to our body that we are safe, especially in a season where moments of safety feel far and few between.
Daily Movement
Movement helps regulate our bodies as well, even in its gentlest forms. When we move our bodies, our levels of brain-derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF) increases, creating a higher abundance of this important protein that strengthens our brain’s capacity for resilience. With countless forms of movement to choose from, choose a kind of movement that works best for your body, whether it be a walk outdoors, a yoga class, or a quick swim in the ocean, to include in your routine.
Practice Self-Compassion
Practicing self-compassion in a time of great pain and loss is very important as we venture down our road of healing. When we have self-compassion for ourselves, it can act like medicine for our bodies, as it lowers cortisol levels and improves our emotional regulation. Our brain listens to things we tell it, often seeking evidence for the things we tell it as well, so it is important to speak to ourselves in a kind and gentle nature. When we do so, we change our body’s chemistry, teaching ourselves that we can survive grief through tenderness rather than hardness.
Expression Through Creation
Reconnecting with our creative sides can help us cope and navigate our grief. When we engage with the creative side of our brain, whether we are painting, drawing, collaging, or even creating a video, the visual expression bypasses all verbal barriers. While creating in a visual nature, we allow our grief another outlet and way to take shape when our words may fail us. It may be helpful to find visual creative outlets that resonate with you and allow your grief to flow through you through a creative lens.
Seek Professional Guidance
Grief can be all-consuming, and at times, incredibly overwhelming. While we can take steps to help reduce our feelings of grief or expedite the speed in which we feel those feelings, sometimes the success in our healing lays beyond the ways in which we can help ourselves. It is more than okay, and even courageous to seek professional help when we feel the grip of grief a bit too intensely. Seeking help is not a weakness, but rather a sign of wisdom, as when we do so we are listening to what our mind and body is requesting.
While the feelings of grief may feel like the worst kind of intruder in our lives, it is rather simply the price of being human, and of being someone who can love and feel so deeply. Grief and loss reshape our lives into one we may not recognize and alter ourselves into someone who appears foreign, but it also refines us. While we may feel the weight of grief in a hopeless nature, time allows us to heal, and we can emerge with an even deeper embodiment of empathy, an expanded capacity for gentleness, and a greater appreciation for ourselves and our own journey. While grief is the shape love takes when it has nowhere to go and no home to return to anymore, it is that very liminal experience that teaches us to live with absence, and not as a wound that is too stubborn to heal, but rather as a reminder of just how profoundly we can love and belong with others.
