Grief is not one-size-fits-all. Don’t believe anyone who tells you otherwise. A client once reported that his spiritual teacher admonished him for grieving, saying, “With enlightenment there’s nothing to grieve for. Grief is not necessary as we are all One.” I understand what the teacher is trying to say, and I also know that, as an absolute statement, it’s a bunch of horse poo. As a conditional statement, it might be true. Grief is not necessary until it is. And when it is, it is like a river with its own wisdom and flow. If it arises, our job is to trust it and not manipulate it, deny or suppress it, get consumed by it, or make others responsible for it. It doesn’t have to take any particular form. It can take any form. There’s no right or wrong way to grieve. There’s only the way that’s true right now. And it might (will) change in the next moment of now, and the one after that.
This article explores a series of reflections on grief from my own life and many hundreds of clients’ experiences. That means it’s a small drop in the ocean of all the ways we can reflect on grief. You have and will have your own unique experiences of grief. As always, see if any of this resonates or supports you.
Almost 20 years ago, on the Summer Solstice, one of my closest friends died from cancer. Though I was at peace with her death, and even relieved that her long suffering was finally over, I found myself crying. Witnessing my grief, I noticed something astonishing: the tears were washing away the energetic chords between us. The only connection that remained was the unending love between us. Everything else was washing away. Fascinated, I almost wanted to keep crying just to watch the process.
After that, I trusted my tears. I trusted that if they arose spontaneously, they were doing something for me.
Chinese medicine doctors back this up from a different angle. They teach that when we don’t allow our grief to move, it bottles up in our lung meridian and can make us sick. When a friend of mine died recently, my acupuncturist shook a finger at me and said, “Make sure you don’t suppress your grief! Take care of your lungs!”
But tears aren’t the only medium to wash things away. The activities that happen after death – washing a body, funerals, memorial services, donating clothing, etc. – can all be important steps to help the mind, heart, body, and energy systems process the change and let go.
And then there’s “the firsts.” The first time you walk into the house without your beloved there. The first holiday or birthday without them, or the first vacation, gathering, etc. Each first is an invitation to acknowledge a death, process, honor it, and release a little more.
The Many Types of Loss
Different types of loss evoke very different responses and processes. The loss of a pet, for example, is not like any other loss. Our bodies have a wordless, instinctual, loving bond with our pets. Mammal companions weave themselves into our lives in a completely different way than human beings. Recently, a lovely gentleman painting our house began to cry when he was telling us a story of his beloved dog, who died a year ago. He said, “I know it’s nuts, but I still really miss that dog. He was everything.” Not nuts at all.
The transition of a parent, child, spouse, best friend, peer, etc: These are all unique, often indescribable losses. Because each passing is unique, the process we go through will be unique to each loss. Maybe the simplest definition of grief is, “The process the mind, heart, body, and energy system uses to let go.” What does each part of you need to let go?
More Than Physical Death
There’s a special category of loss that doesn’t always involve physical death: the death of potential. This could take the form of ending a relationship, closing an organization, or the death of anything that matters to us that we felt had momentum and future potential. When that potential dies or is interrupted, the heart and mind suddenly seem to be at odds. The mind is quick to assess and understand what’s happening. The heart often takes longer to process. Recently, one of my clients didn’t even understand that what she was experiencing was grief over the death of potential. Naming it was liberating and immediately healing.
Like a physical death, you can use tools of grief to process the death of potential. For example, a different client buried mementos from his startup that had closed. It was his way of processing the loss. Any ritual or process you do can help the heart process the death of potential.
More Than Letting Go… Celebrating What is Eternal
To support (and possibly help ease) the grieving process, embrace the magic and mystery of what remains and sustains. This might include the legacy of what someone (or a pet, relationship, job, etc.) taught us. It could be how we grow and change as a result of the loss. Most importantly, I experience that the love between two beings continues to reverberate and live on, long after the physical bodies have expired.
Personally, I experience that the spirit and consciousness live on after death. I’m a bit unusual in that I speak to the dead. This is something I’ve done since I was a toddler, according to my parents. They report visiting my great-grandmother’s grave, and I sat on the grave and answered questions that her spirit was asking me. In my family’s cultures, this isn’t weird at all. Old school Greeks and Ukrainians don’t have the same fear of death that Americans do, and the ancestors are with us always. Several of my extended family members receive messages from our ancestors through dreams.
Because I never shut down that capacity (which I suspect many children have), I developed it over time. I have listened to many, many spirits describe their process of leaving the body, transitioning to “the other side,” doing a life review, reflecting on their relationships and choices. It is an honor to connect with and learn from them. They often continue to teach us long after they have left the physical world.
You don’t need psychic abilities to feel connected to those who have passed. In the Greek Orthodox tradition, one of our ancient hymns is “memory eternal.” They do live on; their legacy, their love, all that they taught us. Our hearts are the connection point and receptors for them. And though we have lost the experience of touching and feeling them next to us, we can make the short journey to our hearts and feel their love for as long as we live.
