Grief is one of those experiences that is too big to hold on our own in isolation. It needs to be held in the wider arms of community, in the wider arms of the earth, in the wider arms of spirit. Ritual is a place where all these elements come together.

Over the New Year, I sat a ten-day meditation retreat at IMS in Barre, MA called Embodying the Heart of Wisdom. One thing I came away with was a renewed awareness of how fractured my attention has become—something I’m pretty much always reminded of on retreat. During those days of silence, absent of phones and technology, my mind widens and my attention regains its dignity.

Talking about grief, though important, often doesn’t reach the places that are yearning to be seen, held, and integrated. Healing frequently requires forms of expression that meet the body and emotional brain where they are—through movement, sound, imagery, touch, and relational presence—rather than relying on language alone.

It can be easy to believe that the “real healing” lives somewhere beyond the resistance—that the point is to push past it and feel the feeling, because that is what’s healing. Right?

I don’t think so.

Tending to whatever is most present is healing. Healing doesn’t mean pushing through, bypassing, or trying to get beyond it. The experience of resistance is part of our wholeness and has wisdom to share.

I have found that grief is a great teacher and guide, who teaches us to connect more deeply with the full range of who we are, to connect with compassion, humanity, and spirituality. 

Grief, unprocessed, can cut us of from our emotions further, cause anxiety and depression, and block us of from feeling our full range of joy, creativity, and connection. 

When I work with clients experiencing grief—whether it is fresh and tender, or old, hidden, and hardened—I find that grief often needs a few essential things: