Grief. You’ve been there, and will be there, and maybe are there, right now.
Whether it is grief over loss of a pet, a friend, a child. Or a child grieving the loss of a beloved critter, a sibling or dear friend, a grandparent, a parent. No matter the who or what, grief.
I’ve been asked by a dear friend to talk about grief. To talk, I think, about how to manage it, move through it, feel better from it. It often floors us–this grief. It is BIG. It is DEEP. It feels insurmountable at times, it leaves us often feeling helpless–whether it is our grief or another’s.
We often, myself included, get busy trying to push our grief away. To not be sad. To “make ourselves/the other better.” To try to solve our child’s or our great big sad in whatever way we can. Sometimes this seems to work–to “make it go away.” We do it perhaps by filling up our time. Avoiding the sad. We do it by maybe buying extra things for our child, giving them lots of attention to distract them (mostly because we can’t handle their sad…), perhaps saying things like, “Don’t be sad. Here, this will help you feel better…” Or maybe we ignore it, hoping it’ll all just take care of itself. 
Always, always these attempts at being “over” our grief are valid, coming from a place of deep care and compassion. They are something that communicates how important the other is to us, how much we love them. Yet when we are busy trying to make the grief “go away” we are displacing just what we or our child need in order to grow in healthy ways—an opportunity to learn more about ourselves, to manage all our feelings, to really take charge of US…or our child learn to take charge of themselves.
To be strong, from the inside out. To learn how to grieve.
Here’s what I’ve come to over time…and truly I hope this will help ME when I’m faced with seemingly insurmountable grief. I’ve come to see grief–anyone’s great big sad–as something to welcome in.
Yes, welcome–maybe not with a big joyful smile but instead with the quiet acceptance a welcome can provide. To sit in the sad and just be. To give it a place of honor. I believe the more we grow up and out and expand in our joy in life, the further down our roots–our foundation–grow. Think of a tree–the taller it gets, spreading its branches out to the sunshine, light and air, the further down its roots grow into the dark soil in order to balance it, give it strength, so it cannot easily topple over. So it can continue growing in glorious ways. So it can be STRONG from the inside out.
This is how I see grief. It has a place in making us the whole and wonderful beings we are when we can welcome in our sad, cherish it, give it a place of honor, allow it. It is personal, our grief. It is on our own individual time-line that we will move through it. Instead of “getting over it” it will be come a part of the fabric of our being–those dark colors in a weaving? They off-set the bright and pastel ones the rest of our weaving (our life) is made of. We need these dark colors–maybe just to appreciate the brightness of the other colors, maybe to realize and relish the times of the bright colors.
As always, I encourage PAUSE to come into play.
PAUSE in yours or another’s grief. Connect quietly. Walk alongside. Look for the gifts the grief can bring--an opportunity to show compassion. An opportunity to leave another feeling truly heard and supported. An opportunity to grow our ability to let go, trust, lead with calm connection and really hear another or hear yourself. An opportunity to accept all feelings as important–crucial, even, for living well. An opportunity for self-care, for connection, for being what Mister Rogers always talked of–a helper. A chance to PAUSE a bit and reflect and remember and let those memories lift you or your child or another.
An opportunity to be the whole, balanced, strong-from-the-inside-out beings we can be. We can push grief away, cover it up, avoid it…and it can be sure to rock our world even more the next time around. Or we can welcome it in, give it a place of honor, sit in it and trust its part in helping us be whole and wonderful beings…and find ourselves just a bit stronger, more centered, in a place from which we can reach out to another who is feeling the insurmountable grief overwhelm them.
So today, whatever your loss, PAUSE. Take care of YOU by being gentle, compassionate, patient. Allow your grief. Maybe slowly, in little bits. Be sad. Be mad. Be confused. Honor all your feelings and know, clearly, that by doing so in time you will feel the inner strength once again. You will feel steadier. Calmer. You, as the tree that grows up and out, will discover the gifts your ever-deepening roots provide. Strength and balance. Strength that is quiet; balance that is steadying. Both can shore you up just when you need it the most.
And then joy—the joy that is about the richness of ALL feelings—enters in once again…
Here’s to my friend. Here’s to any and all of us. May this fill and lift us in ways we need the most.
Alice
Author and Parent Coach
©2018 Alice Hanscam