Grief tending, or the act of meeting our grief with awareness and tenderness, is a much needed medicine for our times. Sadly, we tend towards mantras of “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” and “get on with it”. We are expected to perform meaningful eulogies in front of rooms full of people just days after suffering devastating losses, and we send our children to school to learn and “have a good day” after burying their family pet and best friend the evening prior. Grief that is truncated, bypassed, denied or neglected wreaks havoc on our body and minds. Chronic dysregulation and frequent feelings of overwhelm often come from overflowing wells of unprocessed grief.

Our losses, big and small, deserve personal attention and care. While some events might require a large public observance, others may suffice with a simple internal nod or moment of silence. Nici Harrison of The Grief space, points out that in the Guatemalan language, the word for ‘grief’ and the word for ‘praise’ are the same. I often imagine how much more peaceful, vital and healthy the world would be if we humans slowed down, felt the pangs of our losses and met them with the awe and tenderness a child greets a fuzzy caterpillar. All experiences of grief are invitations to strengthen one’s self-acceptance and one’s connection to humanity. We all have losses to grieve. Consciousness is what moves the energy of grief through the body, and allows for more peace, ease and flow to follow. Sometimes our grief would benefit from some outward form of expression, sometimes not. Most of all, it just needs our honest recognition of “what it felt like then, and what it feels like now” (from Pixie Lighthorse, author of Prayers for Honoring Grief). Grief tending is a practice, and it is as integral to your health and well being as eating well or exercising.