Grief as a self-care practice

By Anna Banas, grief practitioner, family consultant, and NBC coach and faculty member. Read about Anna here.

None of us can make it through life without experiencing grief. It’s the flip side of experiencing life in many colours, and having people, things, and experiences that we so appreciate. The world provides opportunities for love and grief alike, and one doesn’t go without the other. 

When I moved to New Zealand from Poland 8 years ago, there was both excitement and some nervousness about it, and I moved the nervousness to the side, jumping at the possibility of a wonderful adventure. The adventure continues to this day, and it is wonderful. And, there have been times when I looked out the window at seasons changing differently, leaves not changing colour in autumn like I’m used to, winter not covering the world with snow - and ached for the familiar. I put it to the side again, not wanting to concern my husband, adding a layer of complexity to our decisions. 

It took me some years to admit that I was grieving, I missed the familiarity, the ease of connecting with friends with the same cultural background, the well-trodden paths and well-known jokes, the smells. I allowed myself to feel it all and share it with some close people. I got to feel it all. And paradoxically, recognizing and owning my grief softened it. It became my friend, rather than something lurking right behind me that I tried to escape.

What is grief, and what is it for 

While we may associate grief with the loss of a loved one, it comes in many forms when we experience any loss or futility - facing what we cannot change in ourselves or the world. The loss of a predictable life when becoming a parent; the end of summer when we enjoyed the sun and adventures; the realisation of lost opportunities for connection; regrets about the upbringing we wish we had; loss of a dream; loss of the world we thought was possible or we imagined would be here for our children. There are also the losses we experience collectively, now that we have access to information from all around the world - we can see death and loss on our screens.

The purpose of grief is actually to move through life, adapting to challenges, facing what we cannot change, showing up in relationships, and embracing life itself. As Gordon Nefueld beautifully puts it: “To experience the joy of reunion one must first experience the ache of loss, to be comforted one must first have felt hurt.” To be able to continue living alongside whatever loss we are grieving, we must feel through it. In the world I know, we no longer grieve publicly, or so much with others. The understanding of what that might look like in its many flavours is also disappearing. 

We often think about grief as deep sadness, but it comes in many forms and is not a linear experience - there are no external guidelines for it, or timelines for how long it “should” last. And yet, in our culture where things are expected to be fast, clean, and efficient, making space for grief might seem like a waste of time or a massive challenge. But when we don’t make space for grief, we get exhausted.

“We burn out not because we don't care but because we don't grieve. We burn out because we have allowed our hearts to become so filled with loss that we have no room left to care.”

Rachel Naomi Remen

To continue living with care, we need to make space for grief.

Why we are not meant to grieve alone

Sharing sorrow with others might seem challenging - after all, how to show up with our vulnerability in front of others? And yet, holding grief in community might allow us to experience and be experienced, to broaden our scope for feeling, to feel seen, understood, and less isolated. When grief is carried in community, the weight of loss becomes more bearable, as compassion, listening, and presence from others can offer comfort that solitude cannot. 

While each person’s grief is unique, expressing it alongside others creates space for healing, reminding us that we do not have to walk through suffering in silence or isolation. Grieving is a universal human experience. It can be profound to surrender into someone else’s quiet witnessing of our losses. Their acknowledgement of our sorrow sometimes brings us that acceptance and maturing of the matter that takes the spiky pain out of it. Eventually, our grief is validated. Eventually, we get to rest in its presence.

The Needs-Based Coaching Institute offers Online Grief Circles regularly, next on the 9th October at 8:30-10:00 CEST. Find them here.

Sit with the Pain in Your Heart, he said,

and I did. In quiet rooms. In restaurants.

On public benches beside the trash cans.

And sometimes I walked with the pain

in my heart. Through aspen forests and

the shade of tight alleys. On crowded city

streets and on long dirt roads. And I danced

with the pain in my heart—danced in

the kitchen and danced in the park

and danced with no music at all. And

I cooked with the pain and I wrote

with the pain and I gardened,

washed dishes and slept with the pain

and the pain was still pain. It did not

change. It still hasn’t changed.

But I did.

Rosemerry Wahtoola Trommer

 *title from a line from Greg Kimura, “Sacred Wine”