MEDITATIONS ON GRIEF

What I've learned from sitting with grief, rather than resisting it.

Grief has visited our home more than once. I've known grief before, but there have been times I've let myself be truly present with it. To feel it as it moves through me. To sit with it, rather than resist it.

I'm grateful to have yoga, and all it gives me to build resilience. Breathwork, movement, meditation and introspection have been constant companions through it. Never does the phrase "practice what you preach" feel more true.

At its most honest, practice becomes less about effort and more about being. Here are some reflections on grief as I've come to know it, offered in the hope they resonate with others holding space for their own grief, or someone else's.

Grief is grief

No matter what you're mourning, your grief is valid. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Grieving something means it mattered to you. That's enough.

Grief isn't always proportionate

Grief doesn't follow logic. You can grieve big for something small, and be oddly composed after a significant loss. That doesn't make your grief any less real.

Grief is circular

You expect to move forward from grief, but it circles back. Just when you think you've turned a corner, a song, a smell, a memory, or a tin of cat food in the cupboard can bring the ache flooding back. Grief loops, often when we least expect it.

Grief changes shape

It doesn't stay the same. What feels unbearable one day may soften the next, then return without warning. Grief evolves, contracts, flares. Over time it may recede, staying present in quieter ways.

Grief moves at its own pace

Grief demands time, and takes it. You can't rush it, you can't schedule it. As yoga therapists, we learn to hold space for each person's unique rhythm. Grief asks the same of us.

Grief lives in the body

Yes, the heart hurts and the mind spins. But the body holds grief too. Fatigue, heaviness, tightness in the chest, loss of appetite, muscular tension, illness, these are more than symptoms. They're signals. Grief isn't just emotional. It's embodied.

Grief needs an outlet

Grief demands a voice. You can swallow it, ignore it, fight it, but it doesn't go away. It just burrows inward, and it will surface one way or another, as illness, overreaction, anger, numbness, or depression. Grief needs you to listen, so it doesn't have to shout.

Grief uncovers what matters

Sometimes it takes a loss to see clearly. Grief strips away the noise. It shows you what really matters, love, connection, presence, and what never did.

Grief reveals your people

In grief, the most unexpected people can show up with exactly the right words, or no words at all, just there for you. Sometimes the ones you expect to lean on fall silent instead. I'm especially grateful for the love and support of my people.

Grief is not something to fix. It asks for presence, not solutions. As a yoga therapist, I often have the privilege of offering that presence to others. And I continue to learn to offer the same to myself.

This, too, is the work. This, too, is the practice.