Grief, care, and staying present with what matters
Written by Dawn Mauricio
Grief is one of the few universal experiences in life. It helps us process loss, make meaning, and remember what truly matters. Lately, I’ve been grieving (yet again) the ongoing division and harm, the brutal violence, the persistence of injustice and inequality, in Minneapolis, Palestine, Iran, Sudan, Congo, and beyond. All against the backdrop of an increasingly fragile climate and multiple overlapping crises that stretch us thin and test our capacity to respond with care. I felt grief, outrage, despair; a familiar mix that comes when the world feels heavy.
Thankfully, mindfulness teaches us the art of being present to grief, of staying with it the same way we learn to stay with our anchor as we meditate, a muscle I’ve been strengthening for 20 years this month. Practice can help us notice thoughts and feelings arise, let them go as best we can, and return to this moment. Over and over and over again.
Grief, much like love, can be pure and beautiful when we are grieving something or someone that brings up feelings of gratitude for what was. It can also be layered and complex, bringing up more intense and uncomfortable feelings like shame, regret, anger, or hurt, making the practice of sitting with it a lot more challenging.
Over time, we can begin to see mindfulness practice as training. Like preparing for a race, it builds resilience so that when the waves of grief hit—personal or collective—we’re a little more able to meet them.
If you’re working up to sitting with grief, a few approaches can help:
- Titrate: When a wave of grief arises, sit for a few seconds, before taking a period of intentional distraction—watching a short video, playing a game—before returning to stillness. Gradually, your capacity to sit with it will grows.
- Therapeutic supports: Guided movement, art therapy, somatic therapy, grief counselling, or talk therapy can help you hold what feels too big to hold on your own.
- Vocal toning or release: Sing, hum, “voo” (see below), or scream underwater or into a pillow. Emotions build pressure when they have no outlet and vocal toning can help release some of that pressure.
Disclaimer! Sometimes grief arrives too suddenly or intensely to sit with. In which case, our first practice is survival: call a friend, step outside, look at the sky while you cry, take a few deep breaths. Let the wave carry you rather than trying to control it.
It’s this relationship to grief, love, and presence that inspired a July retreat I’m co-teaching with friend and colleague extraordinaire, Kate Johnson, When Love Liberates: Buddhist Meditations for Hearts Broken/Open at Hollyhock!
It will offer space to explore the heart’s capacity to hold grief, joy, love, and sorrow with wisdom. I hope you can join us!
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