Allow Yourself the Gift of Grief

Honestly, what was your first, gut reaction when you read the title? Recoil? Confusion? Curiosity? Resonance?

In our culture, we often ignore and avoid grief. The most accepted "thing" we grieve is death, and even that is muted. Most funerals are full of pre-scripted, empty words that don't even begin to illustrate or celebrate the beauty of the soul essence that just passed on. Tears are quieted and the pain is expected to be tucked away for, at best, another time. And we navigate the hazy maze of grief, alone. We don't see grief fully expressed in our culture, so we don't know how to grieve in a way that is beautiful, healing and creates growth and connection.

And what about the grief we feel for all the loss we experience in our life, outside of death? Things like:

Pregnancy loss.

Relationships of all types changing or ending.

Illness

Our babies growing into toddlers - school age - Tweens and Teens - and finally, a young adult.... the grief of letting go at each stage; both of who our children were at each stage, the experiences we shared, the parent we were to them.

As women, the loss of our fertility mid-life as we move through the portal of menopause (and all that comes with that initiation....a topic for another time).

Unrealized dreams of our younger years.

The loss of innocence.

Grieving what was, and what wasn't.

I'm sure you could add a few of your own to this list.

As with so many things in our culture, we are brought up to "go it alone". The hyper-individuation that is not only expected, but prized in our culture, perpetuates deep

alone-ness.

If you are fortunate, as you move through grieving something that is public, there may be a meal or two prepared for you, well meaning people saying heartfelt prayers.... but at some point, the outside fades away and you are left with yourself.

Your pain.

Your loss.

And you are faced with what can feel like a bottomless chasm of dark emptiness with no idea where to go or what to do. You beg for relief or a pair of magical glasses to see, or a compass to orientate yourself.

And those other types of losses that go mostly unnoticed, unseen, unshared?

Your starting point is the chasm.

No meals prepped.

No prayers for you made.

No one to witness, well.....you.

Ok, that was intense. Keep reading. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

(Kinda like grief itself, eh?)

So what are we do to? How can we change this? How can we help ourselves walk through grief, so we can make changes in our outer world?

I think the answer - or at least part of it - is twofold.

1: Recognize. Surrender. Allow.

2: Expression and Community

Let's start with Recognize. Surrender. Allow.

These aren't just buzz words. They will require you to both take action and stillness.

Fire and Water.

There is a bone deep remembering that you know how to move through this. It's wired somewhere in those primal parts of you that are the Earth, where memory is eternal and shared to each of us through our bones, our blood, our pulse, our breath.

We must first recognize the grief.

We must take courage and allow ourselves to feel our grief with our soul.

And then surrender to it. Stop resisting this process. It's not going anywhere.

Something like -

Hi Grief. I am with you, and you are with me.

I promise to not push you away anymore. You scare the shit out of me, but I won't ignore you anymore. God, you are such a b**ch sometimes! Like, is this really necessary?

Oh. It is?

Well, since you're not going away anytime soon, I guess we better learn how to talk to one another. You're good with words? Like, just talk to myself or write?

Awesome. That makes it easier for me.

Oh! You'll show up with your friends fear, anger, anxiety, hopelessness & others?

Cool.

You promise to come in waves?

Can I just deal with it all in one foul swoop? No? Because each wave works with a different layer and sometimes the layers are so thick it takes a few passes before moving to the next?

Sounds intelligent, actually.

You're going to make me slow down, in order to have these conversations??? But - I can't. I have kids to raise, a job to keep, a house to keep in order, kids activities....the list goes on! I can't JUST STOP doing life because you are here.

Wait, what? You'll manifest yourself in my body as pain in my heart, stomach issues, autoimmune issues & more if I keep ignoring you?

Sounds super fun.

You have another friend called Surrender? She's a guide through all of this? She's messy, feels chaotic, but is always there on standby when we are ready to allow her to help? She is the energy that gets me through the depths?

Sounds like a great friend.

Ok. Here I go. I'm goin' in.

Recognize the layer that is present now. Surrender. Allow.

Again.

And again.

And again.

With each wave.

Trust this force and surrender to it.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Until......

......you fully recognize, surrender and allow yourself to feel the depths of grief in places you didn't know existed in yourself.

We know how to do this. I promise you.

Expression and Community.

Two things we basically suck at in our society right now. The trauma and societal systems of past generations of hundreds of years for both women and men, in different but equally damaging ways, have silenced expression. They have stolen our pen and paintbrush. Stiffened our joints so we only move for what is deemed necessary (work, care of others), certainly not for enjoyment or to move energy, as our ancestors once did.

Sound, our most primal form of expression since birth; our first expression out of our mother's womb, has been silenced. Our lips sealed.

Crying is our body's beautiful, natural way to clear stress chemicals, boost oxytocin and endorphins, regulate our nervous system.

For many of us, our tears were never allowed.

Never held.

Never cherished for the sacred waters they are.

The lie we are born into in our culture is that you are weak if you need help. If you reach out. If you can't figure it out on your own. Independence above all else.

GenX kids were essentially raised to raise themselves, from elementary school through young adults....if we needed it, we did it for ourselves. Hyper independence was not a theory, but how we existed. Boomers were raised by emotionally distant parents that survived the scarcity of life in the Depression era, some of who's parents were first generation immigrants. And the wars of each generation have left a scar so deep we don't even know we are living it.

For generations, babies were left to "cry it out" alone in their cribs two doors down from their entire sense of safety and security; their mother's arms (thank the Divine we are changing this).

Families broke off into the nuclear style, removing the elders from our children's daily presence. Having Dad believe his worth is solely in what he can provide, so he better leave the house and spend his time away to earn money. Stifling Mom with endless chores, commitments, raising kids, pressure to handles everything, alone. Broken family systems have left us unmothered and unfathered - left to raise our kids with only our own resources; a generation of No Support Parents, with our children being the victims once again.

And so many more factors that are out of scope of a blog post.

Each generation wove this theme of separation and lack of community into their existence in their own way.

The story of how we got here is as intricate as the stars above.

And so, we learned to go it alone. To disconnect. To stuff and not feel. Not express.

To deconstruct the communities our ancestors once thrived in.

How does all this relate to grief?

In order for our grief to truly, fully leave our bodies, not only must we recognize, surrender and allow it to move through - but the expression of our grief must be witnessed. And for that, we need community.

Community can be one friend who sits with you, offering you her deep presence along with a cup of tea, and allows you to express the layer of grief that is present for you, now. And you do the same for her.

It can be your husband, offering you his grounded presence without defensiveness and knowing he can't fix, just listening to your experience.

A healer, who prepares her space in the quantum realm to hold you and to help you transmute what you release. To help you walk your way back to the Divinity within you, because she has done it herself.

A group of like minded women or men, gathering to nurture each other with each person's unique medicine.

We can no longer continue down this road of wreckage and disconnection. It will be us, those that have held the depths of grief in ourselves - who will know how to hold those going through it after us - so we all can begin to heal. Change will happen. Change is happening.

You see, grief is the Great Carver. And we are all grieving.

If you recognize, surrender and allow, it will carve out your soul until you feel like nothing is left. And only then, once your grief is witnessed, will you pass through the Gateway of Grief and you will begin to see what the Great Carver was up to. How it was forming you. And it will feel as if the smallest of light begins to make itself known. Hope begins to return.

What else lies beyond this Gateway of Grief? I'm not exactly sure yet.... I've just recently been passing through, rather than ignoring. Doing. Trying.

But I do know that it feels Benevolent and True.

And, it will not be my last passage. However, experience has given me a roadmap. Now I can navigate this gateway.

Give yourself the Gift of Grief.

Be vulnerable and brave enough to allow your expression to rise from our soul.

First, witness it in yourself. Make the time, alone, in order to connect with what is arising from within.

Cry when you feel the swell.

Wail. Scream. Write. Sing. Move. For yourself. Finally.

Allow your bones to rest.

Allow your sacred water to flow from your eyes.

Allow your breath carry you.

Allow your sacred anger to rise and to take you into your Underworld.

There you will find the gift.

Allow this treasure of grief to be witnessed.

Allow your tears to be witnessed.

Feel yourself pass through the gateway.

Feel the lightness of grief's departure.

Feel a piece of yourself return.

Different. Strong. Truer.

....Until you meet grief again.

~Ranee

P.S. These words come from my heart, to you and for you. If you've made it this far, I'd love to hear from you, if you feel moved to share your thoughts with me.

Dedicated to my husband, Thomas, who ushered me through the gateway, which allowed me to finish this writing. May I do the same for you. Again and again.