Grief can grab a hold like a boa constrictor, squeezing the body, mind and soul until a person can’t catch a breath, can’t think, even day to day functions seem impossible. Then, when it releases for only a moment, a memory, a smell, a song, a comment from someone, even walking into a room can bring back the crushing grip, from which there seems no redemption. Grief is so tricky. It comes and goes and yet is always there. Sometimes overwhelming, sometimes a tiny nudge that makes us stop in our tracks, taking away our breath, reminding us of the love, the regrets, the aching of missing.
It is not a single event, but a landscape we are forced to walk through. Whether it is the loss of a loved one, a beloved pet, a job, or a friendship, grief manifests differently for everyone. It can begin the second a diagnosis is given, well before the passing. It shows up in the quiet realization of a changing body as one ages, or the absolute despair following an accident that is your fault and results in damage or loss of life. In those moments, there is a panic that vibrates through the marrow and a deep, internal pleading for a second chance that will never come.
We find it in the loss of a dream, that realization that a life path you envisioned is no longer possible, or in the secondary losses like the loss of a home, financial security, or the social circle that often shifts after a primary death. It lives in the empty nest when children leave, and in the weight of regret that replays the last conversation or the things left undone.
This is a whole-body experience, etched into your nervous system and your cells. It shows up as brain fog, often called grief brain, where you forget where you are driving or struggle for simple words. You might feel a total loss of motivation where the simplest tasks feel like climbing a mountain. Then there is the trauma diet, where food tastes like ash and the appetite vanishes, or conversely, a drive to overeat to physically fill the emotional void. Because grief places the body under such intense stress, the immune system weakens, leaving you open to illness, chronic fatigue, and a dark cloud that saps the color from the world. You might experience crying that feels like it will never stop, white-hot anger, or isolation so deep you feel no one can understand. You might even find yourself cursing God for allowing the tragedy to happen.
There is no fixing grief, but there are ways to carry it so it does not crush you entirely. For a time, it is okay to do nothing; simply existing is a necessary part of processing shock. It is vital that we allow ourselves to actually feel the feelings rather than bottling them up. While the prospect of facing that tidal wave of emotion can seem insurmountable, tucking it away only allows it to fester in the body. Forgiveness is paramount, forgiving the person who left, and forgiving yourself for the mistakes and regrets that haunt your mind. When you are ready, talk it out with a witness, because grief needs to be spoken to be integrated. While it is natural to reach for comfort food as a survival mechanism, try to slowly add in whole foods to get the nutrition needed to support your stressed system. Creating a small altar with a photo, a candle, or reminders of their impact can also serve as a physical anchor for your memories.
Nature offers a gentle hand to hold during this time. Plants in the rose family, like rose itself and hawthorn, help soothe the spirit and calm the heart. You can steep a tablespoon of dried hawthorn berries and leaves with a pinch of rose petals; as you sip, imagine the plant’s protective thorns creating a safe space for your heart to rest. Rose essential oil or a hydrosol misted on the chest can also help when that squeezing sensation becomes overwhelming.
Violet, a small but mighty plant softens emotional rigidity and supports those moving through grief.
Other herbal helpers include Ashwagandha, an adaptogen that helps the body manage the physical toll of long-term sorrow and settle the mind when you feel lost. Motherwort is a go-to for the physical heart symptoms, like fluttering or jumping in the chest when anxiety strikes. It can feel like a hug from a plant mom that holds the medicine of loving through loss. For specific, named fears, like the fear of being alone or the fear of the future, Mimulus flower essence can help you find the courage to face each hour. Finally, Borage, traditionally known for bringing courage to the heart, can help when the soul feels heavy and deflated, lifting the spirits just enough to catch that next breath.
When the burden feels too heavy to carry alone, turning toward your spiritual foundation can provide a sanctuary. Engaging in prayer and leaning on your spiritual beliefs can offer a sense of peace that transcends understanding. It is in this quiet communion where we can lay our heavy burdens down, finding the strength to endure the unendurable through a connection to the divine.
As we walk this path, we eventually learn that we do not move past the grief, but rather, we expand our lives to encompass it. It becomes a part of our story, a testament to the depth of the love we held and the resilience of the soul. In time, we can let our misery be our ministry, helping to walk others sharing the same grief through from survival to thriving. The crushing grip may soften into a gentle hum, a quiet companion that reminds us we are still here, still capable of grace, and never truly alone.
Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe. Who gives and takes away. Who comforts us in our grief and binds up the wounds of the brokenhearted. In the shadow of your wings do we take refuge.
