Grief is such a strange thing. It was only within the past few years that I gave myself permission to grieve in a real way around things other than the physical passing of a person. We grieve so much, and so often over the course of our lives.

People who are still alive, past versions of ourselves, narratives/ideologies, the future we had hoped for, expectations, dreams, versions of our partners, our childhoods … the list is huge. Whatever grief you may encounter over the course of your life, I’ve come to understand two things that seem to remain true over time:

1. There is nothing to really be ‘done’ about grief, rather, rather, grief requires witnessing

2. You don’t really ‘get over’ or ‘move past’ it, your ability to carry it just gets … bigger (see image above for a lovely illustrated version of this concept)

Images courtesy of Brit — Instagram found here.

I asked my beautiful humans on Instagram what they do to help soothe the pain that is associated with grief and I got some really lovely answers. It is my hope that if you’re moving through something, that you’ll find some of these useful, or at least some peace in knowing that our grief is so universal, it is one of many examples of our visceral humanity, and by extension, connectedness.

I will also include some of my favourite grief quotes from writers and other literature that have provided me solace over the years of drudging around this sac of flesh and bones.

“Allowing yourself to feel and acknowledge all the emotions.”

“Connection with people who just sit with you.”

“I always find momentary relief in my ‘being here and now’ practices.”

“Being outside. For me, it’s gardening or hiking.”

“Out in the trees in nature thinking about all of my senses in the moment … feeling the grief.”

“Lots of letting your body cry and outputting emotions, I think.”

“Ice cream. Sleep. Hugs. Driving elsewhere. Food. Drinks.”

“The only thing that seems to help me is talking to someone that has been through a similar experience.”

“A gentle balance of alone time and social interaction with people that adore me. Watching comfort shows over and over and over and over and over. The food and the medicine.”

“Breathing. Crying. Sleeping. Ativan. CBD/THC. Gardening.”

“Music.”

“Time.”

“I wish I’d done everything on earth with you.”

— F. Scott Fitzgerald

“Loud music paired with loud singing.”

“Finding some shred of inner peace to hang on to.”

“Allow the grief. Better to throw up than to sit in discomfort avoiding the inevitable.”

“Moving with he feelings and trusting the way the body expresses it.”

“Changing the thoughts. Remembering genuinely happier times elsewhere.”

“Emotional release through art, writing and tears. Being in my feels.”

“Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.”

— Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

“We often forget about the existence of all those women who carried Vietnam on their backs, while their husbands and sons carried weapons on theirs. We forget them because under their cone-shaped hats they did not look up at the sky. They waited only for the sun to set on them so they could faint instead of falling asleep. Had they taken the time to let the sleep come, they would have imagined their sons blown into a thousand pieces or the bodies of their husbands drifting along a river like a flotsam. American slaves were able to sing about their sorrow in the cotton fields. Those women let their sadness grow in the chambers of their hearts.”

— Kim Thúy, Ru

“Our lives become a protracted mourning for, or an endless tantrum about, the lives we were unable to live. But the exemptions we suffer, whether forced or chosen, make us who we are.”

— Adam Phillips