This past week marked not only the US presidential election but also the four year anniversary of my mom’s death. This week was full with grief. Grief is such a big part of life, a universal human condition that touches us all, yet is seldom spoken about. It actually connects us very deeply.
There are many forms of grief, ranging from personal to collective:
Personal grief, such as career dissatisfaction or major life transitions
Creative grief from the endings of inspired endeavors
Grief from losing a part of yourself
Interpersonal grief from losing a loved one or relationship
Collective grief when witnessing the world’s atrocities, such as genocide and war
Grief manifests in varying intensities and shapes—sometimes sharp and multi-edged, other times soft and elastic. In 2020, amid the ongoing global pandemic grief, my family experienced a significant personal loss from a traumatic accident. I couldn’t see the edges of my grief; it was too immense, vast, and dark.
Without realizing it at the time my creative brain and design process (that applies to both my life and work) was supporting me. My process always begins with discovery research for understanding. Driven by curiosity and a strong desire for growth, I tend to immerse myself in learning. At this incredibly difficult time, I was needing to tend to new to me “death tasks” while also seeking a way to process great change. I immersed myself in research about all things death and grief. This ranged from learning the practical aspects of what must be done when someone dies to exploring Buddhist teachings on fear and acceptance. I also studied the design of cultural mourning rituals. Throughout this process, I was struck by the dichotomy between the pragmatic preparations for death and the profound spiritual and somatic experiences of grief.
During the same year, I also happened to be working with my former client, Better Place Forests, an environmental start-up creating natural alternatives to traditional cemeteries. Our work focused on experience design for choosing memorial trees over gravestones, end-of-life planning, as well as creating resource guides to support those experiencing loss. I like to think that my personal experiences fostered a more empathetic approach to our design solutions.
Creative exploration also guided me in designing and facilitating my first remembrance ceremony to honor my mom one year after her passing. I interwove small, meaningful rituals into an intimate memorial service for our family gathering at one of her favorite places in nature. Some rituals were inspired by cultural practices (that felt somewhat foreign yet significant), and others celebrated her unique personality, her favorite things, our memories, and our individual needs for emotional expression and closure.
Through all my research, creative work, and daily practices, I spent years observing grief and came to know it more intimately. At first, it felt like what author Francis Weller described as "a most unwelcome guest." However over time, I gradually opened the door to grief—first just a crack, then a bit wider. I began with brief conversations, and eventually invited grief in to sit for tea. It can be challenging to accept that a relationship with grief will not in turn make it any “easier”. As writer Allyson Dinneen noted, "Nothing, not even previous grief, prepared me again for grief."
"Nothing, not even previous grief, prepared me again for grief."
I believe each experience of loss is unique, to be felt as intensely as it demands, regardless of past encounters. Observing and befriending it is an ongoing practice. While it cannot lessen our grief, my hope is that this practice helps us greet this guest that will, with certainty, visit us again and again.
The insightful writer Lisa Olivera shared, “I have also felt the results of my practice, the playing out of what I've been rehearsing. I have felt myself being who I hope to be during times of deep difficulty. I have felt myself stay with the ache, which has helped me stay with the humanity of myself and others…I want to practice experiencing little bits of freedom where they are, in conversations and in poems and in every single move each of us makes toward something more beautiful.”
We often question how grief and joy can possibly coexist? But they can — sometimes within the same tearful memory, or in the smallest but most significant ritual. It is a beautiful practice. No one can articulate this beauty better than one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver, in her poem Heavy from the collection Thirst.
Heavy
by Mary Oliver
That time
I thought I could not
go any closer to grief
without dying
I went closer,
and I did not die.
Surely God
had his hand in this,
as well as friends.
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poet said,
was nowhere to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel
(brave even among lions),
“It is not the weight you carry
but how you carry it—
books, bricks, grief—
it’s all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it
when you cannot, and would not,
put it down.”
So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?
Have you heard
the laughter
that comes, now and again,
out of my startled mouth?
How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe
also troubled—
roses in the wind,
The sea geese on the steep waves,
a love
to which there is no reply?
A gift to you, resources for grief
📚 To read
The Wild Edge of Sorrow by Francis Weller: My favorite book that greatly supported me in my grief practice
The Grief Deck: A collaboration on interactive cards to help us meet grief where we are at
A Beginner’s Guide to the End: A practical guide book I came to know from my Better Place Forests work
📻 To listen to
For Small Creatures Such as We audio book by Sasha Sagan A beautiful book read by the author, on loss, ritual, and celebration of life
All There Is: Grab the tissues, this beautiful podcast series with Anderson is profoundly beautiful
📺 To watch
Unknown: Cave of Bones on Netflix: Anthropologists uncover what may be the world’s earliest gravesite and explore the ritual of death
Extraordinary Rituals: Circle of Life episode: Travel the world to see how life and death are celebrated and honored in various cultures
Limitless: Acceptance episode: Exploring what it would be like to experience our own death (before we die)
💀 To explore
Hello Mortal’s Death Archetypes: Find your death archetype, mine is The Mystic (Thanks to
for sharing)The Dinner Party: Vulnerable, crack-your-heart-open grief gatherings with others at the virtual dinner table
Tiu de Haan’s ritual design for honoring the dead
I’m always open to speaking about grief and sharing experiences and support. Whether we know each other well or barely at all, you’re always welcome to reach out. Sending everyone extra care!
What a gorgeous reflection on grief. Thanks for sharing such heartfelt and beautiful thoughts on such a profoundly human experience. Sending you so much love, Sarah!