“When we are brave enough to sit with our pain, it deepens our ability to sit with the pain of others. It shows us how to love them.” — Valarie Kaur

There is an ancient Inuit fable called Skeleton Woman, made popular by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes, who wrote Women Who Run with the Wolves.

Here is a synopsis: A young woman is thrown into the ocean where she lives for decades as a skeleton. A fisherman casts his line and snags the skeleton. Thinking he has caught a huge fish he eagerly throws out a net and reels it in. The woman tries to disentangle herself from the net but quickly gets more entwined. When the bones emerge, the fisherman screams in terror, grabs his line and flees to his snow house not realizing the woman skeleton is still attached. Later, when he lights his whale-oil lamp, he is surprised to see her all tangled and crumpled on the snow floor. Perhaps the lamplight softens her features, or perhaps he is lonely, but somehow he now sees her in a new way. A feeling of kindness comes over him. Slowly, gently, like a mother toward a child, he untangles her from the fishing line and places the bones carefully back together, covering her with fur to keep her warm. He falls asleep and dreams something sad during the night. A tear falls from his eye. Wanting nothing more than to come back to life, and feeling very thirsty, she reaches over and drinks his tear while he sleeps. She holds his heart, gently beating it as a drum while softly singing. As she does so, her flesh returns and her body is restored. They wake the next morning wrapped around each other in a good and lasting way.

Inuit fables traditionally focus on the cycle of life, death and resurrection. This one also offers a powerful metaphor for what it means to stay with grief rather than flee from it. If we can allow ourselves to stay with difficult feelings like pain and sadness rather than dismiss them, if we can see our suffering and that of another in a warmer light, we can emerge from grief with a greater sense of connection to ourselves and others. 

“Do what you can, with what you’ve got, where you are.” Squire Bill Widener (1913)

Grief has taught me many things over the last eight years. I have experienced the powerful shroud of loss, overlooked the tiny rays of sunshine bidding me to peek out, objected as I was forced to transform inside its lonely cocoon, fought the fears that come with being alone and ambivalently welcomed my own company. Along the way, I learned the importance of relying on the safety net that family, friends and community provide and strengthening valued friendships. I struggled with holding on to gratitude and maintaining faith in a meaningful future. Working on acceptance of my new reality, staying in the moment, forging a new identity and expanding interests were my constant homework. Even though my grief journey left me with a more weather-worn sense of self, by taking the pilgrimage with others I didn’t feel so alone in my experience. And by absorbing the collective wisdom of other grievers, I grew as a person and learned a great deal along the way.

Struggling with regret after a loss is an aspect of grief that many people experience. Take Eliot, for example (not his real name). Reflecting on his state of mind after his wife died, he said, “I have so much regret. I can’t stop thinking about it.” He was tormented by feelings of remorse and guilt. It had been over a year since his wife died, and his regrets had never abated. His wife had been ill for several years and, with help from caregivers, he took care of her. “I wasn’t present enough for my wife,” was one of his laments. “And sometimes, when I got frustrated, I wasn’t always nice. On the final night I left the room for a while, and she died. She must have wanted me there, and I wasn’t.”

“Earth is perfectly placed in what astronomers call a star’s ‘Goldilocks zone’ where the sun isn’t too hot or too cold but just right. This advantageous distance has allowed life to flourish on Earth, with the sun bathing our planet in life-giving warmth…”

Grieving the loss of a loved one is a difficult journey that everyone navigates in their own way. Your ability to cope depends on several things. First, your basic resilience and attitude about life. Second, your strategies for dealing with emotions. Third, your ability to ask for help and get social support. 

Whether it is anticipated, unexpected or traumatic, the circumstance of the loss is also significant. Multiple losses, whether they occurred all at once, or come in quick succession with little time to mourn each one can overwhelm anyone’s ability to cope — despite your resilience, ability to deal with emotions or the extent of your social network. Suffering multiple losses is called “bereavement overload” or “cumulative grief.” Sometimes a surge of losses is just too much to bear. A recent loss, or even an expectation of another, may trigger all the pain of earlier losses, leaving you at risk of falling into incapacitating depression or “complex grief.” During such a time it’s imperative to keep several things in mind.