A Reflection On Grief

When the leaves fall in my neighborhood, I am brought into my experience of grief more fully. This time of year the trees offer a reflection of the cyclic and natural process of death and loss that aligns with the deepest grief of my lifetime. My sister died, at age 21, 18 years ago on November 11th. It is really weird to realize that it has been so long. The time since feels both much shorter and forever ago. While the truth of this loss is always present, the grief shifts and transforms. What remains essential is that I offer myself the opportunity to feel the grief as it comes up.

We grieve because we love. Losing, saying goodbye and letting go of what we love is hard, it can feel devastating. And…what a gift to have felt that love.

As a culture we work so hard to avoid grief. But it is inevitable. We can’t avoid grief, and continued attempts to avoid or postpone it lead to suffering. Our grief extends, overwhelms or stays stuck in our bodies hidden as difficult body communications labeled as “mental illness”, “chronic disease” or “chronic pain” when our systems don’t allow us and our communities the space and willingness to grieve.

I saw this attempt to avoid grief acutely and prominently in my training, and continue to see it in how much of the western medical field operates. We are taught that it is our job to prevent death. That death is a failure. But, just like grief, death is inevitable. We are being asked to do the impossible. No wonder so much of the medical system leads from fear. This doesn’t only show up in the emergency room or ICU where our body’s proximity to death is more apparent and, perhaps, imminent. It shows up in the daily clinical experience of providers throughout the medical system. Through the language with which we share our advice; as we say you “need to take this medicine” or how our charting removes choice from the healing experience by labeling our patient as “non-compliant”.

But fear doesn’t support healing. Feelings of safety and trust are essential to move our bodies towards wellness. I don’t see that it is possible to settle into trust if all our actions are directed towards avoiding grief and death. What if western medical training taught that it was our job to help people thrive instead of keeping them alive?

How would this reframe shift our conversations and language?

How would it shift our recommendations?

Hippocrates said "Everyone has a doctor in (them); we just have to help it in its work. The natural healing force within each one of us is the greatest force in getting well." What if we chose to believe him and offer our patients’ bodies that trust?

And for those receiving care, how would it feel to have a medical provider ask:

• What would thriving feel like to you?

• What is your definition of wellness?

• Here are the options I can offer with my knowledge, what choice feels best to you?

• What would you like to shift to move yourself towards thriving for the time you have here on earth?

If you have spaciousness to reflect upon these questions, please do in whatever way best supports you (journaling, voice memos, interpretive dance, visual art…).