In the terrible days and months after losing someone or something dear to us, we may experience a swirl of painful emotions, moods, and even symptoms and sensations. Being in grief's terrain can be unspeakably difficult, a time when we feel lost, disoriented, brokenhearted, and unsure if we'll ever feel joyful or even okay again.
We have written Opening to Grief as a companion or guide for people who may be grieving deeply for the first time as well as for those who have lived with grief for many years. It is also a book for all of us who continue to bump up against cultural assumptions of “appropriate” ways to grieve.
As coauthors, we draw on Claire's decades-long work leading bereavement groups, listening as people sit together, courageously ask difficult questions, cry, laugh, and support each other in learning to bear sorrow and go on. Claire is also an experienced yoga teacher and Buddhist chaplain. In this book, when we use the pronoun “I,” we are referring to Claire's life and work experiences. We also draw on Marnie's years as a writer, photographer, and storyteller; she is the primary wordsmith for the book.
Both of us practice meditation. We will introduce you to some basic ideas about being mindful: paying a kind of warmhearted attention to life as it unfolds in the present moment; being aware of your thoughts and feelings without getting caught up in them or judging them; relaxing and settling into calm and stillness; and feeling grateful for the life that is yours. We show you how it is possible to lean toward and stay with raw, uncomfortable feelings of grief, even when you feel overwhelmed and want to run away.
Writing can help you make sense of what has happened and find meaning. We show you how to get started, even if you think you're not a writer, or you don't feel confident that you can find the right words to say what you mean.
We'll also draw upon the healing powers of making art, for both amateurs and experienced practitioners. We encourage you to embrace “beginner's mind,” let go of judgments and self-criticism, and plunge in.
When painful things happen, everyone needs each other more than in ordinary times. We reflect on how grief's most unwelcome and disturbing aspects and experiences may become fertile ground for growth and change. We look at how suffering creates an opening that allows us—if and when we are ready—to connect more deeply with others and seek out and create beloved communities.
We invite you to read sequentially, or simply choose chapters that appeal to you or seem particularly appropriate to your life. Each chapter concludes with a simple meditation. We also include a few suggestions as starting points for your own explorations. These aren't intended as homework or instructions, but as simple actions or reflections to consider, leave aside, or adapt to your own experiences and interests.
In Part Two we answer questions that people often ask in Claire's bereavement groups. Their pressing concerns, along with the wish to help all who grieve, inspired the writing in this book.
In Part Three, “Deepening Practices,” we offer more detail about the practices we've introduced earlier. And finally, in Part Four we include a list of favorite poems, books, and online resources.
In writing Opening to Grief, we are acutely aware that everyone's grief is profoundly different, and that some reflections and practices that we have chosen to write about may not speak to you at all. Or they may not speak to you now, or any time soon. Some may feel out of reach, or just not for you. We trust that you will take what's useful and let go of the rest.
We encourage you to be patient and offer yourself great kindness and compassion as you learn to trust your own compass and find your own true north.
Those who will not slip beneath
the still surface on the well of grief,
turning down through its black water
to the place we cannot breathe,
will never know the source from which we drink,
the secret water, cold and clear,
nor find in the darkness glimmering, the small round coins,
thrown by those who wished for something else.
—David Whyte