See grief in a new light
[Music]
we grieve
because we love we heal because we find
hope
and connecting with a sense of wonder in
nature
when we are grieving can soothe our
heart and soul
how do we find hope in healing in the
midst of challenges
and in the face of so much loss
the way my hands react to the cold in
winter is a useful metaphor
to explain grief whenever i go outside
when it’s very cold
the tips of my fingers go numb and begin
to hurt
when i come inside and they begin to
warm up they hurt even more for a while
until the pain gradually begins to
soften
and dissipate grief is kind of like that
when a loss happens we can become numb
because it hurts our heart to feel
we can even close off our heart
when the numbness begins to lift and we
begin to realize
the truth of the loss the pain is often
worse
it’s as if our hearts are starting to
warm up
and the initial feelings are much more
painful perhaps
than we even realized
when our hands are numb and cold it is
good for them to warm up
and when our hearts begin to feel the
pain of loss
it is also good for our hearts to warm
up
and open what can help our hurting
hearts
at this time a listening ear
sharing memories a good cry
a song with special meaning this is when
i turn to nature
and wonder when i was 13 and my father
died
a favorite poem of mine was the first
verse
of this one by emily dickinson
hope is the thing with feathers that
perches
in the soul and sings the tune without
the words
and never stops at all i would repeat it
often as i turn to nature in my own
backyard
for solace and for healing
intuitively i knew to close my eyes and
listen to the birds
the red cardinals were my favorites the
bird song was balm to my hurting heart
and ever since is a gift i wait for at
the beginning of each spring
the maple tree in my childhood backyard
was the recipient
of many salty tears its trunk a sturdy
backrest
while i wrote in my journal
nature is a place of hope for me and for
many others
if you watch the way the seasons change
you will find it there
surely hope is at play when the leaves
on the trees fall to the ground in
autumn
with an innate trust that the tree will
butt again
in spring and as many plants stand in
winter baroness
or disappear in the dark soil i can
imagine hope
within them to bud and sprout again
a single seed contains so much
possibility
and so much hope it gets planted in the
darkness often for quite a while
before something shifts and it begins to
transform
and make its way toward the light and
the sun
these metaphors can be helpful for the
griever
to feel themselves deep in the darkness
like a seed
and in their own time allow mourning and
feeling the depth
of their emotions to warm the heart
and open like a newly sprouting plant
when i first read h’s for hawk by helen
mcdonald
i was struck by how the author’s
relationship
with the goshawk named mabel eventually
brought her to face the grief
for her father and helped her cope with
the loss
until she was ready to live her life
again
she was profoundly changed by her
relationship with mabel
h is for hawk and h is for hope
and hope can be the thing with feathers
when it comes to grief hope is a good
word
many who are grieving feel hopeless
helping a person who is grieving find
hope is a beautiful
thing hope helps warm the heart
and helps a person rediscover purpose
and meaning in life
alan woolfelt one of my favorite experts
on grief
writes in the mourner’s book of hope
that hope is the expectation of the good
that is yet to be he says that to
integrate
loss and to move forward with a life of
meaning and love
you must have hope
i often write nature prescriptions for
my clients
take a ten minute walk once a day to
look for signs of hope
in nature stand with your back against a
tree
and feel its steady support
walk or sit at the beach close your eyes
and listen to the waves in your
imagination allow them to
wash over you soothing your soul
john burroughs an american naturalist
said i go to nature to be soothed
and healed and to have my senses put in
order for me having my senses put in
order
is a great way to describe wonder
rachel carson a biologist and
conservationist
invited us in her classic book the sense
of wonder
to look at the world through a child’s
eyes
i pass this wisdom on to my clients when
i prescribe
wonder walks i invite them to step
out their door and discover the nature
right around their home as if seeing it
for the first time
with a sense of childlike discovery
they often kick their shoes off and
literally allow their skin
to connect with the earth i invite them
to find a flower or a plant
and look as closely as they can at it
noticing every detail the shape
and the smell of it you might be
wondering what all this
wandering in nature really has to do
with grief
thanks to many studies and books on
nature
therapy and forced bathing and grieving
we now know that this connection to
nature is stress reducing
increases oxytocin and relaxes the
nervous system
and it is a healing modality that you
can feel the effects of
immediately it’s hard not to be altered
by gazing
at the full moon light or watching the
sunset
or simply standing in a forest as the
light streams through the trees
and nature nature is big enough
to hold your grief a client of mine
walked the beach
daily after his wife died initially
screaming and crying into the wind
gradually crying more softly
until eventually he heard a voice on the
waves
that he recognized as his wife’s
and she told him that all would be well
for him
another client of mine finds wonder and
solace
whenever she visits her horse
the last thing that she and her husband
did together
before his tragic death was ride their
horses
initially it was hard for her to get
back to them
but once she did the horses worked their
healing magic
offering her their soft noses
and understanding eyes she rode her
horse and remembered her husband
and cried visiting the horses
became a source of sweet memories
and comfort for her
yet another client has a tree that she
visits whenever she needs
support she talks to the tree
leans up against it cries
writes in her journal underneath it and
listens to its wisdom
when she asks a question
[Music]
when i was a little girl my father and i
would laugh and play in the backyard
one of my favorite activities with him
was making mud pies
with a little easy bake oven and some
kitchen dishes
i would mix just the right amount of
dirt
with water to make them moist like
little devil’s food cakes and my father
would pretend to eat them
laughing with delight and exclaiming
about how delicious
the little round chocolatey mud pies
tasted
in the months after his death with no
one to talk to
i returned to the backyard to make
those round and moist mud pies
this time they had a special ingredient
my grief tears
i would offer the mud pies up to the
trees
and to the sky and close my eyes and
pretend
that i could hear his laughter
what i have come to learn through my own
healing
and the healing stories and healing
experiences of my clients
is that after allowing space for our
feelings
and finding genuine support
reconnecting with a sense of wonder and
the beauty of
nature can heal us when we are grieving
does nature play a role in giving you
insight wisdom and comfort
can you imagine how it might be helpful
if you’re grieving
to take those big feelings into nature
and be held by the beauty of the world
and even by the fragmentation of the
world
perhaps the fragmentation mirrors our
own disconnection
from our feelings or a wounded place on
the earth
may stir up compassion for the earth
and for our own wounds
ralph waldo emerson in his 1836
essay nature said i feel that nothing
can befall me in life
which nature cannot repair
in my home i look at the sun streaming
through the window
and onto my writing desk as i turn my
head
i see the chickadees gathering suet
to take back to the nest perhaps for
themselves
or for their young hopeful ones waiting
not so patiently for their next meal
hope can be as fragile as a small bird’s
wings
but if we trust in it it will take us
where we need to go
to find healing hope is the thing with
feathers
that perches in the soul
thank you
[Music]
you