Nourishing through Grief

This week, I lost my dad.

It was sudden, though not entirely unexpected, yet it still hit with full force.

Grief moves in like a wave you didn’t see coming. It knocks the wind out of you. One moment you’re functioning, the next you’re unraveling.

And the hardest part…besides the deep ache of losing someone you love…is that life doesn’t pause.

Life doesn’t pause.

Everything keeps moving, piling up, asking more than your weary heart feels able to give.

Grief doesn’t come with a guidebook. People ask, “What’s the right way to grieve?” But truthfully, there isn’t one. It’s not a straight line or a tidy process.

Some days call for stillness; others, for distraction. Sometimes we long for the comfort of others, and sometimes, solitude is the only thing that feels safe. The answer shifts moment by moment…and that’s okay.

What I do know is that making space for the pain matters.

There’s a temptation to keep going, to stay busy, to hold it all together. Those things are all fine, but pain we don’t allow ourselves to feel doesn’t just vanish, it settles into the body. It becomes heaviness, exhaustion, tightness, sometimes even illness.

The body remembers what the heart tries to forget.

So I’ve been practicing something small: when I notice the wave of grief rising, I pause. I close my eyes. I breathe. I picture the feeling, not to analyze it, but to witness it. I imagine where it lives in my body…my chest, my stomach, my throat. I give it a shape or a color. And then, with each exhale, I gently picture releasing a little of it. Not all. Just enough for now.

This soft, simple practice helps me feel like I’m not being swallowed whole. That I’m still here. Still breathing. Still healing.

To read more on making space for the pain in your life, read my blog: https://www.benourished360.net/when-your-heart-is-crushed-finding-strength-in-rest

And when it comes to nourishing through grief, lean into the basics. For me that looks like:

• Resting when I can, even if it’s just closing my eyes for a moment.

• Drinking water, knowing that my body needs hydration to function.

• Taking deep, steady breaths to anchor myself in the present.

• Reaching out, because carrying this alone is really heavy.

• Finding small moments of gratitude, not to bypass the pain, but to anchor myself in something that uplifts.

This is not a how-to. This is just what’s helping me to move through the ache.

If you’re walking through grief right now, I hope you know you’re not doing it wrong. There’s no script. No timeline. No perfect posture for this kind of loss.

You’re allowed to feel it all…messy, angry, numb, tender, weepy, silent. However it shows up, it’s okay.

And if you’ve been through this kind of heartbreak before, I’d love to hear from you.

What has helped you walk through your own grief? What comforts, practices, or small mercies made a difference for you?

Comment below or send me a message. I truly want to know. We heal a little deeper when we do it together. ❤️

To read more on grief, here are a few links:

https://www.benourished360.net/navigating-change-when-life-demands-a-new-normal

https://www.benourished360.net/from-shadows-to-strength-healing-through-grief-and-exhaustion