Discover how grief moves in waves

Grief: The Many Faces of Loss and the Invitation to Heal

Grief touches every one of us, often in ways we don't expect. In this reflection, I explore the many forms grief can take, how it moves through us in waves rather than stages, and how, through breath and body awareness, we can begin to meet and integrate what arises with compassion.

When we hear the word grief, most of us think of the death of a loved one. A final farewell that leaves a space nothing else can quite fill. But grief wears many faces. It can arrive in the ending of a relationship, the loss of a job, or when our children grow up and leave home. Sometimes, it emerges quietly, as we realise that a certain chapter of life is over. A version of ourselves we once knew has faded, and something new is waiting to emerge.

Grief is the natural human response to loss. It's a reflection of love, connection, and meaning. And yet, it can feel unpredictable. A tide that moves in its own rhythm.

What makes grief so complex is that it isn't only tied to the present. Often, current losses awaken older ones that we never had the space or safety to feel at the time. Something such as a child leaving home or a relationship changing can bring forward emotions from long ago, old wounds that rise, asking to be seen and honoured.

For many women, this resurfacing can feel particularly strong during perimenopause. As hormones shift, the body's natural mechanisms for holding things down soften. Feelings that were once neatly tucked away, such as sadness, anger, regret, begin to surface. It's as if the body is saying, It's time. This stage of life can become an invitation to process and integrate what earlier versions of us couldn't. Not because we did anything wrong, but because we now have the awareness, compassion and strength to meet ourselves more fully.

The Many Movements of Grief

Psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross first identified five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. While these stages can be a useful framework, grief itself is rarely tidy or linear.

We don't move neatly from one stage to the next. Instead, grief tends to flow like waves. One moment we might feel acceptance, and the next, find ourselves back in anger or deep sadness. Some days feel calm and spacious, while others bring a sudden surge of emotion that catches us off guard.

There is no "right" way to grieve. The process is deeply individual and influenced by our history, our nervous system, our relationships, and our capacity for self-compassion. What matters most is allowing the feelings their rightful place, giving them space to move through the body rather than holding them in.

Over time, as grief is expressed and integrated, the sharp edges begin to soften. We start to carry our losses differently. Not as weights holding us down, but as threads woven into the fabric of who we are.

The Gift Within Grief

Grief, though painful, holds a hidden intelligence. It reminds us of our capacity to love, to feel deeply, and to transform. Each wave, no matter how fierce, brings the possibility of healing, if we can meet it with gentleness and presence.

In honouring our grief, we honour our humanity.

And in doing so, we find our way back — not to who we were before, but to a deeper, truer version of ourselves.

Supporting Grief Through the Body and Breath

The body holds the imprints of our experiences — not just our joys, but also our griefs. Through gentle somatic work and breath practices, we can begin to release what has been held within and find greater ease in both body and heart.

In my work, I combine breathwork, somatic awareness and Therapeutic enquiry to help people meet their emotions safely and with curiosity. Grief doesn't need to be rushed or "fixed." It needs to be witnessed, felt, and integrated, allowing us to reconnect with the aliveness that sits beneath the sorrow.

If you are in a season of loss, transition, or emotional heaviness, know that you don't have to navigate it alone. Healing begins with a single breath, a willingness to feel, and the gentle reminder that what is rising is ready to be released.