Grief - A Healing Process to Move Forward

"Disenfranchised grief"—the pain of a significant loss that is not openly acknowledged or socially supported.

No one can understood how to grieve for his or her losses that other don’t understand or that possibly you yourself don’t understand.

Kenneth J. Doka, PhD, a professor of gerontology at the College of New Rochelle in New York, who created the term in 1985, said, “disenfranchised grief could be produced from any number of conditions.”

Throughout my life, I suffered from many losses (loss of innocence, virginity, unborn child, loss of giving life, loss of family, 1^st marriage, trust in men, loss of mind to Bipolar Disorder, loss of back to car accident, loss of friends, aunt, loss of ½ of life when I turned 50, loss of grandma, loss of adolescence, loss of trust, security, loss of 25 years of writing and so much more)

I’d like to share my meditation healing process with you. Close your eyes and use your imagination.

Casually strolling through a fragrant meadow the forest up head calls to me. Mother Nature speaks in my mind that she will guide me to my healing place. I walk toward the inviting forest. With me, I carefully carry my “griefs”; reverently and with solitude. The temperature drops as I cross from bright sunlight to only dappled light filtered by the treetops.

Seriousness replaces my playful interest in my surroundings. I begin the healing ceremony to give those “griefs” held in my mind and heart for so long a new home.

Many of the “griefs” I carry have been with me nearly my entire life. Mother Nature tells me it’s time to let them go.

I’m not exactly sure where I am going; only knowing that when I get there I will know it is the right place. Then, I spot the spongy moss and fragrant. Here the earth is soft and pliable.

With only my hands for tools, I dig a hole large enough to lie into it. The ground is cool, a bit damp, and I smell the rich moist soil.

While lying in the hole, my receptacle, I think about each grief I hold in my mind and heart. I talk to each one, telling them I have found a new home for them.

I feel each grief as it passes from my body into Mother Earth’s cradle. There is no moaning, no keening, just a kind of simple release. As each grief surfaces in my mind, passes through my body and rests within Mother Earth’s body, lightness, a feeling or sense of closure told me the grief had left my body and found safety in Mother Earth’s arms.

The healing process transcended time. Some “griefs”, reluctant to leave, required a bit of gentle coaching and loving reassurance that it was time for them to move on, time for me to move on.

Finally, my mind and heart, my vessel emptied. The healing process too quite some time, however not arduous. Slow and gentle – for my “griefs” and for me.

Slowly I pick my self up and step out of Mother Earth’s cradle. I brush off soil and some dried leaves. Looking down at the hole I dug in the ground, Refreshed, motivated, inspired. Eager to leave the darkening forest and return to the warm, sunny meadow, I kneel, give the earth a soft caress and stand.

My “griefs” and I had come to terms. I had been their home for so many years; kept them from harm. They in turn kept me from moving on at times. So, now, they can rest easy in Mother Earth, knowing I’m still safe, but I will now be moving forward with grace, faith, and perseverance. I’ll always remember my “griefs.” But, that’s what they’ll remain now – a memory, no longer a deterrent.

With quickening steps, I head back toward the light I see ahead of me.