Rebecca Puterbaugh (USA) offers her wise, lived experience practices to help process grief, both in and out of circle.
Life-Friendly Tips to Process Grief – In and Out of Circle
See a therapist. Many are flexible regarding scheduling.
If you have people you trust to witness you and hold space for you without giving unsolicited advice, ask them to do so. Perhaps consider forming a monthly or bi-monthly group with these people, for the purpose of providing a safe space to share grief stories.
Dedicate one full or half day every week as your self-care time. Make it non-negotiable and say “no” to any other obligations during that time.
Journal at least once a week. Aim to fill three pages with stream-of-consciousness writing (write the first thing that pops in your mind and keep going without stopping, editing, or planning).
Create meaningful personal ceremonies. This may be the creation of a literal circle or labyrinth, as I did, or something similarly large and time-consuming. However, though these are great ceremonies to do for a massive release, I recommend doing them sparingly. Create small, daily or weekly ceremonies that include symbolism, items, and actions that are meaningful to you and help you access your inner child for both healing and play. Use the ceremonies to create Home inside yourself.
Change your environment periodically. If you live in the city, go to the country. If you live in the mountains, go to the coast. If you live in a valley, climb the highest peak. Sadness can make our world feel small, and we need occasional reminders that there is a bigger world out there, full of life.
Don’t be scared to live. Let your grief have a front-row seat, let it know you know it’s there, but don’t let it shame you into just surviving. It’s okay to laugh at a stand-up comedian special on Netflix or take a trip to the pool with your kids and go down the waterslide, or giving yourself other such moments of joy. Processing grief doesn’t mean drowning in it. Come up for air. Joy is as much a sacred act as solemn ceremony.
Let your grief move through your body. Put on music that speaks to your grief (Florence and the Machine’s How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful album is my grief-dance music of choice, if you need a starting point). Dim the lights. I wouldn’t recommend candles for this, because you don’t want to have to worry about anything dangerous. Clear an area and close your eyes. Allow yourself to feel the entirety of your grief. Let the music move it through your body. Dance like that -- like stream-of-consciousness in motion. No planning, no editing. Just the movement. Keep going until the dance’s natural end. Hydrate and eat something nourishing and comforting after.
Create art from your grief. Grief can make us think nothing is worthwhile anymore; prove it wrong by giving it an outlet. It matters not what creative form that outlet is; pick the one you are drawn to and that you have time for and then throw yourself in it. After my best friend died, I made myself write a poem every single day for a month, regardless of how short or long the poem was. It helped enormously, and I have continued to write poetry on a fairly regular basis since.
If you have kids, include them in some of these activities. Kids, also, are not immune from grief, and regardless of how much we want to shelter them, they can and will experience trauma. Modeling for them a healthy grief process is as good for them as it will be for you.
Rebecca Puterbaugh is a writer and a single mother living in the Willamette Valley of Oregon. For the past thirteen years, she has independently delved into the world of spirituality and writing, has self-published two poetry books (“Reveries” and “Cycles”), and is currently attending college. She believes in the transformative and affirmative power of both ceremony and the written word, and their ability to bring us into awareness of our innate wholeness.