Letting Go: An Embodied Practice for Grief Tending
- Anne Lawrence, Ph.D.
- Sep 30
- 4 min read
Updated: Oct 10
A Time to Mourn
On the Gulf Coast of Florida, autumn’s arrival is barely perceptible, yet my dreams have been haunted by fallen leaves as far as the eye can see.
In the short span of a month, two of my cherished friends have died, one in a courageous struggle with cancer, the other in a tragic car accident. Words cannot express my grief for their loss or my gratitude for their lives.
Nevertheless, to heal my heartbreak, I have turned to books for support and inspiration as I have since my childhood. (My first word was “booky.”)
This September, I have especially appreciated rereading Francis Weller’s The Wild Edge of Sorrow: Rituals of Renewal and the Sacred Work of Grief. A soul-centered psychotherapist, Weller considers grief to be “essential” for “finding and maintaining emotional intimacy with life, with one another, and with our own soul.”
Recognizing that “grief enters our hearts in many ways,” he highlights “Five Gates of Grief,” each one an invitation to soulful living:
The First Gate: Everything We Love, We Will Lose
“Loss and grief are an initiation into a changed landscape, reminding us that everything is passing…We must be willing to live with the ways that death keeps us—paradoxically—aware of whether or not we are fully embracing our lives.”
The Second Gate: The Places That Have Not Known Love
“These are profoundly tender places precisely because they have lived outside of kindness, compassion, warmth, or welcome. These are the places within us that have been wrapped in shame and banished to farthest shores of our lives.”
The Third Gate: The Sorrows of the World
“Whether or not we consciously recognize it, the daily diminishment of species, habitats, and cultures is noted in our psyches. Much of the grief we carry is not personal, but shared, communal.”
The Fourth Gate: What We Expected and Did Not Receive
“We are born expecting a rich and sensuous relationship with the earth and communal rituals of celebration, grief, and healing that keep us in connection with the sacred…The absence of these requirements haunts us, even if we can’t give them a name, and we feel their loss as an ache, a vague sadness that settles over us like a fog.”
The Fifth Gate: Ancestral Grief
“This is the grief we carry in our bodies from sorrows experienced by our ancestors. Much of this grief lingers in a layer of silence, unacknowledged.”
Weller cautions that one gate can open others: “When we experience the loss of someone or something that we love, other places of grief can rise from their hiding places and ask for attention.”
However, he acknowledges that we may find it “easy to dismiss our grief when we compare it to circumstances that we consider to be much worse than our own.” (Recent examples might include the anniversary of the September 11 attacks, the famine in Gaza, and the deepening devastation of our beloved planet.)
Instead, Weller encourages us to regard our grief as “worthy of attention” and to “welcome” it in “whatever form it takes”: “When we do, we open ourselves to our shared experiences in life.” As he affirms, “Grief is our common bond. Opening to our sorrow connects us with everyone, everywhere.”
Grief Threshold
Go outside for a walk.
Walk until you find a natural threshold that evokes your grief.
Turn your back to your grief threshold, and notice what you experience:
What can you see, if anything?
What can you hear, if anything?
What can you smell, if anything?
What can you touch, if anything?
What can you taste, if anything?
How do you feel?
Reflect on the journey that has brought you to your grief threshold here now.
Give thanks for your life.
Face your grief threshold, and turn to your left:
Explore your reasons against experiencing your grief here now.
Give thanks for your protectors.
Face your grief threshold, and turn to your right:
Explore your reasons for experiencing your grief here now.
Give thanks for your encouragers.
Face your grief threshold, and discern whether you would like to experience your grief here now.
If not, you can always return to your grief threshold when you are ready.
If so, continue with the process outlined below.
Stand on your grief threshold.
Feel the ground below you.
As you breathe, receive the Earth’s support through your entire body, from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head.
Give thanks for your connection with all life.
Feel the sunshine above you.
As you breathe, receive the Light’s support through your entire body, from the crown of your head to the soles of your feet.
Give thanks for your connection with Mystery.
Spread out your arms to sense into the greater whole of your grief.
Then bring your cupped palms together to welcome only that part of your grief that you intend to experience here now.
When you are ready to feel your grief, you can place your palms on your chest, and welcome your grief into your heart.
As you breathe, be with your grief, however it emerges.
Notice when you feel ready to pause for today, and honor your needs.
Give thanks for your grief.
Look forward, beyond your grief threshold:
What can you see, if anything?
What can you hear, if anything?
What can you smell, if anything?
What can you touch, if anything?
What can you taste, if anything?
How do you feel?
Imagine the future that awaits you as you heal through grief.
Give thanks for hope.
With gratitude, bow to your grief threshold.
Return home.
You can revisit your grief threshold whenever you wish.
In your journal, write a reflection:
What did I experience during my grief walk?
How do I feel now?
What trustworthy supporters (e.g., my counselor, my spiritual director, my sponsor, my close friend) might help me with my grief process?
What inner strengths might I draw on?
What other resources might facilitate my grief process?
What is my intention now?
