Grief takes many of the structures within and blows them flat, until much that we think we knew is revealed for illusion, and there is space in that unmaking for new and beautiful realisations to form.
Whether someone is grieving a lost relationship, a job, fading youth, a family member, humanity, a pet, a partner or a child, grief is the acknowledgement of a death, and this is sacred business. We tend to hold on to the idea that everything will stay the same, when in reality everything is always changing, and for something to grow, something must die.
It is possible to let go into the river of grief, allow yourself to be swept into its terrifying flow and learn to swim with it, allowing grief’s transformational gifts to work through you. Grief hurts abysmally, it’s awful, and yet it can also bring light into dark places, bring love into old wounds and can open doors that were locked shut. The pain of grief is the pain of dying, of allowing recognition of the truth of our physical mortality.
Our culture has an uneasy relationship with grief. To the observer, there is usually no obvious sign that someone is grieving, no traditional black armband to give us the insight that the wild-eyed woman weeping on the bus is devastated by the absence of someone precious. That the man walking in the park talking to an invisible partner is breaking inside from the pain of their loss. Our rituals of grief can be stilted and leave us feeling hollow and empty as family and friends go back to their lives and we are left, bereft, wandering through the ravaged shell of our own world with no ceremonies to guide us, often feeling unseen, unheard, and silenced.
River of Grief workshops are, like all of Gina and Lee’s offerings, deeply experiential, and based on the needs of the group. There is a place for acknowledgement of individual stories, and then to transcend them and mine the often bewildering experiences of grief for insights and understanding. You can design your own rituals and ceremonies, to find what is right for you in your grieving, to honour this passage. You will start to dance with your grief instead of being flattened by it.
Gina and Lee lost their three year old daughter Blaise to cancer in 2013, and have been dancing with grief ever since. Grief has opened them to depths of awareness they never knew before. They understand that grief is the flip side of the coin of love; that the size of the grief is the size of the love of that which has been lost.
Ultimately, by knowing the river of grief as the teacher that it is, we can find peace and a new readiness to move into a more radiant way of being in life, understanding that while we have lost that which is dearest to us, we have also gained something immeasurable, and that grief, at its essence, is a song of love.
Whether someone is grieving a lost relationship, a job, fading youth, a family member, humanity, a pet, a partner or a child, grief is the acknowledgement of a death, and this is sacred business. We tend to hold on to the idea that everything will stay the same, when in reality everything is always changing, and for something to grow, something must die.
It is possible to let go into the river of grief, allow yourself to be swept into its terrifying flow and learn to swim with it, allowing grief’s transformational gifts to work through you. Grief hurts abysmally, it’s awful, and yet it can also bring light into dark places, bring love into old wounds and can open doors that were locked shut. The pain of grief is the pain of dying, of allowing recognition of the truth of our physical mortality.
Our culture has an uneasy relationship with grief. To the observer, there is usually no obvious sign that someone is grieving, no traditional black armband to give us the insight that the wild-eyed woman weeping on the bus is devastated by the absence of someone precious. That the man walking in the park talking to an invisible partner is breaking inside from the pain of their loss. Our rituals of grief can be stilted and leave us feeling hollow and empty as family and friends go back to their lives and we are left, bereft, wandering through the ravaged shell of our own world with no ceremonies to guide us, often feeling unseen, unheard, and silenced.
River of Grief workshops are, like all of Gina and Lee’s offerings, deeply experiential, and based on the needs of the group. There is a place for acknowledgement of individual stories, and then to transcend them and mine the often bewildering experiences of grief for insights and understanding. You can design your own rituals and ceremonies, to find what is right for you in your grieving, to honour this passage. You will start to dance with your grief instead of being flattened by it.
Gina and Lee lost their three year old daughter Blaise to cancer in 2013, and have been dancing with grief ever since. Grief has opened them to depths of awareness they never knew before. They understand that grief is the flip side of the coin of love; that the size of the grief is the size of the love of that which has been lost.
Ultimately, by knowing the river of grief as the teacher that it is, we can find peace and a new readiness to move into a more radiant way of being in life, understanding that while we have lost that which is dearest to us, we have also gained something immeasurable, and that grief, at its essence, is a song of love.