Remedies for the grief wave
Cultivating a list of soothing actions when the mind goes blank
I have had so many conversations about grief in the past two weeks. Election-related grief; two party system-related grief; genocide-related grief; heartbreak-related grief; disillusionment-related grief; rejection-related grief; seasonal depression-related grief; illness-related grief; pain-related grief... the list goes on and on. Scorpio season seems to kick up all of the grief that has been simmering under the surface, forcing us to process and reckon with the sadness that has perhaps—probably—been there all along. Existing at this point in time is objectively exhausting, objectively brimming with sadness. I log into my social media accounts and read the news reports of more women and children being violently murdered in Gaza. I am not quite numb, but no longer surprised. I read news reports that known criminals, sex traffickers and child rapists will be heading my country’s government. I am not quite numb, but no longer surprised. I spend hundreds of dollars each month on the medication that I need in order to walk, while my brother in Austria spends no money on the medication he needs in order to survive. I am not quite numb, but no longer surprised. The days are getting shorter. The sun barely shines anymore. I am tired and weepy and all of my joints ache. I am no longer surprised that this is how my body feels, how it reacts under the weight of this heavy world. I still experience an incredible amount of joy. I am lucky and grateful to be alive, to live in such comfort and privilege. Life is honestly so, so good. But a good life does not mean it is absent of grief. I am human. I am sad sometimes. I am not clinically depressed, but I have acute and situational bouts of deep depression, like many of us. This is, sadly, a natural byproduct of living in late-stage capitalism. This is, sadly, a natural byproduct of living during the end times of the American empire. I am trying to stay present. I am trying to stay engaged. I want to be ready for whatever comes next, whether it be a barely perceptible shift in policy, or full-blown fascism. I will fight in the ways that I can—through making art, through using my writing skills to disseminate important information to my community—and I will continue to amplify the experience of disabled, marginalized people so that more and more people understand what we reckon with on a day to day basis.
Part of this work involves combatting the kind of sadness that renders me immobile, renders me apathetic and numb, renders me wordless. Some days I’m so swept up in my grief that I can’t think or read or write. I find having a ready list of remedies—a list of actions that actually make me feel better—helps pull me out of my funk.
I want you all to write out your own list of Grief Remedies, so that you’re never so sad that you can’t think or move or speak or share your gifts with the world. I know this is easier said than done, especially for those with clinical depression and neurodivergence, but after speaking with many friends and loved ones who are clinically depressed and operate on ruminating thought loops, I have heard from them that this kind of preventative care is still quite helpful.
Make your list. Add to it whenever you need to. Refer to it often, especially in the dark times. Here’s mine, as a means of inspiration or a way to get started:
Grief Remedies
Drinking a big glass of water in one sitting.
I don’t know why, but it always helps—like my brain is getting extra cushion and it kind of resets my neural pathways to help snap me out of it. Maybe the endorphins from accomplishing something that’s “good for me,” too.
Yoga (or “yogs,” if you live in the Natoci-Johnson household, lol).
For me it’s a gentle stretching routine under the guise of Hatha yoga—I’ll share my routine sometime soon. Maybe a sweaty Bikram class is more your vibe, or you live and die by your girl Adriene. When I lived in LA I had a fancy (discounted) membership to a studio and solely took the warm Yin yoga classes, which were heavenly. This will only help if you’re already into yoga—I don’t think trying something new here is necessarily a true grief remedy, more of a grief distraction, so if another type of gentle exercise is more your thing, do that!
Fresh air.
No walking, hiking, or moving required. Simply stepping outside and then taking a few deep breaths can do wonders, even if tears are streaming down your face.
Laughter.
You know when you’re crying so hard it somehow becomes easy and necessary to laugh? Yeah, lean into that. A simple, biological endorphin boost. Always.
Journaling through the thought spirals.
To be honest, I usually don’t get far into the writing process when the sadness is super rough, but somehow the act of just getting a few words out of my head and onto a page seems to make the sadness dissipate. There are sooo many entries in my journal that are like… 2 sentences long… and that’s okay!
Physical touch.
Sometimes hugging someone you feel safe with and crying into their neck is the only thing that will do.
Crying!
How many times have I touted the benefits of crying on this Substack? My therapist recently showed me how crying through the sadness, until there are no tears left, really REALLY helps you let go of it. When I let myself fully feel my grief and not rush the reaction I’m having, I end up feeling calm and refreshed, like a new person.
Soup (or other nourishing foods).
No, the really yummy junky comfort foods won’t make you feel better, they’ll only fill a void. Proper nourishment, especially warming, grounding meals that flood your cells with nutrients, have a similar effect as downing that glass of water in one sitting. On a cellular level, your grief-stricken self needs comfort, too. Comfort those cells! Make them feel plump and satisfied with your next meal (even if you need to ask someone else to make it for you).
Rest.
Sometimes the only think you can do when you feel that grief paralysis is to close your eyes, whether or not you can actually get any sleep. The phrase “you’ll feel better in the morning” is typically always true. You really will feel better in the morning, even if you have to go to bed at 6PM the night before because you can’t do anything else.
Somatic poses + vagus nerve stimulation.
Physiological sighs, box breathing, hand over your belly and hand over your heart, voo breathing (thanks to Izzy for this one!), massaging your neck and shoulders, gentle rocking, lying in a fetal position—all good places to start as you work through your grief.
Reaching out to your comfort person.
Is there someone in your life that consistently exudes comfort? Be it a friend, a family member, that person you met online who sees you… sometimes reaching out to them, whether you talk about your grief or just check in and see what they’re up to, can be the biggest balm.
Showering/bathing—or swimming.
Something about letting water run over my body makes me feel anew. Like a secular baptism, I feel reborn with a recalibrated sense of hope and perspective that makes my grief feel more manageable.
Lighting beeswax candles.
My dear
shared that lighting candles after sundown—along with daily walks during sunset—have been her go-to remedies for combatting seasonal depression. I have done both in the past and have found them incredibly, wonderfully helpful remedies, but they haven’t been a part of my daily routine. Since walking is still iffy for me right now, I’m going to incorporate the candle-lighting ritual into my life for the fall/winter seasons. Thank you, Lucy, for this genius tip/reminder!!
I have this list written out in my journal and my notes app so that I can turn to it when my mind goes blank with grief. It’s honestly nothing groundbreaking, and I know I’ve shared similar lists before, but somehow naming it GRIEF REMEDIES feels so powerful and comforting to me right now. I look forward to finding more niche and nuanced remedies to add to it (like a very specific soup recipe, for example, or a specific yoga sequence that makes me feel my very best), but in the meantime it’s so soothing to have this available for darkness. Couple this exercise with your JOY INVENTORY to blast light all over your grief.
Take care.
xo, Lys
News:
The book I designed for
, Look About You, has launched today! Inside you’ll find 366 secular prayers that bring hope and light to your days. This is a beautiful grief remedy, and I’m looking forward to reading these every day to help alleviate some heaviness. Order your copy here.
Mmmmm I feel like this could be a beautiful zine!
thank you for this lovely thoughtful
simple reminder of how to care for ourselves. i needed it.