We cannot treat grief the same way we treat the majority of life’s other challenges: analyse, soldier through, overcome. Because grief is not something we get over. We are neurologically wired to forever give those we love a place in our hearts and minds — which is kind of a beautiful thing, right? So grief is simply not something we let go of, fix or leave behind. Instead, it becomes part of our journey through life. A steady companion that connects us to everyone we have loved (and love, still), all the places we have already been, and all the places we are yet to go.

Grieving is not something we really need to learn to do. There isn’t exactly a manual for how to go about it. But unfortunately for most of us, we have grown up in a society that seems to have forgotten how to grieve. And so, when loss and grief come knocking, we are often left to meet them alone — unprepared, unequipped, unsupported.

In my experience, grief is active work, but it also asks us to surrender. To trust that we can be drawn into the depths of our pain and resurface. But it is extremely difficult if not impossible to surrender whilst also hold ourselves, keep our life running, and hold space to grieve. To reallylet grief in, we need others. We need held spaces. We need to grieve together so we can grieve alone.

So in all of our spaces, we slow down. We let go of any agenda to heal, overcome or transform. Choosing to trust grief to carry us down turbulent rivers and out into open waters again. That doesn’t mean you have to like the ride. You can go kicking and cursing the whole way — Lord knows I have. It’s the going that counts, because let’s face it: you don’t want to be stuck waist-deep in the thrashing waters forever.