Finding meaning in grief

Before you ask, what the heck is she talking about, I am taking a reflective and creative approach to finding meaning in grief. Keep an open mind.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve grown to appreciate the beauty of nature through its many seasons. Winter is currently challenging me, but I’m willing to seek its beauty.

Changes in the season

During the autumn months, I looked forward to drawing back my bedroom curtains each morning, wondering how the leaves had transformed overnight in the trees surrounding my house. The golden yellows, fiery reds, and warm oranges never failed to enchant me. The interplay of morning light and the colours of the leaves created fleeting, unique experiences—daily gifts from nature.  I know my dog in particular loved the rustling of leaves in the breeze and chasing them in the wind.

Why am I writing about this?

Years ago, when I attended a Care of the Dying course.  This was a formal qualification, which I desperately wanted to help me with my career. In one memorable session, our instructor asked us to sit in a circle and imagine a tree losing its leaves during autumn.

• ‘What is it like to prepare for the loss of your leaves?
• “What is it like for the tree to actually lose its leaves?”
  “How does it feel as a leaf detaches and floats to the ground?”
• ‘What is it like for the leaf when it hits the ground?’

We were tasked with writing down our thoughts—not from our perspective, but from the perspective of the tree to these questions and more.

• ‘Have you ever noticed how a tree stands strong even as it’s leaves fall away?
• ‘What lessons might we learn from its quiet endurance?’

When we finished, our stories were placed in the center of the circle. One by one, we took turns picking up a story and reading aloud. What emerged from this exercise was a mosaic of deeply personal insights into loss, change, and letting go. Whilst I don’t think we started off imagining the significance of this exercise, each story reflected a unique perception of grief. It was an unexpectedly moving experience, and by the end, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.

Reflecting on this exercise

Reflecting on this exercise now, I see its lasting significance. Grief is deeply individual, but exercises like this remind us of the shared human experience beneath it.

As I reflect on that long-ago exercise, I am reminded of how grief, like seasons, is both universal and deeply personal.  The tree exercise reminds us to let go when we must, to stand tall through winter’s chill, and to trust in the promise of spring.

If you are experiencing grief or know someone who is, this might be a useful exercise to write about and/or ponder.  You might find this a cathartic exercise to try. If you do, I would love to hear of your experience.