Make yourself a warm drink and take a moment to stop. Really stop. If you can, find somewhere comfortable to sit. Look out of the window and take in the light, the colours and the trees. Autumn has arrived. The mornings feel a little cooler, the evenings are drawing in, and the leaves are beginning to turn. Slowly, some are even starting to fall. There is something about grief and letting go that makes me pause at this time of year.
Perhaps it is the reminder that nothing stays exactly as it was. Or perhaps it is the way autumn asks us to notice something we spend much of our lives trying not to notice: change. People change. Circumstances change. Relationships change. Our lives change. And sometimes, whether we are ready or not, something we love changes or disappears altogether.
Read also ‘PTSD and Grief: When the Body Holds Unprocessed Loss‘
What does letting go mean when grieving?
We use the words “letting go” so easily when we talk about grief.
You need to let go.
It’s time to move on.
You have to accept it.
But when you’ve lost someone you love, letting go can sound as though you’re being asked to release the person.
To stop remembering.
To stop hurting.
To somehow put the past down and walk away from it.
And I don’t believe that’s what healing has to mean.
I lost my mum 14 years ago. The grief I carry today isn’t the grief I carried in those early days. But that doesn’t mean I have let go of my mum. It means I’ve learned to carry the relationship differently. And oh boy am I’m still learning how best to do so. Because no day is the same in grief, and neither is letting go.
Grief and letting go don’t have to mean letting go of love
Sometimes it means letting go of the expectation that life should still be as it was. Sometimes it means letting go of the pressure to be further along. And other times it means accepting that we may never have all the answers.
The messy middle of grief
There is a space between what was and what comes next. You’re no longer where you were, but you don’t yet know where you’re going. I think of this as the messy middle. It can be an uncomfortable place to be.
We want answers and direction. We want to know that we’re making progress. But grief doesn’t always give us those things. Some days feel manageable. Other days, something small – a memory, a sound, a thought – can bring the loss close again. And you might find yourself wondering why you still feel this way.
Perhaps the problem isn’t that you’re going backwards. Perhaps you’re simply human. Healing doesn’t follow a straight line. Grief and letting go don’t happen according to a timetable either.
Read also ‘Grieving Lost Time, and How to Deal With It‘
What can autumn teach us about grief and letting go?
Think about the trees. They don’t seem concerned about whether they’re progressing quickly enough. The leaves change colour. They stay for a while, and eventually, they fall. There isn’t a frantic attempt to hold on to every single leaf. But there isn’t a rush to get rid of them either.
There is a season for changing. A season for holding on. A season for releasing. Perhaps we could offer ourselves some of that same patience. Maybe you’re not ready to let go yet. That’s okay. Maybe you’re ready to let go of some things, but not others. That’s okay too. You don’t have to turn your grief into a lesson. You don’t have to find a silver lining. You don’t have to make your grief productive. Sometimes you can simply be where you are.
What if letting go doesn’t mean moving on?
Maybe this is the question I keep coming back to. What if letting go isn’t about releasing the person, the memory or the love? What if it is about releasing some of the expectations we place on ourselves? The expectation that we should be coping better. That we should have moved on by now. That we should somehow be the person we were before. I don’t want to let go of my mum. But I have had to let go of the idea that life would return to exactly how it was.
Maybe you can move forward without moving on. Perhaps you can carry someone with you while still creating a life that is yours. Maybe healing isn’t about forgetting what happened. Maybe it’s about finding a way to live with what happened.
And sometimes, grief and letting go mean grieving the life we thought we were going to have – the future we imagined, or the version of ourselves we thought we’d remain. That can be a very different kind of grief.
Perhaps you can stay for a while
So, as autumn arrives, perhaps you don’t need to ask yourself: “How do I let go?”
Perhaps you could ask: “What would it look like to be a little gentler with myself as things change?”
You don’t have to know the answer or know what comes next. Perhaps you can simply stay for a while.
Stay with the uncertainty.
Stay with the memories.
With yourself.
I lost my mum 14 years ago. I still miss her, and I also keep living. Both things can be true. Maybe that’s the messy middle. Not choosing between remembering and moving forward. Not choosing between grief and hope. But learning that we can carry what we’ve lost while still making room for what is here.
Read also ‘Coping With Grief: 10 Hard but Valuable Lessons of Loss‘
If you’re carrying a loss
Perhaps you’re grieving someone you love. Or perhaps you’re grieving something else entirely – a relationship, your health, your identity, a dream, your sense of security, or a future you thought had been waiting for you. These losses aren’t always recognised as grief, but that doesn’t make them less real. My upcoming book, What If This Is Grief?: Finding Your Way Through Loss and Heartache, explores the many different forms loss and grief can take, including the losses that aren’t always recognised as grief.
Sometimes you don’t need someone to tell you how to fix things. Sometimes you need someone to sit with you in the uncertainty, listen without judgement, and walk alongside you as you find your way through.
If you’re carrying something that feels difficult to navigate alone and think you may benefit from coaching from a certified Mental Health and Grief & Loss Coach and Grief Educator, email me at katy@katyparker.co.uk to arrange a conversation and find out whether coaching might be right for you.
You don’t need to know exactly what you need.
You can simply begin with:
“I’m struggling, and I don’t know where to go from here.”
That’s enough.
You are not failing.
You are not behind.
And you don’t have to navigate the messy middle alone.
Make yourself another warm drink. Look out at the changing leaves. And remember: You don’t have to let go of everything to begin finding your way forward.
This reflection is inspired by themes explored in Katy Parker’s upcoming book, What If This Is Grief?, a book that explores grief in all its forms – from the death of a loved one to invisible and unrecognised losses, chronic pain, trauma, faith, and healing.
Till the next blog post,
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