Grief is a universal human experience that affects the body, the breath, sleep, and the nervous system.

 In Traditional Chinese Medicine, grief is most closely associated with the Lung system, which governs breath, rhythm, immunity, and the ability to let go.

Prolonged or unexpressed grief is believed to weaken Lung qi, leading to symptoms such as:

• Shallow or restricted breathing
   
• Fatigue and low immunity
   
• Tightness in the chest or upper back
   
• Sadness that lingers without release
   

From a TCM perspective, grief constricts downward movement in the body, interrupting the natural rhythm of inhale and exhale—both physically and emotionally.

Healing does not involve suppressing grief, but supporting breath, gentle movement, and seasonal alignment, particularly in autumn, the season traditionally associated with the lungs and the process of release.

Grief is understood as a natural emotional response to loss, but one that requires circulation and support. When grief is acknowledged and allowed to move—through breath, presence, and time—it is less likely to become lodged in the body.

 In Sufi traditions, grief is often understood as the pain that arises when love encounters separation—not as a flaw, but as evidence of devotion and depth of feeling.

Sufi poetry and teachings frequently describe grief as a refining fire—one that softens the ego and opens the heart toward humility, compassion, and remembrance (dhikr).

 The ache of loss is not seen as punishment, but as a reminder of impermanence and the soul’s longing for connection.

Importantly, grief is not meant to be carried alone. 

In traditional Sufi contexts, suffering is held within community, prayer, poetry, and shared remembrance. 

Expression—through words, tears, or silence—is considered a natural movement of the heart.

Rather than seeking closure, the Sufi path emphasizes integration: allowing grief to deepen love rather than harden it and letting sorrow become a bridge to greater empathy for the suffering of others.

 In Aboriginal Australian societies grief has traditionally been understood as a communal responsibility. 

Loss was not borne silently by the individual, but shared among family, kinship networks, and community.

Anthropological records describe grief as:

• Openly acknowledged rather than minimized
   
• Expressed through presence, sound, movement, or stillness
   
• Supported over extended periods of time
   
• Understood as cyclical rather than linear
   

In these cultures, grief was not something to “get over.” It was something to be integrated into life, with the support of others and the rhythms of the natural world.

 Buddhist traditions recognize grief as the meeting point between love and impermanence. 

Rather than denying grief or clinging to it, suffering is met with awareness, compassion, and presence.

Grief is not judged.
It is not rushed.
It is observed with care.

This approach does not seek to eliminate pain, but to prevent suffering from turning into isolation or self-blame.

 In yogic philosophy, grief is understood as a vritti—a movement within the mind and nervous system.

 The goal is not suppression but witnessing without identification.

Breath, posture, and stillness were historically used not to remove grief, but to create enough internal stability to remain present with it.

Only recently has Western psychology begun to recognize what older cultures already knew:

• Grief does not move in straight lines
   
• Social support reduces suffering
   
• Ongoing bonds with the deceased are healthy
   
• Forcing resolution can deepen distress

 Sit or lie down in a quiet place. Let your body be supported. Close your eyes if it feels safe to do so. 

 Begin to breathe slowly and gently. Inhale through your nose for a count of four. Hold for a moment. Exhale slowly through your mouth for a count of six. Repeat this rhythm for a few rounds, letting your body start to soften. 

 Bring your attention to the center of your chest—your heart space. Imagine your breath moving in and out of your heart. If you’re holding pain, grief, or tension there, don’t push it away. Just notice. Allow yourself to feel whatever arises, without judgment. 

 I am safe to feel. I am safe to heal. Grief is love, seeking a new path. Each breath is a step toward peace.  

 Let go of the mantra. Just be. Breathe softly. Let your awareness expand gently. Feel the ground beneath you, the support around you, and the breath within you. When you're ready, slowly open your eyes.