“Nature has the power to heal because it is where we are from, it is where we belong and it belongs to us as an essential part of our health and our survival.”

— Nooshen Razani, Pediatrician, Researcher, advocate of the healing power of nature

Grieving a loved one who has died may be even more challenging during this time of social isolation.

Lean in to the healing power of nature

Lean into your connection with the earth.

It's okay to feel your feelings.
The mountains and trees can hold your pain.

Let us take you on an eight minute guided journey to connect with yourself, your sensation, and the world around you.

Ready? Find a spot to be, outside, and play the video below.

What was your experience like? Feel free to share in the comments below.

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Check out our upcoming virtual opportunities to

connect with others who are grieving.

A child spends all their time wishing to “be a grown up,” only to get there and realize “adulting” is hard. Oh, if we could only be kids again!

At times, the responsibilities, burdens, and experiences of young adulthood just feel too heavy. Enter grief.

Grief, the ultimate monkey wrench, thrown into the machine of our lives, changing us forever. For the young adult, whether you define that group as ages 18-25, 20-29, or 18-40, grief presents unique challenges.

For many in this age group, this is their first experience with grief. The feelings are unfamiliar and overwhelming.

The stressors this population faces, particularly around financial stability, academic achievement, and changes to the social support system, can heighten the challenges of effective coping after a loss.

Couple these challenges with the reality that most grief support programs do not reach this age group, and you have an equation for a population at risk.

Although research regarding young adult grief is limited, studies on the topic reveal an increased risk of depression in bereaved young adults. During the college years, the stress of classes and work on top of grief presents psychological and academic risks. According to research on this topic, grief during the college years can lead to a decrease in academic performance and overall GPA during the semester of loss (1).

In addition to depression, bereaved young adults are more likely to show symptoms of separation anxiety, conduct disorder, substance abuse and poverty, particularly for those who have lost a parent at a young age (2).

Physical and psychiatric symptoms, such as depression, are likely for bereaved young adults after the loss of a close friend or sibling. Sibling loss in particular presents a higher likelihood of complicated grief in young adults. (3)

After a traumatic loss, young adults are over 5 times more likely to experience suicidal ideation (4).

And in the cases of bereavement by suicide, the loss increases the potential for attempting suicide in young adults (5).

Overall, survivors of suicide, whether young adults or not, are at significantly higher risks of complicated grief, and the development of physical and/or mental health problems in the future (6).

Below are Wild Grief’s top 5 tips for your healing journey. While these points are written specifically with young adults in mind, we expect teen and adult grievers may find this material relevant, too.

5). You are NOT a freak
Realize feeling lonely, isolated, and misunderstood is NORMAL. Chances are your friends can’t relate. (“I know exactly how you feel. When my gerbil died…”) Maybe your friendships have suffered during this process. Instead of spending your precious energy trying to help your friends cope with their uncomfortable feelings around your grief, you find it easier to isolate yourself. Hear us: YOU ARE NOT THE PROBLEM. This grief might have you feeling like a four-leaf clover right now. Instead of feeling like a freak in the meadow of three-leaf clovers, find fellow four-leaf friends! When you’re feeling lonely, it may be helpful to hear stories of similar experiences. Whether you read grief stories online, or attend a local support group, knowing others have been through this can feel like a major revelation to remind you there is hope. Be aware that many young adults find social media, such as facebook, to be unhelpful in offering the support that they need. Honor your feelings of needing to be alone to process this grief, and be willing to recognize when you need to seek professional help.

4). Give back to yourself
As you’re experiencing, grief takes a ton of energy. It may take some experimenting to find what gives you energy during the grieving process. Your go-to fun activities before the loss may not be as effective now, especially if these things remind you of the person who died. When you’re grieving, all you feel like doing most days is eating junk food (or nothing at all) and binge watching Netflix. But remember: Grief presents added stress on the body and mind. Your body might be young, and you might think you’re invincible, but right now you need extra self-care. Anything you can do to nurture your body and mind will greatly help you process this grief. Spending time in nature, whether at a neighborhood park or in the wilderness, can offer much needed space for the body and mind to relax. Any activity that zaps your mind back into the present, from dinner with friends to a solo dance party in your living room, can offer a hiatus from grief’s emotional roller coaster.

3) Play your grief card
We’re not talking about taking advantage of the sympathy around you. We are talking about acknowledging this grief is probably the hardest thing in life you’ve faced yet, and realizing this is the time to ask for help. When we’re grieving, each daily task - from laundry and dishes to emails and bills - can feel like monumental challenges. And maybe we’re sacrificing our own needs to support other grievers in our family. This is the time to lean into the support of others. There is no shame in asking for help, or delegating that project to someone else. After playing your grief card, relish the bit of time, space, and energy you’ve received. You might take a deep breath wherever you are, or go outside into the fresh air, and just breathe. Inhale, exhale.

2) Recognize not all emotions are helpful
Grief shows up when and where it wants. You’ll be going along, feeling almost like a normal human being again, then WHAM. The wave hits, and suddenly you’re riding the woulda-shoulda-coulda coaster in this dysfunctional circus of emotions called grief. Human nature leads every grieving person toward guilt and regret at some point. It may be time to take the power away from negative emotions. “Sorry, guilt. Sorry, regret. You’re not helping me.”

1) Be gentle and kind with yourself
They say “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” But really, even for the most resilient of people, what doesn’t kill you can make you sick, exhausted, and on the verge of a physical or mental health breakdown. Maybe you grew up in a family where you were expected to “be tough,” not cry, and “suck it up.” Unfortunately, this toughest-kid-on-the-block attitude doesn’t make room for the difficult truth: YOU ARE GRIEVING. Right now, you need space, you need time, you need a break. While we are biased, Wild Grief believes this healing space is most easily accessed in nature, amidst the peaceful presence of all that is wild.

We invite you to join us on the trail to experience the restorative power of nature that we, and author Wendell Berry, have felt.

THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS
By Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief.
I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

CITED:
1) Educational Attainment and Persistence of Bereaved College Students, Servaty-Seib, 2006.
2) Psychiatric Symptoms in Bereaved Versus Nonbereaved Youth and Young Adults: A Longitudinal Epidemiological Study, Kapalow, 2010.
3) Complicated Grief and Bereavement in Young Adults Following Close Friend and Sibling Loss, Mash, 2013.
4) Influence of Traumatic Grief on Suicidal Ideation Among Young Adults, Prigerson, 1999.
5) Bereavement by Suicide as a Risk Factor for Suicide Attempt, Pitman, 2016.
6) Complicated Grief in Survivors of Suicide, Mitchell, 2004.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

If this phrase were a nickel, grieving people could quit their day jobs and retire to some tropical oasis.

If you’ve lived through the death of someone close to you, you’ve surely experienced the common condolence cliches:
“Time heals all wounds.”
“You have to move forward.”
“You have your whole life ahead of you.”

It’s like the presence of a grieving person presents mental paralysis to those surrounding them, temporarily turning their speech into a preprogrammed grabbag of one line sympathy card expressions.

Despite the reality that (spoiler!):
1) we are all going to die, and
2) we will all experience the death of people around us,
death and dying is still an awkward, terrifying topic of conversation for most, and these one line condolences serve as safe alternatives to unique, individualized words of care.

But let’s be real: talking to a grieving person is uncomfortable. It’s like the elephant in the room nobody wants to acknowledge. The stress of debating what to say makes our minds freeze and go blank. The anxiety of hurting a grieving person is overwhelming. It feels easier to avoid the person altogether.

So what should you say to a grieving person? The short answer: it depends.
Every bereaved individual has different needs, and those change through the process of grief. Some of us at Wild Grief recently attended a conference and heard one participant share how much he hated the word “sorry,” and wanted people to stop saying sorry to grievers. The guest lecturer at the podium however, said he still liked to express his sorrow, and felt it appropriate to use the word “sorry.”

The bottom line: your relationship with the individual and their current emotional state can determine how you respond.

But remember: there are some very obvious things NOT to say.

When my brother died by suicide in 2018, I made a decision to show grace to those trying to comfort me. I’ve felt awkward around grief too, and I didn’t want to be hard on anyone for trying to comfort me, even if they - well - sucked at it.

What I mostly heard was: “so, um...hope you’re ok,” and “sorry...just sorry...just...um...” Lame, but hey, it’s a tough topic.

And then, it came:
“It’s too bad your brother didn’t make it to heaven.”
“Your brother’s spirit is floating around tormented. Trust me, I’m experienced with suicide.”
“You have a short window to save your brother’s soul. All you need to do is go to XYZ temple and chant. Be sure to bring flowers.”

Mic drop.

Looking back, I could have offered these folks some salt and said: “Here, let me help you rub this into the wounds of my heart.”

And this brings me to an important point: respect the religious or non-religious beliefs of the griever. Your belief (or non-belief) system may not be helpful in comforting a grieving person.

So how did I respond when these “friends” took it upon themselves to play God and judge my brother’s eternal damnation (because, afterall, they’re so experienced)? A part of me now wishes I had told them where I thought their souls were going after death. But in the moment, I took a deep breath and calmly explained my thoughts, feelings, experiences, and that of my family, and the deep peace we felt about my brother’s passing. I regret to inform you I was not heard, and was instead met with arguments:

You just don’t understand.
You might be feeling peaceful, but that’s not the reality of the situation.
This peace you’re feeling is a trick.

And this brings me to another - perhaps most important - point: LISTEN.
Sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all. Use your ears, not your mouth.

We often feel we have to “say something to make it better,” but perhaps another approach is to offer the griever a chance to share.

I wish we could swap “I’m sorry for your loss,” with “how are you feeling?” and “are you getting support?” The latter opens a conversation to hear feelings and needs. Or maybe you ask something like “what is the hardest part for you right now?” Say your friend responds that in this moment, they are struggling with the secondary loss of nobody to mow the lawn, or file their taxes. If you are a caring friend, you can help this bereaved individual meet those needs for support, or find resources that can.

So you’ve listened, you’ve shared your condolences. But sometimes, there truly are no words to share. Sometimes silence is the best option. Be like a loyal canine companion or feline friend and, with their consent, just sit with them.
Every Wild Grief hike begins with 10 minutes of silence. This time provides space to remember, reflect, and just be. Silence is ok!

Pro tip: as the saying goes, actions speak louder than words. The act of bringing food or giving another service may be just what is needed.
In what has become my personal pet peeve cliche, this phrase rang as one of the most unhelpful after my brother’s death: “Just let me know if you need anything.”
These well-meaning folks would have regretted saying this should I have answered them honestly: “Yes, I need a box of wine, case of dark chocolate, full body massage, jumbo sized box of kleenexes (with lotion, 2-ply!), and a replacement for my broken heart. Daily. Cool? Ok, thanks!”
In my family’s grief journey, one of the most comforting gifts came from friends and neighbors who stopped by unannounced with food. No words, no listening, just a home cooked meal. It was exactly what we needed.

It’s tough to be grieving and field the range of lame, insensitive, and downright hurtful remarks. And it’s also tough to know how to meet someone in the darkest moment of their lives, and swallow the fear of further wounding a hurting heart.

As a recent griever, I can tell you: your intent matters. The people who really care, who express “I’m sorry for your loss,” with care and emotion, are the ones I remember. No matter what is said, it’s how it’s said, and the feeling behind it, that means the most.

Wild Grief hike leaders often read this poem on the trail. May these words bring you, or whoever you share it with, hope and comfort.

Let us agree
for now
that we will not say
the breaking
makes us stronger
or that it is better
to have this pain
than to have done
without this love.

Let us promise
we will not
tell ourselves
time will heal
the wound,
when every day
our waking
opens it anew.

Perhaps for now
it can be enough
to simply marvel
at the mystery
of how a heart so broken
can go on beating,
as if it were made
for precisely this...

as if it knows
the only cure for love
is more of it,

as if it sees
the heart's sole remedy
for breaking
is to love still,
as if it trusts

that its own
persistent pulse
is the rhythm
of a blessing
we cannot
begin to fathom
but will save us
nonetheless.

-Jan Richardson