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‘The Red of My Blood: A Death and Life Story’ tells the story of the first year of grief. Clover Stroud writes about mourning the death of her sister. She captures the paradox of being both with deep feelings and the continuation of everyday family life; where children need feeding and attending to.

Clover Stroud writes her loss from the inside out. With metaphor and through her senses, we are invited into her inner world. She shows us glimpses of the pain of losing a sibling in middle age.

It is easy to misconstrue Kubler-Ross’s 5 Stages of Grief (plus Kessler’s = 6) as following each in neat order, but Stroud reminds us: “The path alongside death is crooked, remember. There are no consequential stages which happen one after the other, neatly, like dominoes falling.”

I love the permission that Stroud’s memoir gives to recognise the depth of love that mirrors the loss, in relationship with her sister. The death of a partner or child is seen as very significant, but grief follows in the wake of the death of anyone we love, as well as an infinite range of other life situations. “The truth is that the death and therefore loss of someone you love deeply is so awful you have to rearrange your brain dramatically to survive it.”

Writing during 2020, the pandemic adds an additional layer, as Stroud describes collective loss through lens of home schooling and changes in meeting with friends.

Describing grief as an “active verb”, Clover allows us into her own process. She sometimes faces towards the inevitability of death, and also the desire to escape from the reality that “none of us are getting out of here alive,” (to quote Nanea Hoffman via Stroud).

For me, through reading and feeling alongside the hurt of grief allows me to practice stretching my heart muscles. If you are currently inside your own experience of deep grief, Clover Stroud’s beautiful words may be able to reach out to tenderly hold your hand in recognition. She tells of her rituals and strategies, that allow her to begin to alchemise pain when it feels impossible. “The shrine of hard little objects were things to clasp, when the caverns of loss opened up and life felt as if it was sliding out of reach.”

Follow link for next Grief Tending events.

The second line appeared on my lateral flow test. I grabbed a few essentials from the kitchen and retired to bed. As symptoms circulated around my bronchial passages, I reached for ‘33 Meditations on Death: Notes From the Wrong End of Medicine’ by David Jarrett. Covid 19 does not appear until the final chapter, but contemplating age and vulnerability proactively are themes of the book.

David Jarrett MD is a long serving physician providing medical care to older people. If you are, or have been involved with the care of someone frail or elderly, you may already be aware of the medical ‘twilight zone’, the spectrum between life and death that older people can often fall into.

There is a great deal of sound thinking, alongside compassion and humour in the stories that come from Jarrett’s long service in geriatric and stroke care. “We are obsessed by mortality in modern health services, when we should be paying greater attention to quality of life. One is very easy to measure and the other virtually impossible,” he suggests.

Over a career that spans decades, we are given an inside perspective on the changes in medical practice, both for good or ill. We are treated both to the stories of patients, and doctors, who are dealing with mortality. It is a wise and engaging read, that brings insight to the perfect storm, “of longevity, prolonged infirmity and sheer numbers.” We are dying longer, as a consequence of living longer.

Some of the examples he brings have an element of tragicomedy about them, but in the face of uncertainty and the limits of medicine, the warnings he shares are important. Seventy is the new sixty for the lucky ones, see here for Advantages of Age who celebrate this.

However, there are wider implications to consider for us as ageing individuals. And for our collective greater good as a society, we need to debate these issues. As Jarrett says, “There is a burden of disease and there is a burden of treatment, and these two need to be balanced.” In his own words, “This is a call to arms for all of us to prepare and share more radical plans for our futures and perhaps in old age relinquish some of our considerable financial and electoral power.”

Every Ocean Hughes is an artist and death doula. An end of life death doula or ‘soul midwife’, is someone who supports the dying and their loved ones, at the end of life. Hughes exhibition ‘One Big Bag’at Studio Voltaire includes a film of a performance piece, and an installation of her ‘corpse kit’. This comprises an array of small practical items including gloves, bells, make-up, cotton buds, scented oils and a nappy, which hang on strings in the darkened room. These are some of the tools of the doula’s trade. This is Hughes’ bag of items that may be needed at the end of life to support those at the bedside, and to minister to the dying, both before and after their last breath.

The film, which extends the theme of doula-ship is provocative. While the words raise important themes around the ability to ‘self-determine’ around death, and queer bodies in particular, it hammered out its message without the subtlety required for this much needed public conversation. Hughes intends to address the audience’s fear of death and dying, but for me, the percussive choreography was unhelpful.

The confrontational delivery of the words, whose message deserves to be heard, is at odds with the sensitive art of “walking alongside, and being responsive to the dying”, as doula Hermione Elliot of Living Well Dying Well puts it in an interview on BBC Radio 4’s Woman’s Hour.

Also in this interview, Dr Helen Frisby describes the changes that have occurred in recent times as end of life care has become increasingly medicalised, and death the domain of the undertaking business. Every Ocean Hughes describes the laying out of the body as “the most loving thing you can do”. This task, once carried out by local women can be reclaimed when we are informed and empowered to take on the task. I have been lucky enough to lay out bodies during the extraordinary time of transition that occurs after death.

“Death has to be understood with the senses, the mind doesn’t get it,” Hughes tells us, and my hands remember. The intimacy of the doula’s role in the liminal days around a death are described beautifully, “The rest of the world is out there happening, but we’re in time apart.”

Despite its heavy-handed approach, I hope the exhibition will inspire necessary conversations. Hughes urges, “Make some decisions, have a vision…so that your life can end with the same spirit it was lived.” For some help to do this, Beyond Life has some useful tips, and Ash Hayhurst’s PDF ‘Making Informed Choices When Planning a Funeral – A Guide for Queer people’ is an excellent resource.

These crimson suede shoes are potent grief objects for me. They hold the imprint of my Step-Grandmother Pat. The soles are worn from years of shuffling along the corridor of a care home. They held her unusually long, narrow feet in pop socks. Her striking home-made dresses in vibrant upholstery fabrics stopped just below the knee, revealing the red suede toes beneath. The dresses, these shoes, and her memory were worn out, misshaped by time.

As part of Natalia Millman’s ‘Grief Letter’ project, I have written Pat a letter. It is a love letter of sorts, a chance to express my sorrow and regrets. Our responses to grief are as many and varied as the causes, and the people we mourn. In writing a grief letter, Natalia gives us permission to speak from the heart. “Grief Letter is an ongoing community-based project where people can share their personal experience of loss and grief in the form of a letter,” writes Natalia about the project. The letters she receives will be incorporated into an installation. If you want to take part, you can request a Grief Letter pack here.

Millman has been exploring mortality and loss in response to her own grieving process. Her art works use a variety of media to experiment with these themes. Found and natural materials layer with photographs and sculptural forms. Many of her pieces are made with juxtaposing textures, and fragmenting imagery. In the wake of a parent’s disappearing memory, she creates visual remains that have the quality of decomposition.

Writing can be a powerful tool to use in the practice of tending our grief. Many people find journaling or free writing useful ways to download feelings. A letter to someone who has gone away or died can be a significant way to say what may not have been possible or welcome at the time. It can offer a chance to remember someone, to acknowledge them, as well as taking a step towards processing the feelings that remain in their absence.

Taking part in the Grief Letter project by writing your own letter will leave a document of your experience of grief that may resonate with others.

Sophy Banks also offers Grief Tending events that include writing as the central practice. To see when the next ‘Writing Out Grief’ is happening, see here.

This week I watched a friend’s funeral. I had not known them well although over a period of twenty years. It was an extraordinary event, for its authentic portrayal of a maverick, complicated, inspirational person, whose life-force burned bright and came to a sudden end.

I am not just mourning the loss of Tobias the person, but of the role he played in community. He organised events which created the conditions to foster connections. This collective is unravelling like a hand-knitted jumper which now has a large frayed hole in it. I am seeing the shape of the absence he leaves behind, like George Bailey in ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’.

The funeral stirred me to cry, laugh, and then dance. I am left with regret for the conversations we never had. I learned things about Tobias that I wish I had known before; and remembered many of the qualities described in heart-felt eulogies. He was, (amongst many other things), an advocate of inclusive sex-positive community, and driven to normalise taboos around desire.

“He used to share crying selfies with those he loved,” I learned. I took one to honour the moment, as I was in full flood at the time. I have long attempted to document a range of moods, and expressions in our family photos, and have taken crying selfies before. Showing our crying faces in public is another taboo. Tears are sometimes expected in measured ways, but messy outpourings of grief are often less permissible.

Sudden, unexplained, ‘out of time’ deaths can leave huge impacts. We are left wondering why, how, often with shock, regret, guilt or shame rippling out. Those left behind are often left with strong feelings; denied a timely way to express our goodbyes.

The pandemic brings in its wake a mental health crisis, along with many deaths that are complicated, have been without good endings, and with minimal funerals. Let us offer our gratitude to those we love, and let them know we love them while they are still here. Perhaps even send a ‘crying selfie’?

For Grief Tending events coming up, follow this link.

When I have experience deep personal grief, it feels as though there is a sheet of glass between me and the rest of the world. When life is presenting us with challenges, it’s easy to feel shut out of everyday life. Especially when everyone else seems to be having fun, this can feel alienating. Communal times of celebration like seasonal festivals amplify absence, and can add stress from other people’s expectations of jollity, social or family pressures.

In her explorations into Healthy Human Culture, Sophy Banks describes the “conditions for health as being: empowered, resourced, valued, safe and connected.” For me, the yearning for belonging is a hunger for these needs to be met.

Feeling like an outsider can be especially painful, especially if your authentic expression is not welcome in a particular group. If you are involuntarily alone, or without enough support, or part of a marginalised group, this can add an additional layer of grief at these times.

For a variety of reasons which include social restrictions, scarcity/cost of venues, reduced income/higher costs of living, lack of volunteers, many of the community groups where I used to feel a sense of belonging have not been able to meet in person. Ongoing groups of people who share values or activities are a much-needed part of the social net which holds us. The waning of community groups may return after the current wave of pandemic infections, but we will still have to bridge the divides which have sprung up to between people polarised by different preferences and viewpoints.

Making ourselves vulnerable builds intimacy, holding the capacity to sit with different opinions, where all of us is welcome, and speaking from our own experience including uncomfortable subjects, are ways to bring people together. Grief Tending meets this need, to meet with others, to find belonging.

A Grief Tending group is one place where I can rely on feeling included. So, as we cross the threshold into another year, we wish you well, and may you find places where you feel a sense of belonging, whatever you are dealing with.

For Grief Tending events coming up both online and in person, follow this link.

This is one of many postcard sized images which comprises ‘Wish You Were Here’, an exhibition and raffle in aid of Art Refuge. I collaged together prints of my feet and hands with the message ‘WELCOME’. My humble artwork will be raffled alongside pieces by artists like Grayson Perry.

Recent surges of people running the dangerous gauntlet to cross the channel in small boats, regularly hits the news. I listen to reports on the radio in my comfortable kitchen while I eat a nutritious organic lunch. Many do not survive the journey.

Art Refuge work on both sides of the channel with people who are displaced, to provide art and art therapy, and offer crisis support. They also offer training to frontline workers. Their skilful and imaginative projects often begin with a welcome at one of their ‘community tables.’ These are covered with printed maps, which may represent former homes and travel routes, and aid conversations.

The team use a profoundly simple but effective way of embodied creative making to invite people into connection. “The Community Table model – originally developed by Art Refuge in Calais to welcome those who find themselves displaced – alongside volunteers, local staff, interpreters and visitors – to sit around a table and share spaces through art making.”

For me, welcoming someone has become an essential practice. In Grief Tending, we aim to welcome both people, and feelings which may not feel invited elsewhere. In some grief rituals, after expressing emotions, there is a moment of return, where the person is welcomed back into the holding support of the group. This can be a strong experience, especially for those who have rarely experienced an authentic welcome.

My inspiration for this image was to offer an open-armed welcome to those who step onto British shores. Many of the displaced have lost everything, and bring a history of trauma and struggle. Creativity is one way to begin a journey of repair – to connect, to find respite, to tell your story, and eventually to make meaning.

How to Find Support For Dealing With Grief

 

The Buddha asks Kisa Gotami, who is deep in grief:
“Bring me a mustard seed but it must be taken from a house where no one residing in the house has ever lost a family member. Bring this seed back to me and your son will come back to life.” 

 

When we really need help, what are supportive ways for dealing with grief and loss? In the Buddhist story Kisa Gotami a grieving mother, asks the Buddha for help. Like Kisa Gotami, the reality that ‘everything you love you will lose’ (Francis Weller’s 1st Gate) may not touch you until you are in the clutches of grief. Kisa Gotami goes to her village, where she begins to find others who know the experience of grief.

Grief is an initiation. It is an inevitable part of being human, as Kisa Gotami discovers. Everything changes and everyone dies in the natural cycle, so at some point someone or something that we love will end. How we cope with the complex emotions of grief when it comes, is the challenge. Grief Tending is one way to find support for dealing with grief. It is a group practice to process grief.

How do I Find Support?

Before people come to a Grief Tending workshop, we ask that they connect with additional support during and also after the event. In this article I try to map some of the different ways to find support in order to process grief. Any of the following approaches may be useful when looking for support when working with Grief Tending as an occasional or regular practice.

Healing Grief

Healing grief may be what we long for, but to begin a journey towards acceptance we may need to find support. Our grief is a unique experience, and what each person needs will be different. When or if we feel safe enough to give space to our emotions will also be different. When we trust another person, we may be able to co-regulate our nervous systems so that we can give time and attention to our feelings. Feeling supported or ‘held’ may happen with the right conditions, with one person or in a group. We can only begin to heal from trauma when we have enough support.

The Fried Egg Theory

One way of looking at recovery from grief, also known as the ‘fried egg theory’, is when the grief stays just as big, but life begins to grow around it.

Lois Tonkin who puts forward this theory writes:

“What helps some clients about this model (and it does not fit everyone) is that it relieves them of the expectation that their grief should largely go away. It explains the dark days, and also describes the richness and depth the experience of grief has given to their lives”.
From ‘Growing around grief – another way of looking at grief and recovery’ by Lois Tonkin.

Support for Dealing With Grief

Communities and our sense of belonging vary widely. Sometimes there is a wide range of inter-relationships and open communication between people. Perhaps there is an existing network of support for dealing with grief. There may be traditions, healers and practices to call on, especially around coping with death and dying. We may find intact or partial traditions that are recognisable in our own families, communities or faith teachings that may help us to deal with grief.

However, for a huge number of people it can feel as though grief is something that they are left to deal with on their own. Perhaps there are some traditional ways of grieving in their own background, but they don’t feel a connection with them. There may be practices that were more familiar to previous generations, which have been forgotten.

Weaving A ‘Basket’ of Support

In order to heal, we need to weave a basket of different kinds of support together. What this comprises is up to you. Start where you are and figure out what you need first.

Some of us have better developed networks of support than others. This may include people to talk to – friends, family, neighbours, work colleagues and health professionals. If we have financial resources, we may have more options to find a place to take our sorrows – a therapist, or body worker perhaps. If we are lucky, we may be able to access counselling services through a local organisation such as a hospice support group. There may be a charity or help line which serves as an emergency safety net for us in crisis. Links to crisis support here.

Finding Help for Dealing With Grief to Build Resilience

This is a brief over-view of some of the different kinds of support available for working with grief. This is not an exclusive list, and is intended as a rough guide to inspire further research and exploration. Always trust your gut feeling of what feels right for you right now. Most practitioners and therapists will welcome questions about how they work and whether they can meet your needs. Every person’s experience of grief is unique and each journey of learning how to cope with grief is different. You may want to include approaches that complement each other.

One to One Support Versus a Group for Dealing With Grief

One to one sessions will be tailored to your specific focus, with time to unfold your story. This is particularly helpful if you are dealing with intense grief or recent bereavement. Groups can offer witnessing, and shared understanding. Trust your intuition on what appeals to you. These two ways of working can support and complement each other. It is important to recognise that different approaches will suit different people, budgets or be helpful at different times.

Grief Tending Workshop

A short Grief Tending workshop (one day or less) can be a great introduction to the practice of Grief Tending in community. Ideally attention is given to both what supports us, and to our grief. A group comes together with a facilitator where participants can give space to their grief, without attempting to fix or change anything. There is usually a central practice or ritual, such as a Grief Circle, where participants have the chance to express how they feel. Witnessing each other can be powerful and helps us to recognise we are not the only person mourning.

Grief Tending Retreat

A longer Grief Tending retreat may last for a weekend, or a few days. Co-facilitated by a team, this is an opportunity to explore grief more deeply as part of a group journey. The extended time allows greater trust to develop between group members. Over several days, feelings have a chance to unfold more fully than on a short grief workshop. Grief Tending involves rituals to share feelings, embodiment exercises and may include time in nature. The practice of Grief Tending blends wisdom and inspiration from different teachers and includes both psycho-education tools and the opportunity for inner work.

Grief Circle

This is usually a facilitated space to talk on the theme of grief, where participants are given an equal chance to express something. A Grief Circle may be used as part of a longer Grief Tending event.

Death Cafe

This is a space where a group of strangers come together for conversation around the theme of death, usually over tea and cake. It is not intended as a therapeutic space, although it can be a relief to talk openly on the subject. A Death Cafe can be a good introduction to speaking in front of others about what can be a taboo subject. They are short not-for-profit events that happen in a range of locations.

Support Group

A support group usually gathers together people who are dealing with a specific challenge to meet at regular intervals over time. A support group is usually facilitated by a therapist. Bereavement or one specific source of loss may be the theme of a support group.

Group Therapy

An ongoing therapy group or group therapy can help us to explore our themes in relation to others. This is usually facilitated by a therapist. Participating in a facilitated group can help to uncover dynamics and blind spots in the way we operate with other people. It may be a closed group that meets regularly over an extended period of time. Sometimes there is a common theme, such as a women’s group or a men’s group.

Family Constellations

When working with sticky problems that seem to keep repeating, it can be really helpful to consult a Family Constellations practitioner. Often systemic patterns that we are unaware of and have nothing to do with our direct actions have travelled through our family lines. Whether passed down through styles of nurture, the epigenetics of trauma or something less tangible, ancestral grief can be a weight we are carrying from past generations. It may be particularly helpful where grief or repeating challenges such as addictions travel across generations. A Constellator may work in person, online, one to one, or in a group setting.

Crisis Support Helplines

Helplines are usually run by charities. They are excellent resources in a time of urgent crisis. They are often open long hours and can provide help when you have no-where to turn, or feel in acute need. If you are in a mental health crisis or feel despair, reaching out to a crisis helpline or your GP can be a life saver. If you are supporting someone who is in acute grief or despair, Grassroots offer excellent online resources.

One to One Counselling

Counselling is available one to one as a space to be heard. This may be offered as a brief course of talking sessions. It may be on a specific theme, such as ‘bereavement counselling’. This may be something that is available through a charity. Therapy tends to be a more open-ended process that delves more deeply into the unconscious material brought by the client. The main differences between a counselling and therapy are usually length of training and governing body.

Co-counselling

Co-counselling is reciprocal peer counselling. Taking a co-counselling training course can be a first step in developing tools such as Active Listening in order to give as well as receive support.

Cognitive Behavioural Therapy

CBT as it is usually referred to is a specific technique used to change negative patterns of thought or behaviour. It is a psycho-educational tool that can be taught. It is useful for some people, particularly if working with changing specific outcomes alongside other supportive measures.

Psychotherapy

Talking therapy is usually available through a private psychotherapist. This might involve a focused series of sessions on a theme, such as bereavement, or a wider reaching open-ended conversation. Psychotherapists differ in style and ways of working. Some have specific approaches, such as Psychosynthesis or Internal Family Systems. A therapist has usually trained over several years. A first session will often be a chance to explore what you hope for and whether you feel that the therapist is a good fit for you.

Body-Centred Psychotherapy

The therapist will explore the themes you bring through paying attention to the responses, sensations and symptoms in your body. Ask the therapist about the way they work, and whether it includes ‘hands on’ work. An embodied approach is particularly helpful when working with grief. The body can provide helpful clues when we are working with buried or hard to reach feelings. Sensorimotor Psychotherapy may be what you are looking for.

Body Work

There are many different techniques of hands-on bodywork. This may be gentle, soothing touch such as energy healing, cranial osteopathy or relaxing massage. Other techniques work more actively with physical symptoms and stress loads, such as acupuncture, breath work, and Grindberg Method. Sessions of body work can also complement other therapeutic modalities.

Trauma Work

If you are uncovering layers of challenging material, or have a complex history of trauma, I recommend a therapeutic approach that includes body and mind. For a complex history of adverse childhood experiences, a modality like Somatic Experiencing, Co-regulating Touch, or Sensorimotor Psychotherapy or Reverse Therapy may all be helpful. For symptoms of burnout, there may be an underlying history which would benefit from this approach. Find a practitioner that works in a ‘trauma-informed’ or ‘trauma-sensitive’ way.

Single Traumatic Incident

EMDR is a specific technique that has good results in recovery from the impact of a specific traumatic incident.

Nature Based Therapy

Finding connection with the natural world can be a powerful place to find support. Different kinds of therapy are becoming available outdoors – whether talking therapies, healing with animals, forest bathing or a shamanic vision quest. Here is a directory of Nature and Health Practitioners. Nature connection also begins with spending time close to the nature, whether that’s tending a window box, gardening, walking in the park or climbing a mountain.

Expressive Arts Therapy

Drama, art, dance, music and singing are all practices that can be used to unfold feelings either indirectly or directly with a drama therapist, art therapist or practitioner who works with sound or movement. Movement practices like 5 Rhythms can also provide a ‘conscious’ or ‘ecstatic’ dance space to explore feelings, sensations, and have fun.

Weaving a Basket of Personal Support

Most people have things that they turn to in times of trouble. Many people consider themselves ‘spiritual but not religious’, and have developed their own ways to feel held by the beyond-human world. We encourage participants of our workshops to think about sources of support for coping with grief. It can really help us to deal with grief if we can identify the people, places, objects, activities and practices that support us.

What makes you feel grounded, connected, inspired or safe? More than ever when we grieve, we need to lean into the things that bring us comfort, connection and relief. In tough times it can be really helpful to have a list of supportive things to remember. You may not have considered them as grief support before. Carolyn Spring’s Emergency Box has a great list of things to reach for when you are feeling desperate.

Supportive People

Who are the people who you trust, and can rely on to be there in times of need? I like to actively acknowledge my need for support from close friends, and pay attention to weaving a ‘basket of support’. Who inspires you? These might be people you know, but also writers or teachers whose work speaks to you.

Support Objects

We often invite participants to bring a ‘support object’ to a Grief Tending session. This might be something that reminds you of positive qualities, or something that you like the feel of. You may have many objects and images that are talismans of things that you love, or are associated with someone you love. A support object could also be something that looks mundane but that helps you to keep going in life. This object might act as a ‘touch stone’ in your pocket or remind you that you are loved. What objects are significant to you?

Support Practices

What makes you feel good? This may include physical activities such as walking, swimming, and running. You may also enjoy more inner experiences like meditation, chanting, yoga-nidra, reading or doing soduku. Don’t forget things that bring you pleasure, which might include dancing, cooking your favourite foods, and going to exhibitions. Are there self-care practices that make you feel better, which you could make more of a priority? I like to skin-brush, take a salt bath, go to a sauna, keep a list of compliments to use when I feel low. What works for you?

Is there something creative that can give you a chance to express yourself and soothe your nervous system? This might include knitting, crafting, drawing, puzzling or writing poetry. Gentle self-touch exercises can be really helpful too, especially as a practice for returning from an activated nervous system.

Support Places

Is there a place that you feel good in? Perhaps there is a public building that inspires you. Somewhere in nature may fill you with awe. Or a supportive place may be a particular tree, a ‘sit spot’ or going to a favourite beauty spot. Perhaps you need to visit the sea regularly, or plan a special walk? Maybe there is a corner of a room that you can make a cosy nest in? Is there somewhere that takes you out of yourself by offering beauty or mental stimulation? Perhaps you like being among people in a café, at the library or solitary in a tent?

Support Rituals

Do you have rituals that bring you comfort, grounding or support? Perhaps you like to start the day in a particular way. It might be as simple as drinking coffee from a special cup? What are the personal or home rituals that you enjoy? I notice that when I make time for my daily prayerful ritual before doing anything else it sets me up for the day. It connects me with my highest intention, and makes me feel part of the web of life. What works for you to create intentional support in your life?

Grief Tending as Support for Dealing with Grief

We ask the participants of our Grief Tending workshops to commit to checking in with someone supportive after an event. Grief Tending can be a one-off resource, or sit alongside other forms of support. It can complement one to one work, offering a shared group experience.

We all have our unique histories and experiences of the world, which one to one sessions can unfold over time. Discovering our shared humanity and witnessing others’ courage and vulnerability in community are benefits of Grief Tending.

Like Kisa Gotami’s village, each person who comes to tend their grief is unable to find a mustard seed that come from a household untainted by loss, death or change. The distraught Kisa Gotama who grieves in each of us finds empathy and support through being vulnerable. But we can only be vulnerable when we feel supported enough.

I totally celebrate who I am now – a bisexual person, married and in a committed triad. I am lucky to have had an incredible journey of life so far, discovering love for myself and others. But love and loss weave together. In offering a ‘Queer and GSRD’ (Gender, Sexuality and Relationship Diversity) Grief Tending session, I have been thinking about grief from a queer perspective.

Francis Weller’s ‘Gates of Grief’ can be useful lenses to look at our life experiences. These Gates are helpful to understand ‘grief’ as a range of emotions caused by a much wider range of circumstances than bereavement. Everyone’s histories are different, and people will be affected in different ways. Here are some of the ways grief that is specifically queer has shown up in my life, seen through these ‘Gates’.

‘All that we love we will lose’
Sitting with a cousin that I loved as he died of an AIDS-related illness.

‘The places that did not receive love’
My shame and disconnection did not allow me to make the link between hidden parts of myself – my butch teen image, secret compulsion to draw naked women and my sexuality.

‘The sorrows of the world’
Have you seen ‘Welcome to Chechnya’? It’s a terrifying reminder of places in the world where different attitudes to gender, sexuality and relationship diversity are not welcome.

‘What we expected but did not receive’
Where were the elders and role models to support, welcome and educate me around puberty and sexuality?

‘Ancestral grief’
I received confusing internal messages, following the shame and repression that kept my father in the closet until he was 60, in a generation for whom being homosexual was illegal.

‘The harm I have caused myself and others’ (Sophy Banks’ Gate)
Remembering times when I failed to really engage and empathise with my housemates while living in a lesbian community house.

You can read more about my personal story with Francis Weller’s ‘Gates of Grief’ here.

If ‘Embracing Grief – Queer and GSRD’ speaks to you, you can see more details here.