Tapestry of Wisdom: Grief, a curated collection
Photo Credit: Mallory MacDonald
Wisdom to Accompany Us in Grief
Grief is a human experience that touches us all. These are some off-the-beaten-path threads woven into a tapestry of wisdom for grief.
Follow the threads that draw you. Notice what stirs.
Language — words that help name what’s happening inside
Story — a life well-lived as a lens for your own life
Poem — metaphor that keeps grief from flattening into ideas
Language (for naming what’s happening within)
Atlas of the Heart: Mapping Meaningful Connection and the Language of Human Experience is a collective guide to the language of human emotions. It has surprised me that, even as a heart-centered being, I haven’t always grasped the precise meanings of words I’ve used to describe what’s happening within. Sharing a common language about these experiences with the people in my life has been a good thing. (Brown also released an HBO Max series on Atlas of the Heart.)
A gentle entry (for kids + adults)
The Heart and the Bottle is a playful, evocative way to invite both adults and children into a conversation about grief and loss. (You’ll find a read-aloud video below.)
Poem (for staying close to the true thing)
I’ve been listening to Mary Oliver’s “Love Sorrow.” This poem plunges us into the heart of metaphor—almost uncomfortably so—and invites us to resist intellectualizing grief.
Story (for remembering what matters)
On her short pod, Kelly Corrigan reads a eulogy every Sunday. This has become part of my rhythm—a way of staying mindful of the bigger picture. Kelly wrote eulogies for her mom and for her best friend. The last few minutes of this episode move me to tears every time I listen. (This episode was released the day I’m writing this post, and I’m undone by it.)
Listening to the story of a life well-lived, and letting that story turn me back toward my own life, also reminds me of a distinction David Brooks offers—highlighted by Josh Radnor and Rob Bell—between “Resumé Virtues” and “Eulogy Virtues.” (I love the whole episode, but you’ll find this reference around minute 42:15.)
Bearing Witness
Whether we are grieving the loss of a loved one, a faith community, a dream, or a self-image—when we attune to our felt sense with granularity, we bear witness to our experience.
Follow the threads that draw you…
A lens for attending grief — wise words for how grief lives in the body
A conversation to keep you company — psalms, honesty, and the permission to feel
A story of presence — simple language, loving steadiness, and being-with
A lens for attending grief (grief as part of the weave)
This blog post by trauma-informed spiritual director Shannon Michael Pater on “Glancing at Grief” has stayed with me. He writes: “Grief isn’t something we let go of. It becomes a part of the weave of our human fabric; it’s in our body, our nervous system. We often do not know how to attend to our own grief; we certainly frequently fail in staying present with those who mourn.”
A conversation to keep you company (honesty in the dark)
Eugene Peterson speaks with Krista Tippett about the power of holding people in the inevitable dark times of their lives—and the way the Psalms, in particular, invite us to honestly express the fullness and intensity of our darkest emotions. (36:50 in the unedited episode.)
A story of presence (being-with, simply)
Carvell Wallace’s exquisite, produced podcast Finding Fredintroduced me to the broad and transformative influence of Fred Rogers. This episode illustrates the way Mr. Rogers “pastored” children (and adults) in grief—his loving presence, the way he normalized grief, and his simple language.
Throughout the series, Wallace weaves in audio from Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, his own reflections, and interviews with others who recount Mr. Rogers’ influence. The stories told in the final episode feel deeply resonant with my image of spiritual direction.
A poem excerpt (a courageous excavation)
My friend Greg practices honesty and asks himself vulnerable questions in his poem “Skimming Along the Surface.” Here’s an excerpt:
“So what lurks in the depths that scares me so?
That keeps me skimming along the surface of who I am?
What discovery am I so fearful of?
That I am a vapor?
That, “I’m not lovable”, is a truth?
That I do not love myself?
What if I took a deep breath?
Filled my lungs with the air then plunged into the depths –
exploring the world that scares me so?
What if I risked opening my eyes?
maybe it is in the depths where I will see most clearly; see myself most clearly…”
Making Space to Sing Our Sad Songs
Grief doesn’t want to be explained or hurried along. It wants space—space to be named, space to be heard, space to be felt in the body.
Follow the threads that draw you…
A gentle model for accompaniment — how to be with another without fixing
A song for the season — a playlist to hold sorrow and joy together
A gentle model for accompaniment (without “cheering up”)
This video of Daniel Tiger and Lady Aberlin from Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood is a gem I return to often. It reminds me how we can accompany each other through grief and doubt.
Instead of cheering up a loved one—or rushing past what they share—we can listen to and harmonize with the lament of another. We can make space for an honest, sad song to be sung as long as it needs. (Start at 14:09.)
A playlist for grief
What songs do you listen to when grief comes close? Here’s mine.
This little collection is curated by Kirsten, a spiritual director and collage artist. If you want some company as you attune to what is stirring within you, I’d be honored to meet you for deep listening—online and in-person on Vashon Island, WA.
