How to Approach Grief (When Life Doesn’t Stop for It)
Grief has a way of arriving while everything else keeps going.
There are lunches to make, emails to answer, people who still need you. Bills still come. The world doesn’t pause, even when something inside you has fractured.
For many people—especially if this is your first experience of loss—grief can feel not only overwhelming, but disorienting. You might wonder: Am I doing this right? Why don’t I feel how I thought I would? How do I keep living a normal life while carrying this?
This is not a guide to “getting over” grief. It’s an invitation to approach it differently—with more space, less judgement, and a little more support for the reality of living a full life alongside loss.
Start by noticing what you believe about grief
If you’re able to, one gentle place to begin is here:
What do you believe about grief?
Do you see it as:
a natural process?
something dangerous or overwhelming?
a sign of weakness?
a way of honouring the person you’ve lost?
Most of us carry beliefs about grief long before we ever experience it ourselves. These beliefs shape how we meet our emotions. If grief feels frightening or “too much,” it’s often because we’ve been taught that it should overwhelm us—or that we should hurry it along.
There’s no right belief to hold. Simply noticing what you already think about grief can soften your relationship with it.
Make space for how you actually feel (not how you think you should)
Grief often comes with a quiet internal conflict.
There can be a gap between:
how you think you should feel
and
how you do feel
Cultural narratives, other people’s opinions, and unspoken expectations all seep in. You might feel pressure to be strong, to “cope well,” or to move forward. Or you might feel guilty if your grief doesn’t look dramatic enough.
Simply becoming aware of this disconnect can be relieving. You don’t need to correct your emotions. Letting them exist as they are—without comparison—creates more room to breathe.
Different people grieve in different directions
One idea that can ease a lot of judgement (both towards ourselves and others) is this:
Some people are past-focused in grief.
They need to remember, revisit, and keep a strong connection with the person who has died.
Others are future-focused.
Loss reminds them of life’s fragility, and they feel pulled to engage more fully with what’s ahead.
Neither response is better or more “correct.” This understanding can help loosen harsh labels we sometimes place on grief—wallowing, cold, insensitive, stuck. Often, we’re simply grieving in different directions.
Grief is solitary—and deeply relational
Grief can feel intensely lonely. And yet, it is strangely relational.
We carry expectations about how we want to be supported. Others carry assumptions about what “appropriate” grief looks like, or how long it should last. Sometimes people retreat because they don’t know what to say. Sometimes the person grieving pulls away because explaining feels exhausting.
And yet, the moments that often help most are small and connective:
someone saying, “Tell me about her.”
flowers arriving without explanation
a genuine “How are you?” that makes space for the real answer
Grief doesn’t disappear in company but it can feel lighter when it’s shared.
Seeing grief as a form of honouring
Over time, I came to see my own grief as a way of honouring the people I’d lost.
It kept me connected. It felt like I was still holding space for them in my life. That shift mattered. Instead of seeing grief as something to push away, I began to welcome it as a sign of love still present.
This reframing doesn’t remove pain but it can change how hostile grief feels.
You are not your grief
One of the hardest moments for me was realising how easily grief can become an identity.
“I am grief.”
“I am sadness.”
“I am regret.”
One of the core principles of emotions coaching helped here:
We are not our emotions.
“I am feeling sad”
“I am experiencing grief”
Those phrases create just enough distance to remember that grief is something you are in, not something you are. That space matters. It allows the emotion to move, rather than define you.
Joy and loss can exist together
Grief does not cancel joy.
After my mum died, there were moments when my family laughed together through tears. I’ve crumpled on the kitchen floor one moment, then found myself laughing at a story my daughter told me the next.
These moments are not a betrayal. Feeling love, gratitude, or even joy alongside grief doesn’t diminish loss—it reflects the complexity of being alive.
Two things can be true at once.
Practical ways to live alongside grief
Keep the connection in your own way
We all honour loss differently. My mum and I were readers. After she died, the most precious thing I received wasn’t jewellery—it was two bags of her books. Seeing where she’d folded down pages, the note she’d written inside the cover, felt like continuing a conversation.
Are there places, habits, words, or rituals you could revisit—or even begin—that keep a sense of connection alive?
Capture stories (if you can)
When someone dies, we often lose not only them, but their stories—and the stories of those who came before them. There’s a growing movement around recording life stories, wisdom, or memories in anticipation of loss. It can be comforting to have that continuity across generations.
Move your body
Walking became essential for me. Grief lives in the body, and movement helped me feel like I was doing something with the emotion. Walking side by side also made conversations easier—less intense than sitting face-to-face, more spacious.
Let awe support you
When my mum died, the emotion that steadied me most was awe.
Inspired by Dacher Keltner’s writing on awe and loss, I intentionally sought experiences that connected me to something larger than myself. For me, that meant museums—spaces that offered wonder, perspective, and a sense of being part of a much bigger story.
Awe can come from nature, big ideas, the night sky, acts of moral courage, or creativity. It doesn’t erase grief, but it can help meaning return, gently.
Find the people who understand
Grief doesn’t end when the funeral does.
If you can, find people who understand that. Check whether you have the support you need—and allow yourself to ask for help. We’re often taught to handle grief alone, but shared grief is lighter to carry.
How emotions coaching can help
Emotions coaching doesn’t try to fix grief or rush it away. Instead, it offers a space to:
explore what you’re feeling without judgement
understand your emotional patterns
create distance between you and the emotion
learn how to live a full life alongside loss
If you’re navigating grief for the first time—or finding that it’s touching every part of your life—coaching can help you feel less alone and more supported as you move through it.
If you’d like to explore this together, emotions coaching is here to support you.
You don’t need to have the right words. You just need a place where what you’re feeling makes sense.
