Navigating Grief with Compassion: A Heartfelt Journey Through Loss

Credits to Pema Chödrön and Tara Brach, whose luminous wisdom guides this reflection - an invitation to sit tenderly with your grief.

When loss arrives, it can feel like that first monsoon downpour washing away all the familiar contours of your world. Your breath grows shallow, and every familiar rhythm halts in that vast silence. Yet in this quiet, tender space, spirituality reveals itself not as a distant ideal but as the soft earth beneath your feet, the steady pulse of your own heart, the gentle flame that kindles compassion for yourself.

And here, we pause to honour that ache.

In our Indian tradition, we greet unexpected visitors... rain, strangers, the turning of the seasons - with water, flowers, and an open door. What if we offered the same hospitality to grief? Pema reminds us, “When things fall apart, it’s both a test and a healing.” Instead of shoving sorrow to the margins, we might lean in and whisper, “I see you. I recognize your truth.”

This is Radical Acceptance, as Tara teaches: allowing whatever moves through our heart - anger, longing, deep sadness - without judgment. You might simply say to yourself,...

“Yes, you are here; I am here with you.” In that permission, the fierce internal struggle softens, and a small crack opens in the armour around your heart.

And then, breath by breath, we find refuge.

Grief often speaks through the body: a hollow ache in the chest, a heaviness in the limbs, a constriction in the throat. Pema offers the profound insight that “the very pain we resist can become our greatest teacher.” Rather than retreating, bring mindful awareness to each sensation. Rest in curiosity:

• Where do you feel this?

• What shape does it take?

• How does it move when you simply allow it to be?

  
  

With each inhale, soften around the edges; with each exhale, release a fraction of the tension. In this gentle kneading of awareness, sorrow begins to untangle and flow, like monsoon water finding its way through riverbeds.

And ever so softly, we remember impermanence.

Life unfolds in constant change - gulmohar blossoms blaze and drift away; monsoon skies gather and then disperse. Pema teaches that when we resist this truth, suffering deepens; when we lean into it, transformation emerges. To practice this, sit quietly and feel the ever-shifting breath, the subtle rise and fall of each moment. You’ll discover a spaciousness beneath the waves of emotion - a grounding presence that holds both grief and serenity.

And here, a seed of compassion takes root.

In the depths of sorrow, self‑judgment can tighten its grip: “I should be stronger,” “Why can’t I move on?” Tara’s practice of Maitri -- self‑compassion, offers a simple yet powerful remedy. Place your hand over your heart, breathe fully, and speak these words inwardly:

“May I be gentle with my pain.”Let this kindness wash through you, rewiring your nervous system from fight‑or‑flight into rest‑and‑digest.

You need not walk this path alone. Just as banyan trees gather beneath their sprawling branches, our communities hold us in times of loss. If you feel called, reach out to a friend, join a meditation circle, or simply share a cup of chai and your story. Sometimes, the most healing gift is another’s quiet presence saying, “I am here, and I see you.”

And finally, we honor remembrance.

Rituals give form to what feels formless. You might light a diya each evening, offering a silent prayer to the one you’ve lost. Or you may write a letter, saying all the things that remain unspoken.. then fold it gently into a special box. Perhaps you create a small altar: a photograph, a single flower, a meaningful object. Each ritual is not a cure, but a sacred pause..... a moment to acknowledge that love endures beyond absence.

Grief is neither tidy nor swift. It unfolds in its own time, like monsoon clouds drifting across an endless sky. Yet each pause of Radical Acceptance, each breath of presence, and each gesture of self‑compassion becomes a step toward wholeness.

As Pema writes in When Things Fall Apart, “We catch ourselves one zillion times - and each time, we have the chance to offer ourselves tenderness.” And as Tara reminds us, “Here, in this moment, is everything.”

May you feel held by these words, may you find a sanctuary within your own being, and may each breath remind you that, in the midst of sorrow, you are profoundly, beautifully alive.

With deep care and unwavering presence,

Anjali Mahalke

If you need grief therapy in India, do checkout my practice to enroll for the therapy service.

References

1. Brach, Tara. “Grief.” TaraBrach.com. https://www.tarabrach.com/grief/

2. Brach, Tara. “RAIN of Self‑Compassion.” TaraBrach.com. https://www.tarabrach.com/rain/

3. Chödrön, Pema. When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times. Shambhala Publications, 1997.

4. Chödrön, Pema. “The Poison Becomes the Medicine.” Always Well Within. https://www.alwayswellwithin.com/blog/2018/04/07/pema-chodron-quotes-when-things-fall-apart