Integrating Softness Day-to-Day
Calming the Grieving Mind
The grieving mind is complex.
I recall taking over two years to finish an entire book after my mom died. I’d pick it up, read the first page, struggle to remember what I’d just read, and simply put the book down for a later reading. Unfortunately, future attempts yielded the same result. I just couldn’t get beyond the first page, which frustrated me to no end.
“What’s wrong with me?” I often asked myself.
The answer was unequivocally NOTHING. Nothing was wrong.
See grief has a way of reshaping the mind, clouding our memories and making it challenging to concentrate and focus. It’s not uncommon for the grieving mind to become easily disoriented … sometimes looping back to the loss experience itself and other times, aimlessly drifting into a fog. Nearly 13 years into my grief journey, I occasionally find myself staring off into space in a daze. Just the other day, I awakened to myself while staring at my computer, confused about what I was previously focused on and uncertain about what came next. You can imagine that tasks that typically feel routine or manageable can become quite overwhelming, to say the least.
And yet, life continues to move forward, requiring those who grieve to pay attention, live in the moment, and be productive.
When I returned to work following my mom’s death in 2012, I didn’t experience the mental impact of grieving just yet. However, months and years into the grief process, the gap between my internal challenges and external demands widened.
It was in this tension that I recognized an invitation to increasingly integrate softness into my daily rhythms and help calm my grieving mind.
Now before I continue, I must add that approaching life in a softer way was in direct contrast to my upbringing and way of thinking. From an early age, I learned that high performance resulted in excellence, that living life with excellence resulted in happiness, and happiness led to a good life. In other words, go hard at all times. And go hard I did … until I simply couldn’t sustain it anymore. Two years into grieving the death of my mom, I knew something had to change.
With the help of a psychologist at the time, I began to learn that integrating softness into my life didn’t diminish the depth of grief. On the contrary, it created space for me to grieve, allowing me to be fully present with my emotions. Fully human in my emotions.
My friend, embracing softness as you grieve is supportive as you learn to live a new life, particularly as you encounter the very real cognitive impacts associated with loss.
Though still in its infancy and complex at best, researchers have increasingly begun to focus on the neurocognitive effects of grief on the mind. You may be familiar with the term “grief brain,” characterized by the following symptoms: forgetfulness, disorientation, slowed information processing, mental restlessness, and difficulty concentrating. I can personally attest to experiencing all of the above over the years to varying degrees. What I realized was just how normal the symptoms are and that they aren’t a sign of weakness or failure. Instead, the symptoms reflect the grieving brain’s attempt to beautifully and skillfully re-orient itself in response to trauma and change. Think about that for a moment.
Going hard simply isn’t helpful throughout the brain’s re-orientation process.
While frustrating, perhaps, one of the greatest gifts we grieving hearts can offer ourselves is softness … to help reduce the dissonance between how we once operated and how we’re functioning now. Softness allows us to normalize the additional loss of our former selves.
What might this look like?
Well, softening to aid the grieving mind may mean relaxing the expectations you have about the grief process itself. Or recognizing that the mental disruption you’re experiencing isn’t a flaw, but part of the journey of navigating loss.
Essentially, softening enables you to choose care for yourself over critique.
A few ways I’ve done this include:
Reframing what success looks like. That’s right! As a high-achieving woman, I’ve found it beneficial to count all my wins … remembering to hydrate throughout the day, responding to one email, and even getting out of bed some days. Success isn’t about doing something big; it’s about doing something.
Allowing my focus to shift without judging myself. Journaling continues to be a powerful tool I’ve used over the years to let my thoughts flow from topic to topic without pressure to sustain attention in any given area. It’s like filling a blank canvas and simply creating whatever comes up in the moment.
Honoring my ever-changing ‘grief brain.’ Instead of viewing mental fog as a barrier, I’ve learned to count it as an opportunity to pause and listen. Sometimes, the fog is simply a signal that rest – or redirection – is in order.
Working in shorter time blocks. Over the years, I’ve grown fond of working in 15- to 30-minute increments, followed by a short break. Not only has this allowed me to acknowledge the reality of my grieving mind, but it’s also, perhaps ironically, helped me be more productive. Remember, taking a break isn’t giving up. It’s respecting your limits.
Talking to myself with kindness. Friend, language matters. When my mind wanders or experiences overwhelm, I simply tell myself, “I’m still grieving, and I may need to slow down today.” Language has the power to transform how you relate to the grief process.
Asking for help. Admittedly, this has been the most difficult for me. However, I’ve worked hard to allow others to support me. On days when my grieving mind feels strained, I ask others to step in and lighten the load.
Taken together, grief can make you feel mentally fragmented. However, you’re still whole. While the grieving mind works to help you live in the unimaginable, know that you’re not inadequate or failing. While you journey alongside grief, remember that living softer can be the bridge between now and the next … whatever that may be.
Integrating softness isn’t a luxury as you grieve. It’s a lifeline to help calm the grieving mind.
Let it be your guide, my friend.
xo, Mekel
