Gratitude for Grief

Last month, I was at the Gardens on Spring Creek, feeling drawn to the seeds bursting out of all the plants and trees as they made their way into autumn mode. I was struck by how nature was full of promises and future possibilities.

Each seed felt like gratitude even though the plant or flower had died (at least as we humans understand it). Yet the life-death-life cycle promises new growth out of that death. We may grieve the loss of that flower and also be grateful to those seeds and their promise of a new spring.

Seeds are possibilities and ensure abundance grows.

A few years before I left Higher Education and after the grieving process I shared about last week, I started planting seeds of gratitude.

  • I am grateful to Higher Ed for providing space to hone my craft of writing. I am a much more confident writer now than when I started.

  • Teaching is part of my life's purpose, and Higher Ed gave me a place to practice, learn, and become a stronger teacher.

  • I am grateful to my previous institution for the opportunity to learn how to set boundaries, albeit slowly.

Now, it's your turn.

If you've been following along on our grief journey the last couple of weeks, reflect on the types of grief you resonated with.

What seeds of gratitude can you gather or plant as you grieve?

If that feels overwhelming or too hard, that's ok. Allow the grief to come. Then, see if you can find even the smallest seed.

Remember, this is about cultivating a practice of gratitude for grief. It takes time. And by having a grieving process or rituals, you continuously rebuild your resilience and weave in critical hope.

Remember that grief is your natural response to loss. This is why each of us has to learn and develop our own grief process and rituals. (More on this soon. Tuck that seed away for now.)

In the meantime, make sure to register for this month's free workshop on grieving your career and identity. We'll be gathering (and maybe even planting) a few seeds on November 29.

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Who are You?

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My Dear John letter to Academia: Processing grief through writing