Greetings,
And Welcome.
To the Octopus Grief Collection Series.
This meditation is entitled,
The Grief Nobody Saw.
There are losses that we experience that the world never sees.
Losses that don't come with funerals.
Losses that don't receive sympathy cards.
Losses that aren't marked by ceremonies.
Gatherings.
Or words of comfort.
And yet Their loss is all the same.
Perhaps you've grieved a relationship that ended.
A friend.
Or friendship,
I quietly disappeared.
A dream.
That you had to let go of it.
The life.
That you imagined that you would be living right now.
Or perhaps.
.
.
You're grieving.
Person you once were.
And maybe no one noticed.
Maybe no one can.
Maybe someone told you that you should just be grateful.
That you should move on.
The things.
Could have been worse.
Or that time.
Will help you to get over it.
And somewhere along the way.
You may have begun questioning whether you had the right to grieve at all.
You started wondering,
Is something wrong with me?
Why is it that I can't just let this go?
Why can't I just get over it?
Let's take some time.
Let us make some room.
For whatever you may be holding.
That may not have received.
Much Acknowledgement.
Much understanding.
Is their grief.
That nobody saw.
That nobody wanted to acknowledge or recognize.
That they dismissed.
And minimized.
Is present.
It hurts.
And it's real.
You don't have to explain your loss.
You don't have to justify your feelings and you don't have to make your experience understandable for anyone else.
For now.
You are simply invited.
To notice what is here.
And if it feels comfortable.
Allow your eyes to close.
You can keep them open,
Just resting your gaze somewhere in the room softly.
Notice the surface beneath you.
The place where your body feels supported and comfortable.
Maybe even.
.
.
Tune into the natural rhythm of your breathing.
There is nothing for you to change.
And if you want to,
I invite you just to imagine.
A vast and peaceful ocean.
With light filtering through the water.
Warm gentle currents moving beneath the surface.
And somewhere.
Within this expansive world.
Is an octopus.
An octopus with eight remarkable arms.
Each one capable of reaching Exploring.
Holding.
Connecting.
Perhaps you can imagine that some of those arms are holding experiences that others cannot see.
The disappointment.
An absence.
Betrayal.
A change you never wanted.
That never became reality.
Some losses are visible.
Others live quietly beneath the surface.
And just because.
Something can't be seen.
Does it mean it isn't there?
I invite you to become curious.
Is there a loss in your life?
That has never truly been acknowledged.
Perhaps it's something that you've carried for years.
Or maybe it's something that is more recent.
Or maybe you haven't even consider it.
Grief until right now in this very moment.
Whatever comes forward.
You don't need to explore it more deeply.
Than it feels comfortable to do.
We're not forcing anything.
We're not required to make anything happen.
We're just noticing,
Acknowledging.
Giving Rome.
For it to come forward.
And if nothing comes forward,
That's welcome also.
I invite you just to consider these words.
And allow it to just land with you.
Wherever it needs to for right now,
And just notice how you respond to it.
What I lost.
Mattered to me.
What you lost.
Matters.
And just notice what happens when you hear that.
When you say that to yourself,
What I lost mattered to me.
And as you hear the words from another.
What you lost.
Matters.
Notice where in your body that landed for you.
What may have softened,
What may have gotten tighter.
What may have that sigh of relief.
War gave the acknowledgment.
Yeah.
It does matter.
Maybe there's a part of you that.
.
.
Wonders whether you are making too much of what happened.
Maybe there's a part that's.
.
.
Angry that you haven't gotten over it as of yet,
That you haven't put it behind you.
That's telling you.
Something might be wrong with you because anybody else.
Would have gotten over it by now.
Notice what you're hearing.
And if it's possible.
Maybe you might ask.
Who taught me that?
My losses weren't important enough to grieve.
Who gave you that message.
Where did you learn that?
Who taught me?
That my losses.
Aren't important enough to grieve.
And the truth is,
Maybe no one ever said those exact words.
Out loud to you.
Maybe the message came through silence.
For being the Smiths.
Or through the expectation that you remain strong no matter what,
Having that stiff upper lip.
Or maybe it's just through the absence.
Of having someone.
Who was willing to listen to you.
To be able to hear what it is that you were holding and its impact on you.
Maybe.
You've been carrying that message.
For a long,
Long time.
But what if?
Just for a moment.
You didn't have to measure your grief against anyone else's.
Where you didn't have to hear or say to yourself,
Well,
It's not as bad as so-and-so's own.
Or hearing somebody tell you that,
Well,
At least it wasn't this.
Or at least it wasn't that.
What if just for a moment?
You didn't have to entertain any of that,
Hear any of that.
What if you're lost?
Didn't need to be greater than someone else's in order for it to matter.
Imagine the octopus resting quietly within the ocean.
There's no need for it to display everything that it carries.
No need to bring every experience to the surface.
It doesn't need to be reflected.
And its colors.
Because the ocean.
Holds that.
That cannot always be seen.
And perhaps,
So do you.
Those deep places.
Inside of you.
That are holding.
Grief.
Loss.
Hurt.
Burdens.
Scars.
Woo.
That no one else gets to see.
And they're not always reflected.
On your faith.
And your behavior.
In your body.
Or in your words.
But nonetheless.
They're there.
I invite you just to check in.
With yourself.
And only if it feels comfortable.
For you.
In this moment.
I invite you to consider a simple statement.
Something that mattered to me.
I lost it.
Something mattered to me.
And I lost it.
Maybe it's a person.
A relationship?
A sense of safety.
Maybe it's an opportunity.
A job,
A career.
Maybe it's a part of your identity.
Or the future that you imagined for yourself.
You don't need to name it out loud.
You can just simply acknowledge it within yourself.
And if it feels okay to offer it something.
Maybe you can offer these words.
I acknowledge what I lost.
I acknowledge that it mattered.
I acknowledge that my experience deserves compassion.
And give yourself permission because you don't have to believe every word immediately.
But you're inviting the whole of yourself.
To Jeff.
Consider the possibility that this is true.
And that is true for you.
Sometimes we spend so much time waiting for someone else to recognize what happened to us,
What's happening within us,
That we forget that we can begin by acknowledging our own experiences.
And that acknowledgement is just as valid.
Just as important.
Just as significant.
And it doesn't mean that being witnessed by others is unimportant.
It doesn't mean that you should have to carry your grief all alone.
And it certainly doesn't mean that the absence of acknowledgement didn't hurt.
It simply means that your experience matters.
Even when.
Others.
Don't recognize it.
Can you imagine?
The octopus gently resting one of its arms.
Not releasing everything,
Not forgetting anything.
Not pretending the loss never happened.
Simply allowing little space around something it has carried.
Maybe you can offer yourself.
The same invitation.
You don't have to resolve your grief today.
You don't have to find meaning in what happened.
You don't have to forgive anyone.
Right now.
And you don't have to turn your loss into a lesson.
For right now.
In this moment,
Acknowledgement.
Is enough.
Being truthful.
About what is present,
How you're feeling,
What you experience,
Is enough.
Be true.
To you.
Love yourself enough to tell yourself the truth.
And as we begin to close,
Notice the surface beneath you.
The sounds around you.
The place where you are resting.
And if it feels okay.
Maybe you can carry.
Question with you.
What would it mean for me?
To honor the loss that no one else ever acknowledged.
That no one else ever saw.
Yet it matters.
What would it mean?
For you to honor that.
And the truth is,
Is that you may not have an answer today.
And that's okay.
But maybe you can begin with this.
My grief.
Doesn't have to be visible.
To be real.
My life.
Does not have to be understood.
By everyone.
For it to matter.
And I don't have to earn the rights.
To acknowledge what hurts.
There are things you've carried that others may never.
Have seen.
But that doesn't mean that they were insignificant.
And it doesn't mean that you are alone in having to carry them.
Thank you so much for joining me on this meditation.
Thank you so much.
I invite you just to take a moment before returning.
To your day.
Allowing yourself just to be gently.
At the grief.
For the loss that's been present.
Thanking you.
For allowing you to connect with it today.
It was an honor to hold you.
As you connected with your grief.
The grief.
Nobody saw.
Yet,
It matters.
Bye for now.
