Hello,
I'm Ryan.
And I'm really glad you're here.
If you chose this meditation,
There's a good chance you've been carrying something heavy.
Maybe you lost someone you love.
Maybe you're grieving the end of a relationship.
Maybe you're grieving a dream that never came true.
Or maybe you're grieving a part of yourself that you lost somewhere along the way.
Can I tell you something I've learned?
Most people think grief is only something we experience after someone dies.
I don't.
I believe grief is the emotional response to loss,
And loss comes in many forms.
Maybe you're grieving the father you never really had,
The mother who couldn't give you the love you needed,
The childhood you deserved,
But never got to live.
Maybe you're grieving years spent surviving instead of living.
Or maybe you're grieving the person you thought someone would become.
Whatever brought you here,
Your grief is real and it deserves to be acknowledged.
Here's the thing.
Most of us were never taught how to grieve.
We were taught to stay busy,
To be strong,
To keep moving,
To distract ourselves,
To tell ourselves,
I'm okay,
Even when we weren't.
But what we refuse to grieve,
We continue to carry.
And eventually,
What we've been carrying starts carrying us.
Maybe you're tired,
Not just physically,
But emotionally.
Maybe you've spent so much energy trying not to cry,
Trying not to think about it,
Trying not to feel it.
That you've forgotten what it feels like to simply be with yourself.
I want you to know something before we begin.
This meditation isn't about helping you get over your grief,
Because I don't believe that's the goal.
The goal isn't to stop loving.
The goal isn't to stop missing.
The goal isn't to pretend the loss didn't matter.
The goal.
Is to help you stop carrying your grief.
All by yourself.
For the next few minutes,
You don't have to be strong.
You don't have to have the answers.
You don't have to force yourself to feel anything.
You simply have to be willing to stay,
To stay with yourself,
To stay with your heart,
Because healing doesn't begin when the grief disappears.
Healing begins when you stop running from it.
Let's begin together.
Before we go any further.
I'd like to spend a few moments helping your mind and body settle.
Not because we're trying to make the grief disappear.
And not because we're trying to stop the tears if they come.
We're simply creating enough space.
To be with what's already here.
We're going to use a simple box breath.
As you breathe,
There's nothing you need to force,
Nothing you need to change.
Simply follow my voice.
Slowly breathe in.
One.
Hold 1.
4 Now slowly breathe out.
4.
Remain empty.
One.
4.
Again,
Slowly breathe in.
One.
4.
Hold.
One.
Too.
3.
4.
Slowly breathe out.
2.
4.
Remain empty.
One.
One last time.
Breathe in.
One.
3.
4.
Hold 1.
2,
3,
4.
Slowly breathe out.
1,
2,
3,
4.
Remain empty.
1,
2,
3,
4.
Good.
Don't look for something dramatic.
Don't ask yourself if you're doing this right.
Just notice.
Notice your breathing.
Notice your shoulders.
Notice your jaw.
Notice your chest.
Nourish your stomach.
You don't have to relax.
You don't have to make the grief smaller.
Just notice what it feels like to give yourself permission.
To slow down.
Without having to run away.
Let's stay here.
For just a little longer.
Now.
Gently bring your attention inward.
Not toward the person you've lost.
Not toward what happened.
Not toward the future.
Just towards yourself.
Simply notice.
Where your grief lives in your body.
Maybe you feel it in your chest,
As though something heavy has been resting there for a long time.
Maybe you notice it in your throat.
Where words,
Tears,
Or goodbyes have remained unspoken.
Maybe it's in your stomach.
That quiet ache.
That emptiness.
That feeling that something important is missing.
Or maybe it's somewhere else entirely.
There isn't a right answer.
Just notice.
Can I ask you something?
When was the last time you allowed yourself to simply notice your grief without trying to make it go away?
Control it.
Blame it.
Fix it.
Most of us don't.
We distract ourselves.
We stay busy.
We take care of everyone else.
We tell ourselves we'll deal with it later.
But feelings don't disappear because we ignore them.
They wait patiently for the moment we finally feel safe enough to listen.
So today,
You don't have to fix your grief.
You don't have to understand it.
You don't even have to put words to it.
You only have to notice.
What's already here.
If you notice tightness.
Just notice it.
If you notice sadness,
Just notice it.
If you notice anger,
Just notice it.
If you notice nothing at all,
Notice that too.
Every experience is welcome.
Think about that for a moment.
What if your grief isn't trying to hurt you?
What if it's trying to show you.
What mattered most?
Because we only grieve what we loved.
We only grieve.
What meant something to us.
Your grief isn't evidence that you're weak.
It's evidence.
That your heart knows how to love.
Stay with that feeling.
Just a little longer.
You don't have to carry it by yourself anymore.
For these next few moments.
I'll stay here with you.
Can I ask you something?
What is it that you're really grieving?
Maybe the answer comes to you immediately.
Maybe it doesn't.
Don't force it.
Just stay open.
Maybe you're grieving someone who died.
Someone whose absence changed your life forever.
Maybe you're grieving someone who's still alive.
But no longer part of your life.
Maybe you're grieving the end of a marriage.
Of friendship.
Or a relationship you believed would last forever.
Maybe you're grieving the father you never really had.
The mother who couldn't give you what you needed.
The childhood you deserved.
But never got to experience.
Or maybe.
.
.
You're grieving the person you thought you would be by now.
The dreams that never happen.
The years that were spent surviving.
Instead of living.
Whatever came to your mind.
Don't push it away.
Stay with it.
You see.
.
.
Most people think grief only follows death.
But grief follows loss,
Any loss.
Because every loss leaves behind something that once mattered.
And here's what I want you to remember.
Your grief isn't a sign that something is wrong with you.
It's a sign.
That something mattered to you.
Does someone matter to you?
That a part of your life matter to you.
So,
Instead of asking.
.
.
Why can't I get over this?
Maybe ask yourself.
What am I still carrying?
What did I lose?
That my heart is still trying to make sense of.
Don't search for the perfect answer.
Maybe a memory comes.
Maybe a face.
Maybe a feeling.
Maybe tears.
Maybe nothing at all.
Every response.
Is welcome.
For just a moment.
Allow yourself to acknowledge that loss.
You don't have to explain it.
You don't have to justify it.
You don't have to compare it to anyone else's.
Your grief.
Is your grief,
And it deserves to be felt.
I'd like you to imagine your grief.
Standing in front of you.
Don't worry if you can't see anything clearly.
Maybe you notice an image.
Maybe you simply sense its presence.
Maybe you only feel it in your body.
Trust whatever comes naturally.
Notice what this grieving part of you looks like.
Does it seem tired?
Alone?
Maybe it's been carrying this loss for a very long time.
Can I ask you something?
How long has this part of you?
Been carrying this grief.
Without someone truly listening.
Maybe months.
Maybe years.
Maybe decades.
Most people have spent far more time trying to silence their grief than they have listening to it.
Instead of trying to make this feeling disappear.
Become curious.
Silently ask this grieving part of yourself.
What have you been carrying?
All this time?
Don't force an answer.
Don't make one up.
Simply create space.
Maybe a memory appears.
Maybe it's a face.
Maybe it's a conversation you wish you could have had.
Maybe it's words you never got to say.
Or words.
You always needed to hear.
Maybe this grieving part quietly says,
I miss them.
I miss who I used to be.
I miss what could have been.
I miss feeling safe.
I miss feeling loved.
Whatever comes,
Receive it.
You don't have to fix it.
You don't have to explain it.
Just listen.
Because healing begins the moment your grief no longer has to carry itself alone.
Look at this grieving part of yourself.
With the same compassion.
You would offer someone you love.
And gently say,
I see you.
I see how much you've been carrying.
I see how deeply you've loved.
I see how deeply you've hurt.
And you don't have to carry this by yourself anymore.
You may.
Never stop missing.
What you've lost.
And that's okay.
Love leaves an imprint.
Grief is often the echo.
Of that love.
But from this moment forward.
.
.
You don't have to run from it.
You don't have to bury it.
You don't have to pretend you're okay.
When you're not.
You can simply stay.
One breath at a time.
One feeling at a time.
One moment.
At a time.
Can I?
Leave you with one final thought.
Grief has a way of making us believe that if we stop hurting,
We're somehow letting go of the person,
Or the life,
Or the dream we lost.
But healing.
Was never about letting go of love.
Healing.
Is learning how to carry that love.
Without letting it crush you.
You don't honor someone by staying broken.
You honor them by allowing the love they gave you to continue shaping the way you live.
And if what you're grieving wasn't a person,
But a childhood,
A relationship,
A dream,
Or the life you thought you would have,
The same truth still applies.
You don't heal by pretending it didn't matter.
You heal by allowing yourself to say,
It mattered,
And it always will.
Take a slow breath in.
On 3.
4.
Hold one.
4.
Slowly breathe out.
One.
4.
Place one hand over your heart.
And if it feels comfortable.
Place your other hand over your stomach.
Feel the warmth of your own hands.
Feel your breath.
Feel yourself.
Showing up for yourself.
Silently say,
I don't have to rush my grief.
I don't have to hide my grief.
I don't have to carry it alone.
I will stay with myself.
As you begin bringing your awareness back into the room,
Notice the surface beneath you.
Notice the sounds around you.
Gently move your fingers,
Your hands,
Your feet.
There is no rush.
When you're ready.
Take one final breath.
In.
And slowly breathe out.
One.
3 4.
Remember.
Grief isn't something you're meant to get over.
It's something you're meant to move through.
One breath.
One feeling,
One day at a time.
Thank you for allowing me to spend this time with you today.
Take good care of yourself.
And when you're ready.
.
.
Gently open your eyes.