There are some kinds of grief that begin long before a loss actually happens.
Anticipatory grief can arise when we know—or fear—that we may lose someone or something important to us. It can happen when a loved one is seriously ill, a friend is facing a life-threatening diagnosis, an aging parent is declining, or a beloved animal is struggling with illness.
And yet, we don’t talk about anticipatory grief nearly enough.
I’ve been feeling it myself this week.My cat continues to struggle with kidney disease. She’s losing weight and experiencing multiple symptoms, and it has been incredibly hard to watch her decline day by day.
She’s still here.
But she isn’t the same as she was.
And there is grief in that, too.
I’m grieving the changes I see in her. I’m grieving the loss of some of the things she used to do. I’m grieving the uncertainty of what comes next. And I’m trying to stay present and appreciate the time we have together while also knowing that I may be moving toward a goodbye I don’t feel ready for.
At the same time, I’m carrying grief for a dear friend who is living with brain cancer and stopped treatments. Her time is limited.
Neither loss has happened.
And yet, there is grief.
There is sadness. Fear. Uncertainty. Moments of imagining what life might look like without someone I love. There can also be guilt for feeling grief when the person—or animal—is still here.
Anticipatory grief can feel particularly complicated because we are grieving while still hoping.
We can be grateful for today and afraid of tomorrow.
We can cherish the person or animal who is still with us while simultaneously grieving the changes that illness has already brought.
We may find ourselves moving back and forth between being fully present and mentally preparing ourselves for what might happen.
One moment we may feel gratitude for the time we have together, and the next we may feel overwhelmed by the possibility of losing it.
There isn’t necessarily a clear beginning or ending.
Making space for what is here
One of the things I find helpful—both personally and therapeutically—is bringing awareness to what is actually happening in the present moment.
Not forcing myself to stay positive.
Not trying to push the grief away.
Not asking myself to “make the most of every moment.”
Just noticing.
What am I feeling right now?
What am I grieving today?
Where do I notice this grief in my body?
What do I need today?
What is within my control, and what isn’t?
Sometimes the answer is simply:
I need to rest.
Grief takes energy. Anticipatory grief can be especially exhausting because we’re living with uncertainty while also trying to continue with everyday life.
This is one reason practices that slow us down can be so supportive.
Yoga as a way of meeting grief
Yoga doesn’t take grief away.
And it doesn’t require us to change what we’re feeling.
Instead, yoga can offer a way to bring awareness, compassion, presence, and expression to the experience we are already having.
Grief lives not only in our thoughts and emotions, but can also be experienced in the body. Sometimes we need a way to acknowledge and express what we’re carrying rather than trying to calm it down or move past it.
This is an important part of Grief Yoga® which I am trained in and offer to clients.
Movement, breath awareness, and sound can create opportunities to express grief in ways that don’t always require words.
Expression might look different for everyone.
It might be moving slowly and noticing sadness in the body. It might be allowing tears to come. It might be making a sound, sighing, or moving with more intensity when there is anger or frustration.
It might be placing your hands over your heart and acknowledging the love underneath the grief while offering yourself compassion in the process.
There is no particular way grief should be expressed.
Some practices that may support someone experiencing anticipatory grief include:
Bring awareness.
Before moving, pause and notice what is present. You might ask, What am I feeling right now? Where do I notice this in my body? There is no need to change the sensation or emotion. Simply making space to notice can be meaningful.
Allow expression.
Rather than trying to hold everything inside, allow movement, sound, breath, or tears to become forms of expression. You might gently sway, stretch, shake out your hands, sigh, or make a sound that feels authentic to what you’re experiencing.
Practice self-compassion.
Place a hand over your heart or another place that feels supportive. Notice the warmth and pressure of your hand. You might silently offer yourself, May I be kind to myself as I move through this.
Slow down.
Grief can be exhausting. Instead of pushing through a full yoga practice, consider a few minutes of slow, intuitive movement—or simply sitting and noticing. Let your body determine the pace.
Make space for rest.
Rest is not something we have to earn. Supported poses, lying down, or simply finding a comfortable position can offer permission to pause and care for ourselves. A longer time in Savasana can be so beneficial during these times.
Let the breath be natural.
There is no need to force a deep breath or regulate your breathing in a particular way. Simply noticing the breath as it is can help us stay connected to the present moment.
Hold grief and love together.
Anticipatory grief often contains both the fear of losing someone and the love we feel for them. A hand over the heart can become a simple reminder that we don’t have to choose between appreciating the present and acknowledging the pain of what may come.
Yoga doesn’t ask us to get rid of grief.
It can give grief somewhere to go.
There is no “right” way to grieve
As therapists, we know this intellectually. But when grief touches our own lives, it can be much harder to remember.
Anticipatory grief doesn’t follow a predictable timeline. You may feel okay one day and completely overwhelmed the next. For me it has been a roller coaster of emotion.
You may experience gratitude, sadness, anger, fear, relief, love, or even moments of joy—all within the same day.
You may even find yourself grieving something that has already changed while simultaneously fearing what you may lose in the future.
None of this means you’re grieving incorrectly.
Sometimes our work is simply to make space for what is here, while continuing to care for ourselves along the way.
And sometimes that means giving ourselves permission to slow down.
To rest.
To feel.
To express.
To be supported.
Making space for grief
This is part of why I created my upcoming Release & Reconnect Grief Retreat for Women.
The retreat is a space to slow down, connect with others who understand, and explore grief through embodied and mindful practices—including Grief Yoga®, Qi Gong, breath awareness, journaling, mindful walking, and time for reflection and connection.
Whether your loss has already happened, you’re anticipating a loss, or you’re grieving the changes that are happening right now, there is room for all of it.
Grief is heavy. This is a place to put it down.
If you’re carrying grief right now, I hope you can offer yourself the same compassion you would offer someone sitting across from you in your therapy room.
You don’t have to make the grief disappear.
You can simply make a little more space for it in a community of others who “get it”
Release & Reconnect: A Grief Retreat for Women
November 1 | 10:00 AM–3:00 PM | Sky Pond, Raleigh, NC
https://www.ubme.com/event/08adaafe-8b13-4d37-82b9-1ceec137aa8e
Sending you loving kindness,
Chris McDonald, LCMHCS
Licensed Therapist • Yoga Teacher • Grief Support
