There’s a Fall and a Winter, Too: On Grief, Love, and Letting Go

An autumn reflection on grief, emotional healing, and learning to live with the things we cannot fix

“Grief and love are sisters, woven together from the beginning.” 
- Francis Weller

Well, fall is definitely here! Isn't it glorious?! The leaves are doing their showing-off thing, the light is beautifully golden, the temps are fluctuating, and I'm desperately looking for my favorite cashmere hat to keep my bald head cozy.

At this point in the cycle of seasons, we're fully immersed in nature's energy of change, letting go, and endings. I'm definitely feeling it and trying my best to soften my grip on the way things have been, the way things are, and the idea that I know anything at all.

It's a messy thing, this humaning, isn't it? Trying to make sense of it all, fumbling our way through the great mystery of being alive.

Are you feeling it, too?

I've been thinking about grief lately. And love. And how the two seem to be woven together in ways we'd probably rather they weren't.

We lose people we love. Relationships change. Dreams don't always come true. And sometimes life takes us in directions we never expected, as John Lennon made famous: "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."

And yet, here we are, loving things anyway. Opening our hearts, making plans, getting attached. Thank goodness!! I mean, what would the alternative be?!

The Many Faces of Grief

I think we tend to associate grief mostly with death, but there are so many other kinds of loss. The things we wanted and never got. The ways we needed to be loved that we weren't. The suffering happening in the world. The life we imagined we'd have by now.

Francis Weller explores this in his beautiful book, The Wild Edge of Sorrow, describing what he calls the Five Gates of Grief. I love this framework because it reminds us that grief lives in so many places: in what we've loved and lost, what we needed but didn't receive, the sorrows of the world, the dreams that never came to pass, and the grief we carry from our ancestors.

That's quite a lot of grief, isn't it?!

And, personally speaking, I see myself spending so much energy trying to get away from it all. I keep busy, try to figure things out, look for the lesson or silver lining. I mean, if I'm going to suffer, I might as well come out wiser or something, right?

But what if I don't have to make everything mean something?

What if sometimes I'm just sad? Or disappointed, angry, or confused? What if I don't need to turn every painful experience into a personal growth opportunity?

The Trouble With Trying to Fix Everything

When things get uncomfortable, my instinct is usually to DO something. Figure it out, fix it, make a plan. Find the way forward. Preferably ASAP!

Sitting in the middle of something I can't fix is not exactly my superpower. But I'm trying to get a little more comfortable with not knowing. And boy, is that uncomfortable.

We want answers. We want reassurance that things will work out, that the pain will pass, that we're heading in the right direction. We want a map, or at least a little signpost. Pretty please… 🙏

But sometimes there isn't one.

Sometimes the life we knew is no longer quite the life we're living, and the next chapter hasn't revealed itself yet. We're somewhere in between. We can't go back, but we can't quite see the way forward, either.

I'm learning (slowly) that I don't always need to rush through that space. I can allow myself (as hard as it is!) not to know, to let things be unfinished, unresolved, and yes, even a little messy.

And here's a bit of a shocker for me...

Maybe I don't have to turn every season into a season of growth. I mean, there's a fall and a winter, too! A season of loss and a season of stillness.

Sometimes we need to let go and grieve. Sometimes we need to do nothing and stare at the wall for twenty minutes and have absolutely nothing to show for it.

What Does It Mean to Be Healed?

I'm beginning to understand that, for me, being healed doesn't mean nothing hurts anymore. Perhaps it means becoming a little more willing to meet life as it is, with all its beauty, uncertainty, tenderness, and occasional absurdity.

Because love and grief are woven together. We can't protect ourselves from every loss without also closing ourselves off from some of the very things that make life meaningful.

I think this is part of what healing asks of us. Not that we somehow become immune to the difficulties of being human, but that we find ways to be with ourselves through them. To make room for the feelings that come. To seek support when we need it. To remember that we don't have to figure everything out all at once.

At Village Wellness, our work with acupuncture and holistic healing is grounded in the understanding that well-being involves more than simply fixing what's wrong. Sometimes it's about creating space to rest, reconnect with ourselves, and find a little more ease in the midst of life's changes.

We don't always need to push forward. Sometimes we need to pause and listen.

A Little Something to Contemplate This Fall

Is there something in your life you're trying really hard to figure out right now? Something you wish were different, or something you don't quite know how to move through?

What would it feel like to give yourself permission not to have an answer today?

Take a walk. Sit under a tree. Have a cup of tea. Watch the leaves fall. Just allow yourself to be exactly where you already are.

As we move deeper into autumn, I'm trying to remember that there's so much value in the quiet seasons, too. That not knowing is an essential part of life. That we don't have to be moving forward all the time to be living fully.

And that sometimes, making room for what's next begins with allowing ourselves to be right here, exactly as we are.

Sending you lots of love this fall. ❤️

Lots of love,

Lance
Village Builder and Healer type guy ◡̈

On behalf of the whole Village Wellness team!

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