Grief, Growth, and Listening to the Body

As we move towards Beltane, the mid point between the Spring Equinox and the Summer Solstice, there is traditionally a sense of shifting energy. A movement towards growth, light, renewal, and life becoming fuller again after winter.

Nature certainly seems to be reflecting that at the moment. The trees are greener almost overnight, the mornings are brighter, and with this glorious sunshine we are being encouraged back outside again. There is something restorative about this time of year, and perhaps that is why it feels like an appropriate moment to reflect on healing, transition, and the connection between our emotional and physical wellbeing.

Recently, I experienced the loss of my godfather. During his final days, I had the privilege of providing reflexology for him. It was very clearly well received, not only by him, but also noticed by other family members who commented on the visible sense of calm and relaxation during the treatment.

This is not the first time I have provided reflexology as part of end-of-life care, and each time it feels like a real privilege to be trusted in those moments. Reflexology at the end of life is never about “fixing” anything. Instead, it becomes about comfort, reassurance, gentle connection, and creating space for relaxation and peace.

Being alongside someone at the end of their life also brings a different perspective to our own. It has a way of sharpening our awareness of time, relationships, and the importance of simply being present with one another.

Grief Lives in the Body Too

Grief is often spoken about emotionally, and there are many recognised stages and theories around bereavement. It had been some time since I had experienced a close personal loss, and I realised this experience felt very different from how I remembered grief before.

Alongside the emotions I expected, I noticed a strong physical response almost immediately following his death. In particular, I became aware of tightness and stiffness through my hips and lower body. It felt as though my body was physically holding tension before my mind had even fully processed what had happened.

What has interested me most is how grief seems to unlock not only feelings connected to the person we have lost, but also memories, thoughts, and emotions from much further back. Raw grief has a way of reaching deeply into us, surfacing things we perhaps did not even realise were still there.

Over time, the sharpness of grief softens and changes shape, but I think the body can continue to hold onto parts of that tension long afterwards.

There is growing understanding around how closely our emotional and physical wellbeing are connected. During periods of stress, grief, or emotional overwhelm, the body often responds by tightening and protecting itself. For me, I noticed this particularly through my hips and lower body, almost as though my body was bracing before my mind had fully caught up.

Research into embodied emotion and somatic responses supports the idea that emotions are not only experienced mentally, but physically too. Stress, anxiety, sadness, and grief can all present within the body as muscular tension, fatigue, discomfort, or changes in posture and movement. Recent studies have explored the relationship between emotional stress and hip function, highlighting the close relationship between emotional and physical wellbeing.

Gentle Self-Care During Grief

One thing I have become very aware of is the importance of supporting ourselves gently during periods of grief and stress.

Part of that for me has been continuing to receive reflexology myself. Almost immediately, I noticed my whole body holding more tension, and having that space to properly relax and reset has felt incredibly important.

I also knew I did not want to stop moving. Exercise is as essential for my mental wellbeing as it is for my physical health, but instinctively I have softened my usual routines. Instead of pushing harder, I have found myself drawn towards gentler movement — stretching, Pilates, walking — anything that encourages the body to release rather than brace.

Early morning walks have probably helped me the most. No headphones, no distractions, just birdsong, sunshine, and the opportunity to quietly process my thoughts. We are incredibly lucky with the weather at the moment, and nature itself feels soothing in a way that is difficult to fully explain.

I have talked to friends, taken quiet moments simply to sit still, and allowed myself space to slow down a little.

At the moment, I am not entirely sure where this experience will take me emotionally. Grief is not linear, and I suspect it continues to unfold in its own time. For now, I am simply trying to ride the wave whilst looking after myself.

Perhaps that is part of this season too — not only growth and renewal, but learning to support ourselves gently through periods of change, transition, and reflection.

And perhaps that is enough.

If you are navigating grief yourself, please remember there is no “correct” way to move through it. Sometimes the most important thing we can do is slow down enough to listen to what our body and mind might be asking for.

PBx 👣