Navigating Grief With Compassion (When the World Feels Too Loud)
Grief rearranges us. It shifts the ground beneath our feet and asks us to relearn who we are in the quiet that follows. When my dad passed away in November 2025, the world didn’t just feel different, I felt different. Simple things became overwhelming, and the pace of everyday life suddenly felt too loud, too fast, too demanding.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that grief isn’t something to “get over.” It’s something you learn to walk with. Some days it’s heavy, other days it’s softer, almost whisper-like. But it’s always there, asking to be acknowledged with gentleness.
On the harder days, compassion becomes a lifeline.
Compassion looks like:
allowing yourself to rest without guilt
lowering expectations
saying no to things that drain you
letting yourself cry when your body asks to
giving yourself permission to be exactly how you are
There were days when I felt emotionally raw, unable to find language for what I was feeling. It was in those moments that I realised healing wasn’t in “doing more,” but in letting myself be held, by my breath, by the people I trust, by my spiritual practice, by the softness of routine.
Grief reveals the places that need love.
And compassion is how we begin the tender work of offering that love to ourselves.
If you’re moving through loss, please know this: you don’t need to be strong. You don’t need to stay busy. You just need to be honest with your heart, and let it lead at its own pace.
Your healing will never be linear, but it will be yours, sacred, slow and deeply human.