I am a recovering "Practical Griever"

This week, I tuned into a podcast that's nearly six years old, featuring the incredible Brene Brown and the renowned David Kessler. If you haven't heard of David Kessler, you're in for a treat! He's a highly respected grief "expert," whose journey with grief began when he was just 13. His mother passed away while in intensive care, and during that time, he and his father were caught in a hotel during a 13-hour mass shooting in New Orleans. Fast forward to adulthood, Kessler and his partner adopted two boys, and tragically, one of them died from an accidental overdose in 2016. These profound experiences with grief have deeply shaped his life.

Listen to the podcast

Professionally, Kessler is a thanatologist and has authored six insightful books on grief, death, and dying. He formed a remarkable partnership with Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, a psychiatrist and the brilliant mind behind On Death and Dying. In 1995, after a series of strokes left her paralyzed and facing her own mortality, she and Kessler penned their first book together, Life Lessons: Two Experts on Death and Dying. Dr. Kubler-Ross passed away in 2004, but just a month before, they completed their second book, On Grief and Grieving.

Now, in the spirit of openness, I don't agree with everything Dr. Kubler-Ross wrote about grief (she emphasized stages and the idea of a "completion" of grief). And I can't say I always see eye to eye with Kessler either, but that's the beauty of it! These "experts" have enriched my understanding and provided tools to explore my own ideas on grief.

Back to the podcast! In the first part, Kessler introduces the fascinating concept of a "practical griever." These are individuals who experience loss, show a bit of grief and emotion, but then move on swiftly. They handle all types of loss with practicality and often feel impatient with "emotional people," while others marvel at their coping skills.

As Kessler described practical grievers, I had an epiphany—I used to be one! I never quite grasped the idea of "breaking down" or "falling apart." Watching others become deeply emotional during loss or transition, miss work or school, and rely on support networks baffled me. Though I've shed plenty of tears and felt a whirlwind of emotions, I couldn't recall a time when grief brought my life to a standstill. When my ex-husband and I decided on divorce, we spent a sleepless night discussing logistics, but I was right back to work the next morning. When I experienced a diagnosis of rheumotid arthritis at age 23, I left the doctor's appointment went home as if it was a normal day.

As I've grown older and faced more loss, I'm thrilled to say I'm no longer a practical griever. I'm embracing my emotions and feelings, and it's something worth celebrating! It makes me a better person, more supportive of others. I relate better, anticipate needs, and show up in meaningful ways. Instead of wondering, "how can they cry this much in one day?" I'm finding ways to help them nourish their bodies and souls, allowing them to grieve as they need. Walking with grief has strengthened me and, dare I say, made me a better human.

I journal, I read, I move my body and look for nourshiment that fuels em.

If you're reading this and thinking, "I am a practical griever!" that's perfectly okay! There's nothing wrong with that—I thrived for 40 years as an active practical griever. The key is ensuring it works for you and those around you. Are you allowing yourself and others the space to grieve and acknowledge that weight?