How to Be Present When Grief Feels Overwhelming

Ever feel like grief is a fog? A thick, swirling mist that obscures everything, leaving you disoriented and lost? It’s a heavy blanket, muffling the sounds of the world, making colours seem duller. Loss, in whatever form it comes, has a way of doing that. It throws a wrench into the gears of our lives, leaving us feeling like time has stopped, or maybe even reversed.

Grief is like the ocean; it comes in waves, ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm,
and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.

~Vicki Harrison~

And in that fog, being present feels… well, impossible. Everything is a reminder. A song, a scent, a place – they all become little landmines, triggering fresh waves of sadness. You might find yourself replaying memories, both good and bad, wishing you could change the past, or just understand why. It’s a natural part of the process, this mental tug-of-war.

Finding Anchors in the Storm

But here’s the thing about being present, it’s not about ignoring the fog. It’s not about forcing yourself to be happy or pretending the pain isn’t there. Think of it more like navigating through the mist, one careful step at a time. It’s about acknowledging the sadness, letting it be there without judgement. The tears, the anger, the confusion – they’re all valid. Let them flow. Resisting them only makes the fog thicker.

Being present can be surprisingly small. It’s noticing the warmth of your coffee mug in your hands. It’s the sound of rain on the windowpane. It’s the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe. These tiny, seemingly insignificant moments are like little beacons in the fog. They’re anchors to the here and now.

Your mind will wander. That’s what minds do. It’ll try to pull you back into the past, into the “what ifs” and “should haves.” But gently, kindly, bring it back to the present. It’s a practice, not a perfect skill. Some days, the fog will be so thick you can barely see a foot in front of you. Other days, there will be glimpses of sunshine breaking through.

Grief and joy, sorrow and peace – they aren’t mutually exclusive. They can coexist, intertwined like threads in a tapestry. Being present isn’t about erasing the pain. It’s about making space for it, acknowledging its presence, and still finding those small, precious moments of connection to the world around you. It’s about remembering that even in the deepest fog, you are still here. You are still breathing. And that, in itself, is enough. You’ll get through this, one present moment at a time.