The five movements of the grieving heart
Language matters...a reframe of the stages of grief for when the model doesn't speak to you.
Many of us have heard of the “five stages of grief.” They are so often spoken about that they’ve become part of the way society explains loss. And while that model helped to open up conversations, I feel it can seem too clinical, too neat, for something as messy and human as grief. This edition of Letters for the Heart casts a different lens on the movements your heart makes during grief.
Grief doesn’t move in straight lines. It moves like waves, spirals, seasons and it doesn’t fit into boxes that can be ticked off. You might feel rage in the morning, deep sadness in the afternoon, and a yearning that wakes you in the night. None of it is wrong, and none of it means you are failing. It simply means you are grieving.
Familiar markers?
When Elizabeth Kubler-Ross wrote her book On Death and Dying, in 1969, it was with a view to improving end-of-life care for those with terminal illness. One aspect of her research that struck a chord with the general public was the five stages of emotion that people with terminal illness appeared to have in common:
denial,
anger,
bargaining,
depression and
acceptance.
These stages have since come into use in popular language, commonly suggested to people experiencing grief as a sort of roadmap.
In writing about this, I am not by any means suggesting that grief is linear, can be worked through in stages or that it always manifests in these five ways. I am, however, acknowledging that the five stages of grief are firmly in popular culture and while they may feel like familiar markers for many people, they didn’t for me.
Language matters
I have found the language of the five stages of grief inaccessible, maybe even alienating in my experience of grief so far. I am sure that others have felt this and over time, I’ve searched for words that feel gentler and more compassionate. Words that I can relate to and can find in my own heart and mind.
This is the language that’s helped me recognise myself and the journey I was on:
Numbness: instead of denial. Numbness is normal, life feels unreal and your brain is protecting you from the enormity of the situation, you can’t feel it all at once. This is a time for telling your story to help you process, repeating the story, being witnessed and heard is important
Turbulence: instead of anger. Turbulence feels like a surge of emotions, injustice, and disruption. It will ebb and flow but you might always experience some turbulence around your grief. Naming it and finding a safe way to release it can be helpful…hit a pillow perhaps or go for a walk/run.
Yearning: instead of bargaining. Yearning is often accompanied by ‘if only’ and ‘what if’ . The heart is reaching for what was and a searching for relief from the pain of our loss. Being clear about what sits in your circle of control can relieve the feelings of guilt that often accompany yearning.
Ache: instead of depression. Sitting with the heaviness of grief which feels like an ache in your heart. This new framing is inclusive of the fact that depression due to grief responds to support in time.
Integration: instead of acceptance. I found this one particularly hard because acceptance is not something I could easily find. I could however find a way to live along side the loss and by doing so honour Neil’s life and legacy.
I am probably not alone in being drawn to analogies of the heart when thinking about grief, and rather than seeing the five stages as road markers, I see them as movements of my heart. They may crash into one another, return, or arrive without warning. Maybe this speaks to you too.
When the heart holds its breath. When the heart roars. When the heart reaches back. When the heart weighs heavy. When the heart rises again
Glimmers of Hope
I understand how hard it can be to find a way forward alongside grief. If you have experienced a loss in the last few months or years and are feeling stuck, overwhelmed, misunderstood, or unsure how to move forward, I’d love for you to join me in Glimmers of Hope.
Glimmers of Hope is my new 4-week email series created to gently support you in your grief, wherever you find yourself on the journey.
Across four weeks, you’ll receive emails that invite you to create space for your grief, give voice to what you’re carrying, find anchors to steady you and begin to step forward with grief alongside you.
This short series is designed with care, offering practical tools you can use right away, while also leaving space for them to grow and change with you over time. You can move through at your own pace, with a sense of companionship with my voice notes, reflections and gentle guidance.
I am here to help. Send me a message if you want to talk.
With warmth
Karen
p.s. Last month’s edition of Letters for the Heart, I offered some practical advice for those moments when you feel left behind by life.
Reset and Rise - the home of solution-focused grief support.



I like the shift in language, somehow I can 'feel' your words more than the origianla 5 stages. And interesting to know the origin of them too.