Like you’re already feeling the weight of something that hasn’t even happened? That’s anticipatory grief. It can sneak up on us, feeling like an albatross around our necks, dragging us down into a spiral of worry and fear.
This flavor of grief isn’t always about losing someone or something, though it can be. Sometimes it’s dread about change or uncertainty on the horizon, the kind of stuff that wakes you up in the night and won’t let you go back to sleep. It’s like your heart and mind are practicing for the pain before it’s even arrived.
The thing is, this fear of what might happen can tint everything we see, seeping into our daily lives and coloring even the simplest, most joyful moments with dread. Suddenly, we’re not really here anymore, not fully living, just waiting for that future hurt.
When we notice this state, when we’re aware of it, now we have a chance to drop it, at least for a breath. Because right here, in this exact moment, that terrible thing we’re bracing for isn’t actually happening. It’s not HERE. Right now, in this very moment, you’re safe. You’re breathing. Your body knows how to be here, now. You can change the channel.
So take that moment. Pause and notice the way the breath comes in and goes out. Feel your feet on the floor, your butt in the chair, clouds in the sky. It’s okay to feel the fear, but you don’t have to let it drive the bus.
The anticipation of loss can actually feel worse than the loss itself. That’s a hard truth, but it’s one that can set us free, even for a little while. When we let ourselves come back to now, we get a glimpse of what it’s like to live without that heavy weight on our shoulders all the time.
Maybe it’s just a moment of relief, a crack of light in the darkness of worry. Maybe it’s enough to remind you that right now, you’re okay. And in this breath, that’s all you need. You really can meet this moment with kindness and curiosity, because that’s where life actually IS.
YES! This feeling is encoded into my dna.