Pause. Reset. Be.
monthly calming nature videos, soothing meditations, nervous system support
Hey Y’all,
Before we begin, remember this is yours to decide.
In many healing spaces, we’re told what to do.
But that takes away the very power we’re trying to reclaim.
What worked for me may not work for you.
Even for me, healing shifts. Nothing stays the same.
Everybody holds experience differently.
Every nervous system unwinds in its rhythm.
So take what serves you, leave what doesn’t.
And stay curious:
Where is this feeling coming from?
How is my body responding?
What do I need?
If you’re in a safe enough place to settle,
the tools below are here, not because you should, but because you can choose to.
Here’s to moving at your own pace, listening to your body, and choosing what works for you. 🖤
Buy Me A Coffee ☕
Brutally Beautiful is a reader-supported space. It takes time, energy, and intention to create and share what lives here.
If this piece moved you, supported you, or offered something of value, but you’re not ready for a monthly subscription, you can always buy me a coffee as a way to say thanks.
Your support, in any form, truly helps keep this work going.
Pause. Reset. Be.
Take a breath.
Stop~stop.
Reconnect to you.
Hit reset, tune in, and get curious.
Just be.
No judgment, no rush.
Life’s chaos is not going anywhere.
This minute? It’s yours.
Own it.
Repeat as often as your soul asks. (FYI I needed this today;-)
Soul-Care
Pause. Feel. Let It Move You.
a somatic invitation for grief + sorrow
In my life—and in the lives of so many friends and loved ones right now—grief feels like a shared thread. Quiet, heavy, constant.
Grief is a human condition. A universal experience. As I’ve said before, it’s a shapeshifter. It doesn’t always look the same, and it doesn’t always arrive when we expect it. Sometimes it’s obvious. Sometimes it sneaks in through joy, or dreams, or random melancholy on an otherwise beautiful day.
For me, learning to live with grief, to dance with it, is a skill. And a choice. Not how I grieve—but how I choose to be in relationship with grief.
None of it is right or wrong. There’s no correct pace, no gold star for how it looks.
But I’ve found that naming the kind of grief you’re carrying can be a soft beginning. It can help you see how it’s showing up. Where it might be living in your body. What kind of care it’s asking for.
This is an invitation:
To notice your grief
To name it, if that feels helpful
To ask yourself how it feels in your body today
To consider what might soften it—even just a little
You don’t have to do all of this. You don’t have to do any of it. But if it feels true for you, I’ve laid a few pathways below.
For Me, About Grief + What Helps
I’ve lived with many kinds of grief—some loud and sharp, some quiet and woven into the background of my everyday life. Not all of it is explainable. Not all of it is visible. But I’ve come to see it less as something to “get over,” and more as something I’m learning to live with.
For me, certain things have helped hold that grief when words can’t:
Time in nature
Walking or movement
Writing, painting, or just letting something move through me creatively
Letting myself feel what I feel—without fixing it
Not because they make it go away.
But because they give it shape.
Because they let it move.
This relationship with grief doesn’t always have to be gloomy or heavy.
It’s okay if it is. But it’s also okay if it brings up joy. Or laughter. Or gratitude.
There is beauty in remembrance.
There is light in honoring what mattered.
There is tenderness in knowing how deeply we’ve loved.
Explore what works for you.
There’s no right way to do this.
Just your way. Just your rhythm.
And that’s more than enough.
Types of Grief (and how they might show up)
Grief doesn’t just live in the mind. It lives in the body. It impacts our nervous system by placing us in prolonged states of stress or shutdown. Whether we’re stuck in sympathetic activation (fight or flight) or dorsal vagal collapse (freeze, numbness), the body holds on to grief until it feels safe enough to release.
Below are common grief types, how they may manifest, and what experts recommend for tending to them:
Anticipatory Grief
What it is:
Grief experienced in advance of an expected loss. Common in caregiving, terminal illness, progressive conditions, or even large transitions (e.g., knowing a divorce or move is coming). It’s grief that begins before the loss arrives.
How it may show up:
Nervous system stays in chronic alert → high sympathetic activation
Sleep issues (especially waking early or unrested)
Muscle tension, jaw clenching
Feelings of dread, anxiety, or guilt for “grieving too soon”
Emotional whiplash between hope and sorrow
Trouble focusing, irritability
What helps:
Journaling fears and hopes side by side
Titrated presence (allowing yourself small doses of reflection)
Grounding practices: legs up the wall, touch-based self-holding
Talking it through with someone outside the immediate circle
Ambiguous Grief
What it is:
Grief with no clear resolution—when someone is still alive but not emotionally present (e.g., dementia, addiction, estrangement), or when a situation never gave full closure (e.g., missing persons, ghosting, open adoptions).
How it may show up:
Cognitive dissonance: “I don’t know how to feel”
Confusion or feeling like your emotions don’t make sense
Somatic disconnection (numbness, loss of appetite)
Cycles of hope and despair → nervous system ping-pongs between fight and freeze
Shame about struggling with someone who’s “still here”
What helps:
Naming it as grief (this alone is powerful)
Boundary work + somatic safety cues (rocking, weighted touch)
Therapy to support duality (holding both presence and absence)
Creating symbolic endings or private rituals
Disenfranchised Grief
What it is:
Grief that isn’t socially acknowledged, accepted, or validated. This can include grief over a pet, abortion, miscarriage, ex-partner, estrangement, loss of a dream, or mental illness.
How it may show up:
Suppressed sadness
Feelings of invisibility or “I shouldn’t be this upset”
Nervous system tension → stuckness in the freeze state
Digestive issues, headaches, lack of emotional support
Self-doubt and perfectionism as coping
What helps:
Storytelling, even privately
Grief art / poetry / music
Creating a container (e.g., a journal, a photo, a letter never sent)
One trusted witness who won’t minimize your experience
Collective Grief
What it is:
Grief felt across groups or society, often in response to shared tragedies, disasters, systemic oppression, or global crisis (e.g., pandemic, violence, climate collapse).
How it may show up:
Vicarious trauma symptoms
Overconsumption (doomscrolling, numbing, overworking)
Nervous system burnout → hypo or hyperarousal
Despair or disconnection from purpose
Compounded stress (especially for those with marginalized identities)
What helps:
Grounding in nature + movement-based rituals
Taking aligned, small actions (regaining agency)
Grieving communally (circles, online groups, collective expression)
Limiting stimulus input + building in joy/micro-resilience
Chronic Grief (Living Loss)
What it is:
Persistent, recurring grief—often tied to long-term illness, disability, or a major change that doesn’t fully resolve (e.g., caring for someone who won’t recover, your own progressive condition).
How it may show up:
Resigned sadness or emotional flattening
Autonomic nervous system fatigue → sleep issues, immune suppression
Grief anniversaries, medical trauma, slow-burning sadness
Difficulty planning or imagining the future
Feeling forgotten or left behind
What helps:
Naming the “ongoingness” of the grief (living with vs moving through)
Slow pacing + radical rest
Nervous system restoration practices (e.g., legs up the wall, humming, warm baths)
Gentle support groups, especially illness/disability-informed
Secondary Loss Grief
What it is:
The cascading losses that come after the main one. For example: you lose a parent, and you also lose your identity as a daughter, your childhood home, family gatherings, etc. Common in caregiving, trauma, or major life transitions.
How it may show up:
Unexpected waves of grief for “small” things
Nervous system collapse → fatigue, disorientation, memory fog
Grief overload or emotional numbness
Loss of confidence, identity, or roles
What helps:
Naming each secondary loss clearly (writing them out)
Rebuilding structure slowly—tiny rituals, new rhythms
Co-regulation with trusted others
Letting go of pressure to “bounce back”
Identity & Self Grief
What it is:
Grieving the version of yourself that no longer exists—after trauma, diagnosis, major caregiving season, life chapter closing, or aging.
How it may show up:
Body disconnection or shame
Refusing photos, mirrors, or self-care
Freeze response in the nervous system
Inner narrative of “I don’t recognize myself”
Longing for who you were “before”
What helps:
Mirror work + affirming self-touch
Writing letters to your past self / inner child
Claiming new identities through language, style, or ritual
Movement that honors your current body (not “old” goals)
Somatic Healing
*as always take what speaks to you-leave the rest
These somatic practices are simply invitations—try what feels supportive, skip what doesn’t. There’s no right or wrong way to be with your body in grief.
Somatic Invitations for Grief
Grief Hand Hold When I feel shaky, untethered, or tender, this helps me stay with myself.
Place one hand on your heart. The other on your belly. Let them be a quiet weight. Just enough to remind your system: I’m here.
You don’t have to change anything. Just breathe. Feel your chest rise, your belly fall.
If you’d like, whisper: “You don’t have to hold this alone.”
Sound It Out Grief carries sound. And when we silence it, it tends to get stuck.
Try this: hum, sigh, moan, whisper. Let something audible move through you.
If you’re holding rage or pressure, scream into a pillow. Yell in the car. Roar into the wind. Let your throat speak what your mind can’t name. (honestly screaming fuck as loud as I can is still one of my favorites;-)
No need to make it beautiful. Just let it be real.
Even 10 seconds of sound can begin to shift your nervous system—vibrating the vagus nerve and allowing held emotion to move.
Grief Rocking This one’s primal. Soothing. Familiar. I use it when I don’t have words.
Sit on the floor, in a chair, or anywhere you feel supported. Start to rock slowly side to side. Small, gentle, rhythmic.
Let your body find its own tempo. This mimics the regulation we first knew in the womb, or in a caregiver’s arms.
You don’t need a reason. Just let yourself sway.
Grounded Letting Go (Mini Ritual) Ritual helps me mark the unmarkable. When something ends and I don’t know what to do with it, I do this.
Light a candle. Write down what you’ve lost. A name. A dream. A version of you.
Sit with it. Read it aloud. Let your breath stay slow. When you’re ready, say: “You mattered. I carry you with me.”
No need to burn it or bury it (unless you want to). Just let this be a way to say: I see what’s gone. I’m still here.
Listen to a Sad Song Sometimes the only thing that helps me feel is music that understands.
Pick a song that cracks your heart open. Put it on. Let yourself feel. Cry. Sing. Close your eyes and breathe.
Research shows that sad music can activate the brain’s emotional processing centers, allowing repressed feelings to safely surface.
This is not indulgent. This is somatic release. Let it move through you.
(Optional: Legs Up the Wall) Still one of my favorite reset tools.
Lie down near a wall or couch. Swing your legs up so they rest vertically. Arms soft at your sides or over your heart.
Stay for 3–5 minutes. No goal. Just breath and gravity.
This signals your body: it’s okay to settle now.
Journal Prompts to Sit With Grief
What am I grieving that I haven’t named yet?
What part of me is shifting with this loss?
Where does my grief live in my body today?
What would it feel like to not rush this? what would it feel like to not ignore this now?
Who (or what) do I want to honor right now?
You are allowed to feel it all. You are allowed to be messy, nonlinear, undone. Grief is proof of your capacity to love. And your body already knows how to carry this.
🖤
Failed to render LaTeX expression — no expression found
© Heather Zoccali 2025
Buy Me A Coffee ☕
Brutally Beautiful is a reader-supported newsletter.
If you enjoy this article or feel you gained some value but are not ready to commit to a monthly paid subscription, you can buy me a coffee!
However, I understand that times are tight, so if a paid subscription isn’t an option, consider sharing BB with someone who might love it or even gifting a subscription to someone you know.
Thank you for being here, sharing, and making this work possible.
lots of love,
hz
Ideas about grief are so clear, powerful, and very helpful. Thank you for you brutally beautiful work!