Going for a Walk
In the beginning stages of grief, one of the hardest things, aside from losing the one you love, was waking up the next morning without that person. Tomorrow can be one of the scariest moments in your mind. You begin to have thoughts like what will tomorrow look like, and the day after that, and the next day.
I want to encourage you to take one day at a time. I know we have heard that many times in our lifetime, but this is one of those moments when it is truly important to try. The thought of planning your entire future without the person you love can feel overwhelming and is not healthy for your mind. Right now, it is important to guard your heart, protect it, and shield it from additional worries.
This is why I chose to go for a walk.
Walking helped me in ways I did not expect. It gave me a place to release heavy emotions without having to explain them. It also gave my mind something gentle to focus on when my thoughts became too loud. Instead of sitting in stillness with overwhelming grief, I was able to move my body and breathe through each step.
I also walked with someone close to me. I would let a friend talk to me as we walked. This allowed someone who wanted to help me in my grief to share a moment with me in a simple, meaningful way. The people left behind often want to help you through your grief, but they do not always know how. Walking with them gives them comfort in knowing they are supporting you, helping you get moving again, and gently encouraging you to continue forward in your life. It becomes a special moment for both of you, where connection and healing can exist at the same time.
During my walks, I began to notice cardinals. I started counting them as a way to keep my mind engaged and grounded in the present moment. It became a simple but meaningful practice that helped redirect my thoughts when they started to spiral. Seeing a cardinal felt like a small reminder of hope and counting them gave my mind something peaceful to focus on instead of pain.
Walking did not take my grief away, but it helped me carry it in a healthier way. It became a space where I could process, breathe, and slowly find moments of calm in the middle of deep sorrow.
