Fragile. Grief is feeling fragile in places you hope to keep sealed and intact. 
Like trying to hold on to eggs while riding a roller coaster. Journal Prompt: I feel fragile…

Guilt. Grief is a magnet for guilt. You feel guilt that you did too little. Guilt that you did too much. Guilt that you survived. Guilt about your feelings, missed opportunities, and mistakes. When these feelings morph to a cemented state of being it chains you to the past and prevents forward movement. Journal Prompt: I feel guilt about…

Threatened. Grief pummels emotional stability. Like yoga on a paddle board, the emotional self wobbles through normalcy in the midst of grief. Already uneasy, emotional collapse threatens in harsh comments, the mundane, in mistakes and disappointments, and unnecessary commercials. It's no wonder you keep a distance from your emotions. Why wouldn't you? Journal Prompt: I feel threatened by...

Senses. Grief is experienced through your senses–your hearing, sight, smell, taste, and touch. A familiar song. Unexpected fluorescent lights. The smell of Autumn. Bites of cheesecake. The texture of a blanket. What you smell, see, taste, hear, and touch show up in your memory of what has been lost. Use your senses to feel your way through grief. Journal Prompts: My grief sounds like... My grief looks like... My grief smells like... My grief tastes like... My grief feels like...

Without. Bobbing in feelings of disconnection and isolation, grieving is learning to live without. It's learning to live without people you intended to live with. It's watching from the outside the experiences you hoped for. It's missing milestones you expected to meet. Journal Prompt: I am learning to live without...