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RAIN Meditation for Grief

September 18, 2020

The visceral experience of grief within one’s body, mind, and soul has often been compared to weather phenomena: a tidal wave, a raging storm, or even a gentle breeze. 

Sometimes grief appears suddenly, without warning, seemingly out of nowhere. Other times grief can be seen from a distance, anticipated with an arising feeling of unease, restlessness, or discontentment. Sometimes the power of grief overtakes us, knocks us over, leaves us breathless with fear and despair. Other times it moves softly through our heart, leaving us full of bittersweet gratitude for the past and wistfulness for the loss of the future.

RAIN Meditation for Grief

Whether grief feels overwhelmingly painful or gently melancholic, it presents an opportunity to the griever to practice a very special meditation called RAIN. 

RAIN, an acronym that stands for Recognize, Allow, Investigate, and Nurture, is a mindfulness tool developed by psychologist and meditation teacher Tara Brach, of Washington, D.C. 

Practicing RAIN may help those experiencing grief find a little detachment. It may help those in pain find a little self-compassion. It may help those gripped by regret for the past or longing for the future find a little presence.

R – Recognize

The first step of RAIN is to recognize what is happening within me now. What thoughts, emotions, behaviors, or physical sensations are beginning to arise within me? Is my mind racing with a story? Do I feel overwhelmed by the unfairness of my situation? Do I feel numb, irritable, enraged, or despairing? Am I overworking, drinking, or eating to numb out? Practice recognizing what’s going inside by mentally noting, whispering out loud, or writing a few words on a piece of paper. Name it: … feel hopeless… want to escape… confused… want to cry. Simply note what is coming up – without judgement, without labeling anything “good” or “bad.”

A – Allow

The second step of RAIN is to allow the experience to be there. I say “yes” or “it’s OK” to this moment, however uncomfortable. I accept that there is a disturbance within me. I surrender all resistance. The act of allowing may create even a tiny bit of space between me and the storm of grief moving through me. Breathe. Repeat “I can allow this” each time you exhale.

I – Investigate

Now, I deepen my recognition of what’s happening by bringing my awareness more fully into the physical experience of grief. I move my attention from inside my mind to inside my body. What do I feel, somatically? I investigate deeper by becoming curious about what is really happening within me now. Is my throat choked? My heart pounding? Is there pain, numbness, pressure, fluttering, tightness, or aching? These physical sensations are an inner embodiment of my emotions. see *Note for further explanation

N – Nurture

The last step of RAIN is to nurture myself through the experience. Can I bring loving kindness to my experience of grief? Can I wrap my pain with warm arms of comfort, courage, and compassion? Can I detach from and witness the sensations without judgement as they pass through me? Can I relax and be gentle with myself as I undergo this process?

After the RAIN 

There’s often a feeling of freshness after a rain. The blacktop smells smoky. The air feels dewy. The breeze is new. The sun shines down and invisibly lifts the last traces of water from the earth. The memory of the dark storm may still be there, visible above but moving slowly onward. 

The storms of grief moving through us can leave us feeling shaken, tired, and drained. Yet, grief is also a purification, a burning away of the hardness in our hearts. Grief can be a spiritual cleansing that, if we can relax through it, can open our hearts to love, strength, and being. As Rumi says, “The wound is the place where the light enters you.”

* Note: Why not investigate mentally, intellectually, or psychologically? Why not dive deep into the “why” of my experience rather than the “what” ? The answer, according to Tara Brach, is twofold:

    1. Thoughts are often a distorted version of the truth. Storytelling, analyzing, and meaning-making are incredibly complex mental exercises that are influenced by myriad factors and are not reliable reflections of what’s really going on. An addict’s experience of denial is an example of how the mind can trick the host. As Eckhart Tolle says, “if there’s a conflict between an emotion (which lives in the body) and a thought, the thought will be the lie.”
    2. Thoughts rarely help us find peace; conversely, mental gymnastics can be very irritating to the psyche. They take us out of the present moment and pull us into the past or future. The book Sacred Journey of the Peaceful Warrior , by Dan Millman, depicts a scene in which the protagonist stands in a small circle of presence, with the future and past surrounding him, threatening him as dangerous forms of tigers and lions. The past can drag us down with the heaviness of depression; the future can jolt us into the jitteriness of anxiety. The body is a better portal into the present moment than the mind.

The investigate step of RAIN is not a mental analysis, nor is it an opportunity to gather psychological information. It’s not about finding the childhood roots or causes and effects. It’s not an exploration of my personality, my history, or my beliefs. Feeling my grief as pure energetic emotion, and locating it in my body, is the key to this practice. 

March 27, 2025
More Than One Loss Grief is often thought of as the pain we feel after losing a loved one. But grief isn’t just about the person who died —it’s also about everything that went with them. The routines you shared, the roles you played, the future you imagined, and even the relationships that shift in the aftermath. These are known as secondary losses, and they can be just as difficult as the primary loss itself. Secondary losses are often not antcipated. You might expect to grieve your loved one, but you may not anticipate the deep loneliness that comes from losing the small daily interactions you had with them. You might feel the pain of losing not just a spouse, parent, or friend, but also the identity that came with being their partner, caregiver, or confidant. These hidden losses can make grief feel even heavier, and understanding them can help you navigate this challenging time. What Are Secondary Losses? Grief touches every part of life, which means secondary losses can take many forms. Some of the most common include: · Loss of roles: If you were a caregiver, a partner, or a child who looked to a parent for guidance, that role is now different—or gone entirely. Adjusting to life without that identity can feel disorienting and painful. · Loss of routines: Grief often disrupts the everyday patterns of life. The morning coffee you always shared, the Sunday phone calls, the daily check-ins—small but meaningful aspect of our lives. · Loss of relationships: Some friendships and family connections change after a loss. People may not know how to support you, or they may distance themselves. Others may expect you to grieve on their timeline, making it harder to maintain those relationships. · Loss of security: This could be financial, especially if the person who died contributed to household income. It could also be emotional—the feeling that you had a safe and predictable life before this loss. · Loss of future plans: Every loss changes the future. Dreams you shared, trips you planned, milestones you expected to celebrate together—these losses can hit unexpectedly, sometimes long after the initial grief has subsided. The Emotional Impact of Secondary Losses Secondary losses can feel like waves that keep coming, even when you think you’ve found solid ground. Because they are not always acknowledged by others, they can feel isolating. But just like the primary loss, they deserve space and recognition. Navigating Secondary Losses: Practical Advice · Name and validate the losses. It may help to make a list of the secondary losses you’re experiencing. Acknowledging them can bring clarity and help you acknowledge the many losses you have. · Create new routines and roles. While the old ones may never be replaced, finding small ways to establish new patterns can bring a sense of stability. This could be as simple as a new morning ritual or a different way of honoring your loved one’s memory. · Seek out supportive relationships. Some connections may change, but new ones can also emerge. Finding people who understand grief—whether through support groups, therapy, or trusted friends—can help ease the loneliness. · Give yourself permission to grieve these losses. Just because they aren’t always talked about doesn’t mean they aren’t real. Allow yourself to mourn what has changed, just as you mourn the person you lost. · Consider professional support. If secondary losses feel overwhelming or make it difficult to function, a grief counselor can help you process them and find ways to cope. Grief Is Layered, But Healing Is Possible Grief is never just about one loss. It’s about all the pieces of life that shift and change in the wake of that loss. If you find yourself grieving things beyond the person who died, know that you are not alone. Be patient with yourself as you navigate these changes, and remember that support is available when you need it.
July 20, 2024
Written by our in-house Grief Counselor, Amanda Nelsen.
March 31, 2021
In the last few paragraphs of Greg McKeown’s book, Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less , the author tells a heartbreaking story of a man whose three-year-old daughter has died. The father wished to put together a slideshow of her little life to play at her funeral. He had documented on his camera every outing he’d ever taken with his daughter, and he had hours of footage. But as he scrolled through the thousands of photos and videos, he realized, with growing alarm, that nearly all the images he had captured were of the sights, views, meals, and landmarks of their trips. He had practically no close-up images of his daughter. He had failed to recognize what was essential in his life until she was gone.
November 17, 2020
Dear Ted,
October 23, 2020
Dear Ted,
October 19, 2020
Gained in Translation
October 2, 2020
The Guest House This being human is a guest house.Every morning a new arrival.A joy, a depression, a meanness,some momentary awareness comesas an unexpected visitor.Welcome and entertain them all!Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,who violently sweep your houseempty of its furniture,still, treat each guest honorably.He may be clearing you outfor some new delight.The dark thought, the shame, the malice.meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.Be grateful for whatever comes.because each has been sentas a guide from beyond.— Jellaludin Rumi, translated into English by Coleman Barks
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