Hello There, Grief...

Hande Walker, MA, LLP

I feel like I am getting to know a different aspect of my grief each day. Grief for me is like one of those people that you are intimidated by. You think you know everything about them, but then they do something unexpected and completely take you by surprise. The kind of person that is unpredictable but not in a bad or unhealthy, manipulative way. The kind of person that cannot categorize their personality type in a number, because they are more complex than that. The kind of person from whom you feel there is so much to learn, even though you’ve known them forever. It never gets boring, but it’s a bit exhausting because sometimes you just want to be around simplicity, predictability, and even boring, as you do not always feel up for an

adventure. So anyway, imagine that person, but it’s not a person - it’s an emotion instead. That is how I experience my grief!


Recently, I have realized that my grief makes me want to take action. It gives me the “sense of urgency” to act on a thought or an idea. The action step is not always in line with my values, what would be in my best interest, or what would benefit my relationships. I sometimes find myself wanting to provide a manual for my clients who are going through grief. To be able to

tell them when their grief is going to end or be more manageable. Why do I want a manual?


This is a question I battle with a lot in my line of work. Because most things are so abstract, I crave a manualized approach to tell me what to say or what to do. When it comes to grief especially, I also think I need the manual to have some sense of certainty and familiarity, so the process of grieving does not get more overwhelming than it already is.


Grief feels distinct from other emotions in this way, as it has a quality that never ceases to baffle me. Like, you do not know when it’s going to hit you, even if you identify and go through every single possible scenario you can imagine to know what to do and how to take care of yourself when you’re reminded of your loss. It is like the universe finds a clever or sneaky way to surprise you when you expect it the least.


Let’s talk about anxiety, for example. Anxiety can be sneaky too and manifest in subtle ways sometimes. Not the intense physical symptoms that feel like you are going to have a heart attack and die, but when you experience rumination, can’t stop overthinking something, when you are being short with your partner or feel irritated and agitated. That is easier to chalk up to

anxiety for me. For some reason, it is easy for me to understand and conceptualize anxiety. To understand the impact of anxiety on relationships, for instance, is easier to grasp and come to terms with. If I am anxious and easily annoyed, I will relate to others in a way that will reflect the ‘not so pleasant state of my mind/being.’


When it comes to grief though, it feels as if all of a sudden, I do not know how to be a human and do humanly things. When I am grieving, I do not always understand how I feel physically or regard the sensations in my body - or even the energy around me - as a reflection of my grief. For some reason, it is very hard to make that mind-body connection for me in the context of grief.It is also hard to put this into words, as I feel like I am trying to describe something so intangible. It’s as if you have to experience it to know and to understand.


I recently realized that “the urge to do something and fix it” comes from a place of hurt, sadness, and powerlessness attached to the grief related to a loss I experienced a few years ago. Not wanting to come to terms with something that is so unfixable, so irreversible. Not wanting to accept that there is no chance to make it better anymore. It is over, and I have to accept that I must move on.Yuck! Even writing this in a very clear and conclusive way right now evokes uncomfortable feelings and sensations in my body. Hello there, grief! I see and recognize you now!


Finally, not suppressing or ignoring the presence of my grief is helping me not make impulsive decisions or take actions when there is no action to take. For example, calling that person that my brain somehow convinced me was such a good idea, even supporting its argument with persuasive reasons that provided a sudden (false) sense of relief. I felt like I was finally on to something. Finally, I found a way to reverse the situation and make everything go back to what it was before. I am excited, hopeful, and it feels too good to be true. Then reality sets in. After engaging in some reflection and feeling more grounded in the painful reality, I realized my “protective part” was trying so hard to not let me feel the pain of loss and grief.


One time, my protective part worked so skillfully that I even convinced my therapist that I was making the right decision with the action I was planning on taking. My therapist even told me jokingly that I should be a lawyer. Apparently I was so persuasive. I really want to give credit to my protective part for working so hard to keep me safe. I initially was so upset and embarrassed about that protective part that ran the show that day, for going to such lengths to prove her point right, not caring about the consequences of her almost-impulsive actions. Then, I realized it was that protective part that would not let me develop a relationship with my grief - so much so that I felt numb when my body was screaming for help, begging to be seen.


With the help of therapy, I was able to understand the incredibly hard work my protective part was taking on so that I did not feel the pain of loss. Only then did I start to have compassion for this amazing, courageous, kind, younger part of me. I reassured her that despite the pain, I was glad to be in touch with my grief. Because feeling disconnected from the pain also meant I was disconnected from the other positive things that were going on in my life. I was just an observer of myself - of my life - like watching myself in a movie as an audience member, not knowing I am the main actor and I can change the course of things. How exciting and empowering! But also scary and risky. That was when I realized I’d rather live in reality and learn ways to manage my grief (just like I did with anxiety) than live in a fantasy world, hoping and wishing that someday my brain will find a way to get back what I have lost.


Witnessing so many of my clients who are in different phases of their grief journey and their relentless attempts at cognitive bypassing made me realize how important it is to find manageable ways to allow grief to exist. Simply acknowledging the presence of grief and being honest with myself about the intensity of the pain helped me relate to my grief in a different way. It did not become this scary thing or a danger zone I never wanted to go near. Instead, I realized I had to learn to honor its existence and adaptive function in my life. Easier said than done- I know. However, coming to this realization gradually brought me an unexpected sense of relief - knowing I do not have to fear grief. Because when you add fear to the mix, it’s as if the thing you are avoiding intensifies by multitudes.


I think what helped me a lot was curiosity and openness to this new entity that was coming my way. Also, resourcing myself - expanding my capacity to handle big emotions (positive and negative) - was necessary if I was going to take an honest look at my loss. It required a lot of courage that I didn’t have at the time - not realizing courage was something I could cultivate when I opened up more space for the unknown and embraced the fear. And embracing the fear didn’t look “cute,” like what you see in the movies, when somebody finally confronts and overcomes their fear.


Inevitably, I will experience another loss in life, but having a stronger relationship with grief itself - knowing more aspects of grief and having an open and curious attitude towards it - means grief finally does not feel like such a strange territory, like the person I was describing in the beginning. It also does not take control of my life or does not dictate my decisions. I, at least, have more neutrality towards it, rather than completely denying its presence. I can’t say that I am excited to interact with it at all times or that I look forward to its unannounced arrival. However, I am interested in listening and hearing what it has to tell me. At the very least, I do not find myself fantasizing about a manual to help me interact with my grief anymore (I never read them anyway). And I am happy with that progress.


Hande Walker, MA, LLP is a therapist at Restore Therapy Collective. In her free time Hande enjoys long walks or a hike in the nature. Besides spending time with friends and family, Hande loves reading-especially psychological thriller books. To schedule an appointment with Hande, please send a secure message through our contact form.

Restore Therapy Collective

Stress Can Make You Healthier

By Jason Anderson, LMSW • September 18, 2026
Ok, sort of true. Actually, what we believe about stress can make us healthier, and happier. When I was teaching as an adjunct professor at GVSU, I consistently showed one Ted Talk that I thought all college students, especially future social workers, needed to watch. It is entitled “How to Make Stress Your Friend” (2013), given by health psychologist Kelly McGonigal, PhD, from Stanford University (video posted below). In this talk, Dr. McGonigal highlights the devastating effects stress can have on our bodies, especially our cardiovascular health. When we are experiencing chronic or acute moments of stress, our central nervous system is activated and adrenaline is released, initiating the well-known “fight or flight” response. This response can have negative consequences on our heart health, as well as our mood (anxiety and fear), and our brain’s ability to problem solve or think clearly. However, because our bodies are so wonderful, we also have a natural protective hormone that helps us stay relaxed in stress, known as oxytocin. Oxytocin counters the adrenaline response to create a desire for social support, connection, and comfort; potentially leading to positive effects of social bonding, stress regulation and improved mental health ( Olff et al., 2013 ). Once again, these positive effects are true for those who interpret, or believe, the physical cues of stress to be safe and helpful. As a practitioner of cognitive behavioral therapy, this concept rings true for me. How we frame events in our thoughts, including our body’s physiological responses, leads directly to corresponding emotions and behaviors. Therefore, stress has the potential to cause us anxiety, sickness, fear, obsessive worry, muscle tension and so on. It also offers the opportunity, if we become skilled at cognitive reframing, to lead us into deeper friendships, love, trust, connection, meaning, purpose, joy and even courage! So how do we take the oxytocin invitation, and reduce the impact of the adrenaline trap? To paraphrase Robert Frost, here is where we take the path less traveled, and it will make all the difference. In my experience as a therapist, the oxytocin path is the one less traveled. While it will likely take some significant cognitive reframing to reorient our interpretive thoughts, and often a trained therapist to guide us through some sections, here are three trail markers I’ve noticed along the way. Friendship People typically respond to stress in one of two ways: isolate or connect. The path less traveled here seems to be connection. So many of us are conditioned to lean into self-reliance, a strong work ethic, and a good smile to bear the impact of stressful challenges alone. This isolation can be very painful, and loneliness can exacerbate both depression and anxiety. We can learn, however, that the healthier and more effective response is to reach out and connect, to ask for help, and to enhance the protective benefits of oxytocin through deep, trusting relationships. Some of the best advice you can give a friend, or yourself, is that you don’t have to do it alone. Dr Carl Rogers, one of my all-time favorite therapists, established three core characteristics of relationships that are effective at creating connection and personal growth; genuineness, unconditional acceptance, and empathy (understanding). If you have a friend like this, ask them for a big hug and an hour to chat the next time you’re about to crash out! If you need more help, reach out to a therapist who is committed to connecting with clients by being genuine, accepting, and understanding. Faith In this context, I bring up faith to mean a connection to something larger than yourself. While many have specific religious interpretations and community practices around the word faith, I use it here in its broadest sense. Faith as in a trust, confidence, or allegiance to something. It’s what gives us meaning and purpose in life. We can have faith in a project, faith in an ideal or virtue, faith in a process or even our own capabilities. When stress hits hard, faith provides a bird’s eye view from which to look down on the stress and see it as temporary, or smaller than it feels in the moment. To have faith, to be connected, to the virtues, beliefs, or goals that we believe in most can function like a compass in a storm, and keep us moving in the direction we have chosen. Instead of suffering in fear and doubt, it is time to lean on our beliefs and commit ourselves to the purpose and goals we have found in our life. Dr. McGonigal sees this as courage, interpreting the stress response as preparing our mind and body for action. There is nothing better to do with courage than press on towards the goals, beliefs, or values we have the most faith in. So, keep testing, exploring, and clarifying your faith. What do you really believe in? Forests Forest therapy is a growing field, accumulating scientific evidence for the stress relieving benefits many of us have felt throughout our life. The full rationale and protocol of sylvotherapy (forest therapy) is beyond the scope of this blog, however, I want to provide a sample that may encourage and inspire the reader to begin an immersive journey into reconnecting with nature as a positive stress response. Throughout my life I have instinctively sought out wild places; waterfalls, mountains trails, deep forests, deserted ocean beaches. These places just made me feel good…happier, peaceful, less stressed. It turns out these places are full of higher oxygen concentrations, negative ions created by moving water and growing plants, helpful soil bacteria, vibrant natural colors and textures, and often free from noise, light, and air pollution. I realized at one point that I had subconsciously created a protocol in which every 6 weeks I would seek an immersive weekend in nature as my stress management self-care routine. Stress was driving me “into the forest” where I was receiving physical and mental health benefits! Now, to be fair, I wasn’t just walking in the woods. I was applying therapeutic techniques and skills such as mindfulness, meditation, cognitive refocusing, and using all senses to connect with my natural surroundings. I have since taken up a course of study in forest therapy in order to become a certified guide for others to find the same health benefits that I find so sacred. A walk in the woods is still valuable (do it for at least 30 minutes) but there is a depth of mental health benefits from forest therapy that you can find on your own, or with a trained guide. Stress is harmful, but it is not inevitable. As Dr. McGonigal (2013) states, How you think and how you act can transform your experience of stress. When you choose to view your stress response as helpful, you create the biology of courage. Stress gives us access to our hearts. The compassionate heart that finds joy and meaning in connecting with others, and your pounding physical heart working hard to give you strength and energy! If you’re in a place of chronic stress, or have been hit hard by a stressful event, take a few minutes to watch my favorite Ted Talk, and reach out to a friend or a professional who can help you find the path less traveled, the oxytocin invitation to social bonding, courage, and even a happier mood! Jason Anderson, LMSW is a therapist at Restore Therapy Collective. Jason’s work stems from a desire to see people overcome personal barriers, form authentic relationships, and appreciate the beauty around them. Jason also has a deep love for using principles of forest therapy to bring people to new discoveries within themselves and foster a greater love for the natural world.

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The Space Between Doubt & Faith

By Kevin Dykstra, MDiv • June 12, 2026
Having served both as an ordained pastor and as a mental health professional, I have repeatedly heard strong emotions surrounding the idea of deconstructing - a process in which individuals systematically evaluate and question religious and spiritual beliefs and practices. Most often, I hear fear and anxiety from those who are personally wrestling with deconstruction or watching someone they love go through it. Such fears frequently include: - Fear of divine retribution or punishment - Fear that a loved one will abandon their faith - Fear of losing community or damaging family relationships - Fear of losing one’s identity - Grief over the loss of certainty - Fear of losing meaning or purpose This list could go on, of course, and it is not meant to be exhaustive. The point is that the idea of deconstruction can be highly intimidating for many people and it often brings up significant fear and distress, leading people to seek guidance from trusted faith leaders and mental health professionals. Unfortunately, there are also many less-than-helpful beliefs about what it means to undergo the process of deconstruction. So let's break some of these down: Deconstruction inevitably leads to abandoning religious belief Deconstruction is defined as a process - a process of evaluating, analyzing, and questioning one's own religiosity and/or spirituality. Engaging in this process does not, however, naturally lead to the abandonment of religious belief. Some individuals ultimately step away from religious identification altogether (de-identify), while others move toward reconstruction - retaining some elements of faith, though often reshaped. In fact, some have argued that a cycle of deconstruction and reconstruction may result in a more mature faith and may be a natural part of human growth and development. Things won't get better after deconstructing One thing we know about spirituality and religiosity is that they are incredibly sticky. What I mean by that is that they are incredibly powerful social forces and have deep impacts on our identity, morality, community, and even emotional reflexes. The impact of religion and spirituality can sometimes be hard to shake, even if you have left your religion or reconstructed with a new religious identity and understanding. For example, someone who has left a rigid religious environment may find themselves reproducing similar all-or-nothing, black-and-white thinking patterns in secular contexts. Other individuals might find that they struggle to shake a fear of divine punishment or retribution, despite having stopped believing in either hell or God. This is normal. Over time, though, many individuals' distress or struggles in these areas do soften in intensity. Reasons for deconstruction can be boiled down to one cause Reasons for undergoing the process of deconstruction vary. For some, deconstruction begins with an internal sense that what they were taught to think and believe conflicts with the behaviors or gut sense of what they believe to be true, launching the person into a period of intellectual questioning. Others begin deconstruction as a direct result of religious trauma and abuses experienced in religious/spiritual contexts. Others begin the process after experiencing a profound loss or death that their faith system does not seem able to explain or make sense of. Point being: the reasons for deconstruction vary and often begin with honest, sincere questions, doubts, concerns, and a search for answers or truth.  If you or someone you care about is facing challenges associated with deconstruction, though, what can you do? Be patient Remember that deconstruction is a process, not a single decision, event, or destination. This process may take time and may not be forced. And if you have left religion or spirituality behind, remember that the emotional intensity associated with previous beliefs often softens over time, and you may notice that your distress gradually lessens. Seek out a trusted religious/spiritual leader or other wise and trusted mentor You may be surprised to find that your religious leader has undergone a similar process or has resources that might be able to help you navigate this issue. The process of deconstruction does not have to be explicitly anti-religious and some individuals may find they benefit from addressing their concerns with faith leaders. Seek out a mental health professional The process of deconstruction can result in feeling highly anxious, depressed, or that life feels unbearable. Finding a mental health professional who understands the process of faith change, respects you and your journey, and can provide resources for coping with related mental health concerns can be tremendously helpful. Find resources related to deconstruction, faith change, religious/spiritual trauma, and other related issues There is an increasing number of resources aimed at helping individuals dealing with these issues, including the book used as inspiration for this article written by a Hope College professor of psychology and director of the Frost Center, Dr, Daryl R. Van Tongeren (2024). Books, audiobooks, and podcasts from professionals and individuals with lived experience may help you gain a greater appreciation and awareness for what you are experiencing.
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