Today marks my third article for the Tumbler Ridge Lines, and I have truly enjoyed our Thursday conversations together. Thank you to those who have reached out to me — your kind words do not fall on deaf ears.
One thing that seems to come up often is this question: What does grief look like? How do people of different faiths, cultures, ages, and walks of life grieve within the same community?
One message I received spoke about the value of group work and the importance of sharing our grief stories. When we share our stories, we often begin to realize we are not alone. Sometimes, in another person’s words, we find pieces of ourselves and emotions we could not quite explain.
Today’s article focuses on melancholy — a word not often used in today’s world. Mind you, neither is grief.
Melancholy is a state of deep reflection, sadness, and longing. It is not always loud.
Sometimes it arrives quietly, sitting beside us in the early morning hours or in the silence after everyone else has gone home.
Grief does not look the same for everyone. For some, it is tears. For others, it is exhaustion, anger, isolation, humour, busyness, or even silence. Within one small community, there can be hundreds of different grief stories unfolding at the very same time, many hidden behind everyday smiles.
Yet despite our differences, there is something deeply human that connects us all — the need to feel seen, heard, and understood.
Melancholy is that feeling of deep sorrow, but it is quite different from depression.
Depression is something where our thoughts can begin to spiral, causing us to fall deeper into self-judgment and hopelessness. At that point, I always encourage people to reach out to a counsellor, trusted support person, or help line.
Melancholy, however, can feel more like numbness. No motivation. No willingness to try anything new. It can feel like a state of emotional stillness — a quiet “what happens now?”
In the stages of grief, melancholy often arrives after disbelief and grasping. Many of you have asked me during our Thursday discussions, “What happens now?” Well, in many ways, your community is already moving through the stages of grief — many just do not realize it yet.
After melancholy often comes realization — the understanding that the grief is real.
From there, clarity may begin to form, though many people revisit stages along the way. As understanding deepens, compassion can emerge, and eventually resilience begins to take shape.
If you look around your community right now, you can almost watch these stages unfolding in real time. A new school is being proposed. To some, it may look like politics or paperwork, but underneath it all are human beings looking at their community and saying:
“We need to help. We need to move beyond disbelief, grasping, and melancholy. We need clarity, compassion, and resilience so our children can move forward.”
Grief is woven into almost everything we do. People simply do not always want to see it or understand it, because when we look directly at grief, it hurts deeply. That is why the stages of grief exist. Our minds cannot consume overwhelming events all at once. We process slowly, little by little, day by day.
As your community moves forward with plans for a new school, people will continue to ebb and flow through the stages of grief. These are the phases of healing, and each person experiences them differently.
When we see someone in a state of melancholy, our first instinct is often to suggest counselling. And while counselling can be incredibly important, some people have shared with me that they feel offended when it is immediately suggested, because they are not depressed, nor are they necessarily in need of medical intervention. They simply feel numb.
This is where groups can be incredibly powerful.
I know Trent has already been looking into groups that are forming within your community to help people talk openly about grief. Attending a grief support group works well because, during melancholy, you may not have the energy to speak, but you can listen. And sometimes, simply hearing another person’s story sparks a little hope and reminds you that what you are experiencing is far more common than you realize.
I have placed the stages of grief — the phases of healing — into an order for ease of writing about them. However, grief does not move in the same order for everyone, and your grief journey may look very different from someone else’s.
Take a pen and connect the stages of grief you feel you are experiencing.
You may move back and forth between stages, skip some entirely, or revisit others many times. This is called mind mapping, a simple tool to show you how the stages of grief can phase in and out of our days.
There is no perfect path through grief — only your own.
This article is not intended to replace professional medical or psychological support or care. If at any point you feel overwhelmed or need immediate support, please consider reaching out to Mental Health/Community Care at 250-242-2642.
We will be gathering online next week to hold space for this conversation—to talk openly about the many ways grief shows up. I will be there to answer your questions and to support open conversation around your grief journey. If you would like to submit questions in advance, please don’t hesitate to reach out at info@robertspress.ca. If you need additional grief resources, support is available.
Christine Dernederlanden, C.B.T., C.T.S.S., IAC Master Practitioner and Reiki Master, is a grief and trauma expert, author, and speaker. She is the author of numerous books, including Where is Robert?, and Grief Uprooted: The Seven Stages of Grief for the Living, and hosts the Grief Uprooted podcast. Learn more at www.griefuprooted.com www.robertspress.ca
