Words by Rosie Mahoney
In part one of our grief series, Grief as a Spectrum, we explored the seemingly endless ways grief can arrive in our lives. This exploration caused us to pause and wonder: if grief is so unknowable, why has humanity spent centuries trying to define how it should be expressed?
Throughout history, mourning has often been public, structured, and ordered by social expectation. In some ancient cultures, grief was expressed through elaborate processions, hired mourners, the ongoing maintenance of tombs, and, in certain cases, even the expectation that a spouse or servant would accompany the deceased in death. Centuries later, Victorian mourning rituals set strict rules around bereavement: widows wore black for years, social activities were limited, and mirrors were covered as a sign of respect for the dead.

While grief in the 21st century has become increasingly individualised, murmurs of these expectations still remain. There are often unspoken ideas about how grief should behave. Cry too much and you risk making others uncomfortable. Cry too little and people begin to wonder if something is wrong. Grieve openly and you may be seen as unable to move on. Return to normal life too quickly and your loss might appear diminished. For something so universally expansive, grief remains surprisingly policed, demanding some type of comprehensible timeline: moving through it, finding closure, getting back to ‘normal’.
Nick Cave once described grief as a primary condition of living and that we are tiny, trembling clusters of atoms, subsumed within grief’s awesome presence. Grief is vast. Grief is indifferent. It is inevitable and unconfined. So how can we honour something so enigmatic, yet so ordinary? Perhaps the most rebellious response we can have is to allow that which is, to unfold on its own terms, rather than those imposed by tradition, society, or even ourselves.
Sanctuary is a blend designed for deep healing, comfort and calm so we may invite grief in whatever form it takes and offer ourselves a safe space to process it.