Learning to grieve for Palestine 

Published in The NB Media Co-op

(*artwork: “I’ll hold you” by Incé Husain)

It has been 200 days of genocide. Broadcast to the world by journalists in Gaza, images of bloodshed soak our eyes. 

Grief is rampant, unpredictable, and chronic. As daily routines sap our time, grief is interrupted. It builds mutely, slumbers unacknowledged, or shifts into dissociative shock. 

In Fredericton, community members Breagh Christie and Shinaid Jane Grace organized a Meditation and Creation Circle that offered a space to grieve freely for Palestine. 

The capped event took place on the evening of February 16th at the Brookside Wellness Centre. It also fundraised for The United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees (UNRWA). Each attendee donated at least $20 to reserve their space; the event raised $426 across the eleven who came. 

Shiona McIntosh, an attendee and owner of the Brookside Wellness Centre, remains marked by the restorative nature of the circle.

“(The event was) well over a month ago, but I’m surprised just talking about it and thinking about it, how I’m feeling pretty tender right now about what happened there in that circle, and realizing again how important it was,” says McIntosh. “ It made me think more deeply about the gratitude that I feel for my own life and the safety that I experience on a day to day basis: I don’t have to think about what I’m going to eat, I have so many choices, I have water that comes out of my tap. I don’t feel guilty about that, but it has raised my level of awareness for the suffering of others. I hope that was extended to everyone who came.”

Grace describes the room where the event was held as “a womb” - dark, windowless, with soft light emanating from the corners. One side of the room was filled with yoga mats and blankets. The other side was for crafts and sharing circles. 

The evening began with an “ice breaker” that had attendees form a circle, draw a “word of affirmation” from a jar, and share what came to mind. The words were about gentleness, community, and love. It immediately opened the room to tenderness and emotions raging for Palestine.  

“That (sharing) really led directly to quite a vulnerable space where people were being really open and honest with their experiences and some of the grief and pain that was coming up as the focus of the event was Palestine. I think that was a pretty immediate entry point into why we were all there together,” says Christie, sharing that some attendees had direct family in Palestine. “To be able to hear their experiences and how their families and the land that their ancestors are directly from, how that's been impacting them… not only were we so grateful for their vulnerability in sharing that, but I think it really did open up the space for everyone to tap into that because it is really heavy what's going on. I think that really was an intention of Shinaid and I - just to be able to hold a space for all of the emotions involved in what's happening.”

McIntosh recalls one young woman whose extended family are in Palestine. As the young woman contemplated the word of affirmation in her hand, she spoke of hiding her emotions, putting on a brave face, doing all she can for Palestine, going about her life, and denying herself true grief. She then dissolved into tears. She left the room and returned a few minutes later. Other attendees rushed to her with hugs and tissues, telling her she wasn’t alone. 

“My heart just felt like it went right out to her, as I’m sure everyone else’s heart in that circle did,” says McIntosh. “I think it was just a deep feeling of respect and wanting to hold, wanting to help, just to be there and allow her to express. This was kind of the first time - and certainly publicly with a lot of strangers - where she was able to really allow her grief. It was big. It was deep.” 

The group gravitated towards the yoga mats and cushions. Christie led a restorative movement practice filled with gentle poses that “bring relaxation into the body”. As attendees lay within blankets and softness, Grace read poetry: “Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver and “Blessing” by John O’Donohue. The poems were chosen to build a “specific energy” - one of love, self-care, community, and nature, tethered by darker tones of isolation and grief. 

Tell me about despair, yours, and I’ll tell you mine,” quotes Grace from “Wild Geese”. “It’s about community and the harsh things that life brings.”

Christie speaks to Oliver’s line “the soft animal of your body”. It is an ode to tenderness, vulnerability, and the essentialness of self-care.

The soft animal of your body… that feels so vulnerable to me, and soft and tender and raw and kind of a bit exposed. So just learning how to care for yourself while remaining tender to your entire experience.”

Grace then led a love and kindness meditation. She spoke phrases about giving love to the self, and extending that love to family, to community, to the nation, to the globe. She guided the group’s awareness to Palestine. The attendees, perched on yoga mats, listened. An “inner experience” flourished, the yoga bringing them “into their bodies” and allowing a “mindful place within their consciousness”. 

“The energy was so visceral,” says Grace. “I could feel, in myself, grief. I could feel deep sadness, and I could feel that in the room within other people. And the idea that we were all sharing space together and not necessarily speaking about it, but just feeling. It felt like a prayer.”

A “transition period” marked by servings of ginger tea followed. Honey lay in a crockpot. Tea was poured in mugs made by Grace, whose ceramic work strives to connect people with nature. Attendees sipped tea as they began the final event of the evening - a collage activity where the poems “Wild Geese” and “Blessing” were cut and restructured in any way that spoke to the attendees, sparking new versions of the poems. The atmosphere shifted from grave to playful. Some attendees shared their work. 

“The energy got so bright and beautiful and playful. I was a little bit surprised because it was so tender and there was certainly grief present,” says Grace of the creative activity. “We got to witness (grief)  transform through the evening. And that just pointed to the power of community and of art as well - being able to transmute really challenging emotions.” 

McIntosh interpreted the creative activity as a means to tap into intuition, the simplicity of the task dismantling the sense of structure and “right or wrong” feelings. 

A ghost of loss brings clarity, reminds you of protection of the ancestors,” McIntosh reads her reconstruction of “Blessing”. “Feel the wind and the fluency of the ocean… Mind your life. Know there is love around you. Awaken, dance, balance, to bring you safely home.”

Christie, a yoga instructor, tried to ensure a safe space by welcoming all feelings and ways of coping. 

“There’s no wrong way of being. If that does mean leaving, then that's totally okay,” says Christie. “And I think that (Shinaid and I) being genuine and authentic in our expression and emotion, not trying to ignore any of the challenging feelings that might come up - that also helps create a safe space for others to feel how they're feeling.” 

McIntosh acknowledges the severity of grief and its individual nature. She believes that gentleness, time, and awareness are crucial to approach peace.

“Grief is so individual. It’s so traumatic and overpowering. Sometimes meditation can be really hard because you don’t want to be with that level of feeling. But it can be transformational too if you can allow yourself to sit with it,” says McIntosh. “I think taking it easy, having compassion with yourself, using your own intuition in terms of how best to approach it. Approaching it is probably the only way through it - stuffing it and repressing it doesn’t work, doesn’t help, doesn’t bring us to places of clear-headedness enough that we can act wisely.” 

For Christie, Grace, and McIntosh, strong awareness of Palestine came after October 7th. 

Christie and Grace learned from social media, tuning in to footage from journalists in Gaza. McIntosh listened to the news and learned from her kids, who were attending local film nights about Palestine hosted by Fredericton Palestine Solidarity

“I’ve known about Palestine and some of the ins and outs over the years, but certainly not to this extent,” says McIntosh. “It’s a genocide. It’s brutal, it’s unthinkable. The conditions - I can’t even think about it. I can, but it’s hard to know what’s going on there and to see such extreme hardship.” ♦

This article appeared in The NB Media Co-op on April 26th, 2024:

https://nbmediacoop.org/2024/04/26/learning-to-grieve-for-palestine/

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