When Grief Speaks: The Many Hidden Triggers That Catch Us Unaware
- Cariad Spiritual

- 4 days ago
- 6 min read

Personally, I find October a very difficult month as it holds anniversaries of the death of my son, mother, and father-in-law. It doesn’t matter how many years go by these events still evoke a deep emotional response as memories resurface and waves of grief flow once more.
Throughout history and across continents, humans have instinctively sought ways to honour those who came before us to keep the thread between the living and the departed unbroken.
This yearning to remember, to connect, and to give thanks is at the heart of ancestor veneration, a practice that transcends religion and culture. Whether whispered in prayer, offered through food and flowers, or celebrated in joyful ceremony, these traditions remind us that grief is not only about endings it is also about continuity, belonging, and love that endures beyond form.
In ancient Egypt, families tended household shrines and brought offerings to tombs to nourish the ka, the life force of the departed. In West African and Caribbean traditions, ancestral altars remain central, with candles, water, and symbols of the four elements invite guidance and protection from those in the unseen realms. East Asian cultures observe rituals such as Qingming in China or Obon in Japan, when families visit graves, light lanterns, and share food to honour their ancestors’ spirits. When I was a child in Wales I accompanied my grandmother to the graveyard on Palm Sunday and the birthdays of ancestors and family members.
Among Indigenous peoples worldwide, from the First Nations of the Americas to the Māori of Aotearoa, the ancestors are ever-present; woven into stories, landscapes, songs, and sacred ceremonies that keep the wisdom of the lineage alive in every heartbeat.
Today, many people are rediscovering these sacred ways in new forms. Lighting a candle beside a photograph, creating an altar with objects of remembrance, visiting a special place in nature, or speaking aloud to those who have passed are all acts of reverence. Around the world, communities still gather for Día de los Muertos, Samhain, All Souls’ Day, and other festivals of remembrance, each a portal through which love flows between realms.
These rituals, old and new, serve not only to honour the dead but to heal the living, reminding us that we are the continuation of every ancestor’s dream, the living altar of their legacy.
To remember them is to remember ourselves - to trace our roots through time, to see how strength, courage, and grace move through our own veins. In every act of remembrance, grief softens, transforming into gratitude. Through these ancient and modern practices, we reclaim our place in the great lineage of life, knowing that we are never truly alone - only part of an ever-turning circle of souls - bound by love that never dies.

We tend to think of grief in one very specific way - as something that follows a death, a funeral, the finality of a person’s passing. Yet life doesn’t wait, and grief often arrives unannounced, riding in on the currents of change, shift, or loss - sometimes so subtly that we don’t even recognize it until we’re drowning in emotions.
Grief can be triggered in dozens of ways, many of which lie far outside the territory of “death”, and can offer a bridge toward deeper awareness, self-compassion, and healing.
Why so many “triggers”?
Grief is not just about death. It is a natural response to loss, yes - but also to ending, change, transition, rupture - anything that shakes or dissolves a familiar pattern
From this perspective, anything that disturbs our patterns - even subtly - can become a grief trigger.
Here are just some examples (not exhaustive!) of events that many people don’t immediately associate with grief but which absolutely can generate it:
Trigger | Why it can invoke grief |
Divorce, separation, end of romantic relationship | The ending of a shared vision, dreams, daily rhythms |
Loss of a job, career shift, redundancy | Identity, purpose, financial security all take a hit |
Retirement or transition to new life phase | The role you inhabited shifts or disappears |
Illness, injury, chronic health changes | Loss of bodily certainty, autonomy, “old self” |
Loss of a pet | The absence of a beloved companion and daily presence |
Moving house, changing schools, relocation | Loss of place, familiarity, root, social networks |
Death of close friend or distant family | Even when “expected,” the relational gravitational pull is gone |
Pregnancy loss, miscarriage, infertility | Dreams, hope, physical sense of connection interrupted |
Sudden traumatic events (accident, assault) | The world no longer feels safe; control is stripped away |
Loss of faith/spiritual rupture | The spiritual scaffolding you leaned on may fracture |
Loss of reputation, trust, safety, approval | Intangible losses strike at the core of self-worth |
Empty nest, children leaving home | A shift in roles, purpose, identity as parent |
Financial collapse, foreclosure, bankruptcy | Taken-for-granted security evaporates |
Because grief is deeply personal, which of those events elicits strong grief will differ by person. What feels catastrophic to one may feel minor to another. Comparison is not helpful: what matters is your inner experience.
The dance with triggers - how grief catches us midstream
Even after a “major loss,” many of us awaken to grief anew, wave after wave - not just at anniversaries or milestones - but in everyday moments. The Grief Recovery Institute calls these sensory landmines - sights, smells, songs, places, objects, conversations - that suddenly unmoor us.
For example:
A certain perfume wafting on the wind
A song on the radio
Receiving a letter or seeing a photo you weren’t expecting
Driving past a place you used to frequent together
Being asked, “How many children do you have?”
Seeing a card while shopping
Being thanked for something you no longer can do
When triggers arise, we might feel jolts of sadness, anger, confusion, guilt, or flux. Some of us repress or avoid those triggers, hoping they pass. But avoiding triggers may build landmines for future overwhelm. Instead, those moments often point to unresolved grief; grief you have not fully acknowledged, expressed, integrated.
One healthy way forward is to approach - gently, with self-compassion - what arises, rather than hiding from it. Each trigger is an invitation: What is it resurfacing? What part of me is seeking voice, recognition, release?
Why we sometimes doubt we are “allowed” to grieve
Many people feel confused or guilty about their grief, especially when:
The trigger is “less obvious”
The loss was ambiguous (e.g. estrangement, infertility, career derailment)
The grief doesn’t feel “dramatic” to others
There was no funeral, no closure, no societal acknowledgment
Others minimize or dismiss your pain
Yet your sorrow, mourning, disorientation and reconfiguration are valid. Any rupture of a pattern or expectation is a threshold, and crossing thresholds often entails grief work.
Grieving does not imply weakness; instead it implies love, resonance, and depth.

Introducing Good Grief The Oracle: Tools To Move From Grief to Grace
When the territory of grief is so vast, so layered, and so deeply personal, we need more than one voice, one approach, one therapy, or one practice. That’s why Good Grief The Oracle: Tools To Move From Grief to Grace is being lovingly curated as a multi-author, soul-infused project.
Our fifth book in the Oracle Book Series aims to hold every form of grief from visible losses to hidden ruptures, from sudden shock to slow erosion. It will weave together ordinary and extraordinary stories of loss, and pair them with therapeutic tools, sacred practices, and soul rituals that have carried others through.
If you:
Have walked a grief journey (your own story, or how you supported a client or loved one),
Can share a Soul Practice - a ritual, energetic exercise, meditative pathway, poetic tool, or transformational protocol,
Feel a call to offer that as a beacon of support, insight, healing for others,
Would like to expand the reach of your therapy or healing practice, or your organisation by being part of this beautiful collaboration,
Then I’d love to hear from you. We are now welcoming author applications for Good Grief The Oracle.
Together, we intend to build not just a book - but a network of healing voices - each adding light, resonance, and guidance to readers and listeners navigating grief’s many forms.
If this project calls to you your soul, check out the information page here, listen to me and DebS my co-project leader share our vision here and contact me to organise a chat.
May your grief, become your teacher, and may you discover the grace beyond the tears and sorrow.
In love and light
Angela Orora









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