Understanding grief: The neuroscience of loss and the journey through healing
This post has been a long time coming. Since I lost my dear Mother a few years ago, I knew that one day I would want to share my experience with anyone who might find comfort in it.
It wasn’t easy for me to talk about grief, and not because I didn’t know the right words or because I was too emotional, but because I couldn’t find anyone who wanted to listen. People, in general, fear the topic; they don’t know how to react or what to say. Even the closest friends, after initially crying with me, would eventually say: You need to start getting over this. But grief... it just doesn’t work like that.
A friend once described to me how he felt after the sudden death of his brother. He said that grief for him was like the ocean: sometimes it gently caresses your feet, and other times, a massive wave sucks you in, pushing you under the water, where it's dark, you're alone, and you feel powerless. For me, grief felt like a heavy, dark blanket covering me, pressing me to the ground. I felt deep sadness as a form of physical pain and longing. The loneliness was overpowering. The world kept moving, and everyone else just kept going, while I felt like I was stuck in slow motion. It took precisely three years for me to finally feel like the process was over.
If you’re currently grieving the loss of someone close to you, I hope that knowing you’re not alone will bring you some comfort. Healing takes time, and asking for help is a courageous step.
“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give but cannot. All that unspent love gathers in your throat, in your chest, in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”
The Brain on Grief: insights from neuroscience
Grief is as much a neurological process as it is an emotional one. In her book, The Grieving Brain: The Surprising Science of How We Learn from Love and Loss, neuroscientist Mary-Frances O'Connor explains how our brains grapple with the absence of someone deeply woven into our lives.
“Our brain operates on predictive coding. It expects to see our loved one in their usual place—walking through the door, calling us, or sitting at the dinner table. When that doesn’t happen, our brain enters a state of confusion and pain.”
Neuroimaging studies show that grief activates the anterior cingulate cortex, the same brain region involved in physical pain. This overlap explains why grief often feels like a wound, raw and all-encompassing. Over time, the brain adapts, but this process is not linear. The amygdala, the brain's emotional center, continues to relive memories, amplifying feelings of longing and loss.
The Stages of Grief: A guide, not a rulebook
The five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance, first outlined by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in On Death and Dying, offer a framework for understanding the grieving process. These stages are not prescriptive or linear; people move through them at their own pace and may revisit stages as they process their loss.
Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking offers a raw portrayal of these stages. Reflecting on her husband’s sudden death, she writes:
"Grief, when it comes, is nothing like we expect it to be. It is a place none of us know until we reach it."
Her words resonate with those who’ve felt the unpredictable waves of grief, from moments of disbelief to deep sadness.
The brain on grief: Neuroscience insights
Grief is not merely emotional; it is deeply rooted in the brain. Studies show that grief activates the same brain regions associated with physical pain, such as the anterior cingulate cortex. This explains why the heartache of loss often feels so visceral. Neuroscientist Mary-Frances O'Connor, in The Grieving Brain: The Surprising Science of How We Learn from Love and Loss, emphasises that grief reflects our brain’s attempt to reconcile the absence of someone deeply integrated into our lives.
The person we’ve lost is stored in our brain’s predictive coding systems, O'Connor writes. Our brain expects them to walk through the door, call us, or be in their usual place at the dinner table. Grief is the painful process of updating those expectations.
Neuroimaging studies also reveal heightened activity in the amygdala, the brain's emotional epicentre. This amplification intensifies our memories of the deceased, sometimes causing flashbacks or intrusive thoughts. While distressing, these moments are part of the brain’s effort to make sense of the loss.
The role of rumination and memory
Grief frequently pulls us into rumination—reliving moments shared with the deceased. Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking captures this vividly:
I found myself thinking as if he might come back, as if the sound of the door might be him. Even when I knew better, I couldn’t stop the thought from appearing.
Such “magical thinking” is not uncommon. It reflects how the hippocampus, the brain's memory center, works overtime during grief, replaying interactions and vivid memories. While this process can perpetuate feelings of longing and despair, it also helps us forge a narrative around the loss, crucial for healing.
Healing through connection and time
Over time, the brain adapts to the absence of a loved one, a process facilitated by the neuroplasticity that defines human resilience. The prefrontal cortex, responsible for rational thought, begins to temper the amygdala’s intense emotions, allowing for moments of acceptance and peace.
However, healing doesn’t mean forgetting. As Didion poignantly reflects, “We are not idealized wild things. We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away.” Grief becomes a part of us, a quiet companion that changes shape but never fully departs.
Social connections also play a critical role in healing. Oxytocin, the so-called “bonding hormone,” is released during interactions with loved ones, countering the stress hormone cortisol that floods our systems in grief. Studies suggest that engaging with a supportive community, whether through therapy, support groups, or friends, can rewire the brain’s grief pathways, promoting recovery.
The Art of remembering
Modern neuroscience aligns with ancient wisdom: grief is not about moving on but moving forward. We integrate the memory of our loved ones into a new normal. As Didion writes:
“Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it... The specifics of what happened to those we love are what linger, what holds us fast.”
Grief in Film: Stories that illuminate the journey
Movies often serve as mirrors, reflecting our struggles and offering solace. These films about grief explore its depths, providing a way to connect with the universality of loss:
Collateral Beauty (2016)
This poignant film stars Will Smith as a grieving father who channels his emotions by writing letters to concepts like Love, Time, and Death. The film reminds us that even in the midst of pain, there can be moments of beauty and connection.
A Man Called Otto (2022)
Based on the novel A Man Called Ove, this story follows Otto, a grumpy widower struggling with the loss of his wife. Through unexpected friendships, he learns that healing comes in unexpected ways and that love can re-enter life, even after profound grief.
What Dreams May Come (1998)
This visually stunning film, starring Robin Williams, delves into the afterlife as a man searches for his wife after her death. It portrays grief’s transformative power and the enduring bond between loved ones, even beyond death.
Healing takes time
As movies, books, and science all remind us, grief is not something we simply “get over.” It is something we learn to carry. Like an ocean, grief can be gentle one moment and overpowering the next. A friend once described it as feeling trapped under a wave, where it’s dark, lonely, and suffocating.
Over time, the brain adapts, thanks to its neuroplasticity. The prefrontal cortex begins to temper the amygdala’s heightened emotional responses, allowing for moments of clarity and peace. This doesn’t mean forgetting but integrating the memory of our loved ones into a new normal.
The importance of stories
Stories—whether through books like The Grieving Brain or films like What Dreams May Come—offer a way to navigate grief. They remind us that we are not alone, that our experiences are shared, and that healing is possible.
As O’Connor writes, “Grief is a form of learning. It teaches us how to navigate a world forever changed.”
If you are grieving, take comfort in knowing that the journey is your own, but you are not alone. Healing takes time, and seeking support is a courageous step toward rediscovering the light in life.
