Author Archives: kripa

If you’re grieving and find yourself exhausted in a way sleep doesn’t touch, you’re not imagining it. You’re not lazy and you’re not “not coping well.” Grief doesn’t stay in the heart or the mind. It moves into the body, into the breath, the muscles and the nervous system. The tiredness you feel is real.

Grief isn’t only what follows a death. It can follow a divorce, a job loss, a diagnosis, estrangement from someone you love, a miscarriage, retirement, a move away from home – any loss that reshapes how your life looks and who’s in it. Wherever the grief comes from, the body responds in much the same way.

We’re taught to expect grief to look like tears. Fewer people expect heavy limbs, a foggy mind or a body that feels like it’s wading through water. In the yogic understanding of the body, this makes complete sense. What we call prāṇa, our vital life force, is intimately connected with the breath. One of the earliest ways grief reveals itself is through the breath. The breath often becomes shallow, guarded or uneven, and over time this altered pattern can contribute to the profound physical exhaustion so many grieving people experience.

More than two thousand years ago, Sage Patañjali observed that when the mind is deeply disturbed, it is accompanied by sorrow, restlessness in the body and disturbance in the breath (Yoga Sūtra 1.31). Modern research continues to echo this ancient observation, reminding us that grief is experienced not only in the mind, but throughout the whole body.

This is why the tiredness of grief doesn’t behave like ordinary tiredness. It isn’t the kind that a good night’s sleep resolves, because it isn’t only physical. It’s what happens when the breath has been shallow and guarded for so long that the body simply has less energy available.

This is often called grief fatigue, and it’s one of the most common, least talked about parts of grieving. It can show up within days of a loss, or arrive weeks later, quietly, after everyone else assumes you’re “getting back to normal.” Understanding why it happens is often the first relief a grieving person gets. Because once you know your exhaustion has a real basis, you can stop fighting your body and start supporting it.

Your body responds to emotional loss as though it is under threat

When a major loss hits, your body responds much as it would to any significant threat. The breath shortens and rises into the chest. The whole system becomes alert and protective. In the first days, this can even look like extraordinary capability. You make the calls, handle the logistics, comfort others and keep going because you have to. Whether you’re arranging a funeral, navigating a divorce, coping with a diagnosis or rebuilding after another life-changing loss, your body is working far harder than it appears.

But grief isn’t a single event the body can recover from in a week. It’s sustained. And a body that stays braced for months pays for it. Sleep, digestion and energy all suffer when the breath never fully settles. This is a large part of why grief fatigue feels so deep and so resistant to rest.

It’s also why exhaustion often gets worse before it eases. The alertness that carried you through the early weeks wears off and what’s left is a body that has been holding its breath for far too long.

You slept. But did you feel rested?

One of the cruelest parts of grief fatigue is that you can sleep nine hours and still wake up feeling like you didn’t even lie down.

Grief affects the quality of sleep, not just the hours of it. Racing thoughts and a body still bracing for impact keep the breath shallow even in sleep and keep you out of the deep, repairing stages of rest. So you may sleep long and light, without ever fully resting. Some people can’t fall asleep at all, replaying the same conversation or moment on a loop. Others wake at the exact hour a phone used to ring or the time they’d normally have left for a job that no longer exists, as if the body itself remembers the timeline of loss.

Either way, the result is a tiredness that rest doesn’t touch, because on a physiological level, real rest isn’t happening, even while you’re technically asleep. This is why so many grieving people describe walking through fog, months into their loss.

Grieving Is Still Work

Grief takes constant, invisible effort. Regulating waves of emotion, carrying on with daily responsibilities while distracted by loss, comforting other people who are also grieving, holding yourself together in a meeting, all of this draws on the same energy your body uses for physical exertion.

This isn’t simply a metaphor. Grieving asks your brain and body to do an enormous amount of invisible work – processing emotions, adapting to change, making decisions and continuing everyday life despite the loss. All of this draws on energy, which is why even replying to a text, preparing a meal or making a simple decision can feel surprisingly exhausting.

Fatigue moves in waves and not in a straight line

Grief fatigue rarely follows a straight path. You might feel more like yourself for a few days, then be flattened again by a birthday, an anniversary, a smell, a song you didn’t expect to hear.

These are grief triggers, and they can catch the breath and tighten the body almost instantly, long after the initial loss. A single photograph can send you right back into the heavy, drained feeling of the early weeks.

This is normal. It doesn’t mean you’re back at square one or failing to heal. Grief isn’t linear and neither is the fatigue that moves with it.

The body slows down in other ways too

Grief has measurable effects on how the body functions. A body that has been under sustained strain for months tends to fall sick more easily, takes longer to recover from minor illnesses or feels generally run-down and achy long after the loss itself.

Some people notice muscle aches, headaches, digestive disturbances, heaviness in the limbs, brain fog or difficulty concentrating. Others find they catch more colds or take longer to recover from minor illnesses. These are recognised physical manifestations of grief. While it’s always important to seek medical advice if symptoms are severe or persistent, many people are surprised to discover that grief itself can profoundly affect the body.

Gentle ways to support your body through Grief Fatigue

You can’t think your way out of grief fatigue. But you can support the nervous system while it recalibrates.

Let rest outrank productivity. Give yourself permission to do less. Pushing through grief fatigue usually deepens it rather than resolving it.

Return to the breath

This is where healing gently begins. In yoga, the breath is the bridge between body and mind and the vehicle through which prāṇa flows. Grief often disrupts this natural rhythm. Slow, gentle breathing won’t make the grief disappear, but it can help restore a sense of steadiness, allowing prāṇa to move more freely and easing some of the body’s protective holding.

Don’t ask too much from an already depleted body. Use your Prana effectively. Move, but move gently, not intensely. High-intensity effort, useful at other times in life, can add strain rather than relieve it here.

Protect your sleep. Consistent sleep and wake times, dimmer light in the evening, less screen stimulation before bed – these help even when sleep still feels lighter or more broken than it used to.

Let your body set the pace

Fatigue is information, not failure. The body often slows us down before the mind is ready to acknowledge what has happened. Respecting that wisdom, resting without judgment and allowing yourself time to recover are not signs of weakness, they are part of healing.

Be gentle around known dates.

If an anniversary or holiday is approaching, build in extra rest beforehand instead of expecting yourself to function at full capacity through it.

If this exhaustion has gone on a long time and is affecting your ability to function, it helps to work with someone who understands grief as something that lives in the body, not only the mind.

You don’t have to carry this exhaustion alone

Grief fatigue is real and it deserves real support, not just willpower. At Grief & Beyond, we understand that grief is not only something you think or feel, it is something your whole being experiences. Through yoga-based grief therapy, breath practices and compassionate guidance, we help you gently reconnect with your body, restore your energy and move towards healing at your own pace.

Contact us to know more.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is it normal to feel physically exhausted after a loss?

Yes. Physical exhaustion is one of the most common, least discussed parts of grief. It comes from a body that has been holding its breath for weeks or months, disrupted sleep and the ongoing effort of holding yourself together emotionally.

How long does grief fatigue usually last?

There’s no fixed timeline. For some it eases within weeks; for others it continues for months, especially if sleep and stress stay disrupted. If it persists a long time or worsens, it’s worth speaking with a doctor or grief professional to rule out other contributing factors.

Can grief make you physically sick?

Yes. Prolonged grief-related stress can suppress immune function, which is why many people get more colds, body aches or flu-like symptoms while grieving.

What helps with tiredness caused by grief?

Gentle movement, breathwork, protecting your sleep routine and resting without guilt all help support the body through grief fatigue. Professional support can help too, if the fatigue is severe or long-lasting.

Is grief fatigue different from depression?

They can overlap, but they’re not the same. Grief fatigue is the body’s response to loss and it tends to move in waves with grief triggers. If low energy is constant, comes with hopelessness or doesn’t ease over time, it’s worth speaking with a mental health professional to check for depression alongside grief.

 

One of the first things grief changes is our breath.

We don’t usually notice it.

Until one day, we realise we’ve been holding it for far too long or we have not been breathing right.

What Grief Taught Me

Even when everything around me felt unreal, one thing remained.

My breath.

Sometimes it was shallow.

Sometimes I realised I had been holding it.

Sometimes it escaped in a long sigh.

But it was always there.

Without judgement.

It didn’t ask me to be strong.

It didn’t ask me to move on.

It didn’t tell me that everything happens for a reason.

It simply stayed without judgement and reflected my emotions.

The Wisdom of the Yoga Sutras

Long before grief was understood through the language of psychology, Sage Patanjali observed in the Yoga Sutras that when the mind is deeply disturbed, it is accompanied by suffering, restlessness in the body and disturbance in the breath (Yoga Sutra 1.31).

I find it remarkable that these observations continue to feel so relevant today.

Not because it explains grief.

But because it reminds us that what we experience in grief is profoundly human.

Human beings have always loved.

Human beings have always lost.

Human beings have always experienced suffering.

And our breath has always reflected what we carry within us.

Our breath changes because we have changed.

This is one of the reasons breath holds such an important place in Yoga-based Grief Therapy.

Not because breathing exercises make grief disappear.

They don’t.

And they can’t.

Grief is not something to be fixed.

It is something to be lived through.

But the breath offers us something precious.

An anchor.

A quiet place to return when life feels unsteady.

One Breath at a Time

One slow inhale.

One gentle exhale.

Waiting patiently.

One breath at a time.

Every dawn is a new beginning.

Every breath offers one too.

If you’re carrying grief right now, you don’t have to navigate it alone.

In Yoga-based Grief Therapy, we begin gently – with the breath.

Reach out to explore what a Yoga-based Grief Therapy session could look like.

Grief can hit us suddenly. It can look like crying, but sometimes it looks nothing like that.

Sometimes grief looks like forgetting to eat. Not knowing what day it is. Staring at a screen without reading anything on it. Feeling completely exhausted without having done anything at all.

And if you have ever felt that way after a loss, any kind of loss, there is a reason for it. Your body is not failing you. It is responding to something real.

Grief Is Not One Emotion

This is what most people don’t tell you about grief: it is not a single feeling that arrives and then passes.

It is shock. And anger. And guilt. And confusion. And loneliness. All at the same time. All trying to live inside the same body.

One moment you are numb. The next moment, a song, a smell, a particular quality of afternoon light breaks through and numbness returns. You cannot explain why. Then the anger. Then a strange, guilty flash of something almost like relief. Then nothing again.

None of this is wrong. None of this means you are grieving badly. It means you are grieving.

When the Ordinary World Carries On

One of the most disorienting things about grief is this: the world does not stop.

People are laughing. Buses are moving. Phones keep buzzing with things that suddenly feel completely irrelevant. The ordinary world continues at its ordinary pace, and you are standing slightly outside of it, wondering how unfair life is.

That gap between the world outside and what is happening inside you is one of grief’s loneliest qualities.

Why Grief Is So Tiring

Your nervous system is still responding as though something important is missing. It stays on alert, always scanning, bracing, waiting, even when there is nothing left to brace for.

This is why you can sleep for eight hours and still wake up exhausted. Why concentration becomes difficult. Why the smallest decisions can feel impossibly heavy. Your body is working hard, not against you, but because it is still trying to protect you.

The tiredness is not weakness.

What the Body Knows

Yoga philosophy has always understood that the body is not separate from what we feel. Grief does not live only in the mind. It lives in the chest that feels tight. The shoulders that won’t drop. The breath that keeps catching. The heaviness in the legs that makes even getting up feel like an effort.

The ancient texts speak of prana, the life force that moves through us. In times of grief, that flow can feel disrupted. Not permanently. But it needs tending.

This is why breath and gentle movement matter in grief. Not to fix it or hurry it along, but to give the body a way to process what the mind is still trying to make sense of.

If grief has left you feeling tired, distracted or unlike yourself, it doesn’t necessarily mean something is wrong. It may simply mean your whole system is doing the quiet, demanding work of adapting to a life that has changed. Learn more about the Grief and Beyond Method

Every year, International Day of Yoga reminds us of something remarkable – that a tradition thousands of years old is still alive, still practised, still offering something real to millions of people across the world.

That is worth celebrating.

But perhaps yoga’s truest value is not revealed when life is going well. Perhaps it is revealed when life falls apart.

When loss arrives.

When relationships change.

When illness disrupts our plans.

When disappointment reshapes the future we imagined.

When grief enters our lives.

Because sooner or later, every human being encounters experiences that cannot be fixed, solved or reasoned away. And it is here that yoga reveals its deeper purpose.

Yoga Was Never About Avoiding Suffering

The ancient yogis were not naïve about life.

They understood that human beings would encounter loss, uncertainty, attachment, disappointment and change. The Yoga Sutras begin by addressing the fluctuations of the mind – not because the mind is broken, but because a restless, suffering mind is the human condition. The practice was never intended to create a life free from challenge.

Rather, yoga offers the possibility of cultivating steadiness amidst challenge. A mind that is less reactive. A heart that is less overwhelmed. An awareness that can witness experience without becoming completely consumed by it. This does not mean becoming detached from life. It means developing the capacity to remain present to life as it is.

Grief Challenges the Mind

Anyone who has experienced grief knows that it affects far more than emotions.

Sleep becomes disturbed. Concentration becomes difficult. The body feels heavy. Memories replay repeatedly. The future becomes difficult to imagine.

The mind moves constantly between what was, what should have been and what can never be changed.

This is not a personal failing. It is part of being human.

Awareness Before Healing

For many years, I had a personal yoga practice and taught yoga to others.

Yet when personal loss entered my life, I discovered that having a yoga practice was not the same as being aware of the grief I was carrying.

Like many people, I was functioning. Working. Teaching. Moving through daily life. But beneath the surface, there was sorrow that had not yet been fully acknowledged.

It was through Grief Yoga that I began to notice where that grief was living – in the body, in the breath, in the stories I kept replaying and in the emotions I was trying to and still try to move past too quickly.

The practice did not take the grief away. It helped me become aware of it.

And awareness is often where healing begins. Because we cannot tend to what we do not recognise.

This International Day of Yoga

Grief often asks us to do what feels impossible – to continue living after loss, to carry sorrow and still remain present, to move forward while honouring what is gone.

No posture can solve this. But yoga offers something quieter and more lasting. A way to return to the present moment, to reconnect with the body, to meet the movements of the mind with greater compassion.

The question is not how much we know about yoga, or how many postures we can perform. The question is whether our practice is helping us meet life with greater awareness and steadiness.

Yoga did not take my grief away. It gave me a way to meet it…with respect…without judgement.

As children, many of us grow up inside stories.

Fairy tales where love always lasts. Heroes who overcome every obstacle. Movies where people eventually find happiness and clarity. Promises that hard work will be rewarded and life will somehow fall into place.

Slowly, without even realising it, we begin building an inner picture of how life is supposed to unfold. Not just goals, but emotional expectations.

We imagine relationships that feel safe and lasting, careers that feel meaningful, families that stay connected, futures that feel certain, and versions of ourselves that feel fulfilled and complete.

And somewhere along the way, these imagined futures begin to feel real to us.

When Life Follows a Different Story

But life does not always follow the stories we carried.

Relationships change. People disappoint us. Careers take unexpected turns. Dreams quietly lose shape over time. The life we imagined slowly begins to look different from the life we are living.

Sometimes the disappointment arrives suddenly. Sometimes it unfolds so gradually that we barely notice it happening.

We rarely recognise these experiences as grief.

Because nothing dramatic happened. No one died.

Sometimes grief is not only about losing what we had. Sometimes it is about grieving what we thought life would become.

These losses are often invisible. And because they are invisible, they are easily minimised – by others and eventually by ourselves.

We hear things like:

“This is just life.”

“You should be grateful.”

“Everyone goes through this.”

“At least nothing terrible happened.”

So we learn to dismiss what we are feeling, even when something within us is quietly hurting.

But disappointment that is never acknowledged does not simply disappear. It lingers quietly in the background of our lives as emotional heaviness, disconnection, resentment, numbness, restlessness or the feeling that something within us has changed.

What Ancient Wisdom Tells Us

In the Yoga Sutras, Patanjali describes how suffering often arises not only from pain itself, but from attachment – to people, identities, expectations and the way we hoped life would unfold.

We become attached to imagined futures, emotional certainties and the belief that happiness will arrive in a particular form.

Healing Begins with Awareness

Healing does not begin by forcing ourselves to “move on” or stay positive. It begins with awareness. With gently noticing and acknowledging the quieter changes within us.

With allowing ourselves to say:

• Something in me expected more than this.
• Something in me is grieving a story that did not come true.

And that is real. That deserves to be held.

At Grief & Beyond, we hold space not only for visible loss, but also for the quieter grief that emerges through unmet expectations, life transitions and the parts of life that no longer feel the same.

Because not all grief looks like grief. And not all disappointment is simply “just life.”

When we hear the word grief, we often think of death.

We think of losing someone we love.

We think of bereavement, funerals and the ache of a loved one not being around anymore.

But grief is much wider than that.

Grief is the response to any meaningful loss, change or ending.

It is what happens when something that mattered deeply to us is no longer the same.

Sometimes that is the loss of a loved one.

Sometimes it is the loss of a relationship, a role, a dream, a version of ourselves or the future we thought we were moving towards.

If something changed in a way that broke your heart, shifted your identity, or altered the shape of your life, grief may be what you are feeling.

And that grief is real.

Grief Can Come From Many Kinds of Loss

Loss is not always visible.

Grief can arise from:

• The death of a loved one.
• Separation or divorce.
• The loss of health or physical ability.
• Infertility or pregnancy loss.
• Retirement.
• Empty nest.
• Friendship endings.
• Moving away from home.
• Career or business loss.
• A major diagnosis.
• Children growing up.
• The ending of a life chapter.
• Loss of certainty or safety.

Sometimes we grieve possibilities too. This grief comes not from what we had but from what we hoped for.

We may grieve:

• The child we imagined.
• The relationship we longed for.
• The future we expected.
• The apology we never received.
• The version of ourselves before life changed.
• The life we thought we would live.

This grief can feel confusing because there is nothing concrete to point to.

But the loss is still deeply felt.

Grief Still Lives in the Body

Whether the loss is visible or invisible, the body responds.

In Yoga Sutra 1.31, Sage Patanjali beautifully names these very experiences:

duḥkha (sorrow/ sufferring), daurmanasya (dejection, negative thoughts or low mood), aṅgamejayatva (restlessness of the body), and śvāsa-praśvāsa (disturbed pattern of breathing). 

This is why grief often feels physical.

You may notice:

• Fatigue.
• Heaviness.
• Sadness or negative thoughts.
• Anxiety.
• Numbness.
• Difficulty sleeping.
• Shallow breathing.
• Loss of appetite.
• Difficulty concentrating.
• Restlessness of the body.
• Restlessness of the mind.

The body does not only respond to what happened. It responds to what mattered.

In this way, the Yoga Sutras remind us that grief is not only an emotion. It is a full body-mind experience.

At the Heart of Grief

At its heart, grief is the body, mind and spirit adjusting to a reality it did not choose.

It is not something reserved only for death. It belongs to every meaningful loss.

What you are feeling is real.

And it deserves care.