Finding New Ways to Heal: How Embracing New Activities Helped Me Through Early Grief

When my son William died in 2019, I was overwhelmed by a grief so deep it felt like a shadow that consumed everything I knew. The early months after his death were a blur, a mix of emotions that I struggled to understand and navigate. It was a time when I felt compelled to break away from my usual routines, the usual activities that had always comforted me in the past. Instead, I turned to new experiences—new ways of occupying my mind and my time—and it made a world of difference in my healing process.

Though I can’t explain the science behind it, I can tell you that the act of engaging in new activities helped me profoundly. It was almost as if the mental shift was what my grieving mind needed. Instead of falling into my usual hobbies, where I would have gone through the motions and allowed sadness to settle in, I pushed myself to try new things that forced my brain to focus, learn, and grow.

One of the first things I did was enroll in a writing course led by my friend Nancy. Writing had never been a major part of my life outside of school papers, but I thought it might be a good way to express my emotions. And I was right. I wrote a lot about William—about his life, his impact on mine, and the overwhelming grief I was trying to work through. But I also wrote about other things, from the mundane to the profound. It was freeing to put words to my emotions, to see them in black and white, and to connect with my grief in a tangible way.

The course itself was incredibly helpful. My small group of women met once a week, providing a sense of structure and purpose. It became a safe space where I could express myself and learn from others who were on their own personal journeys. It was so valuable to me that I signed up for a second course after the first one ended, simply because I had found something that gave me the strength to continue moving forward. It wasn’t just about writing; it was about having something to look forward to, something outside of my house that didn’t feel too far out of reach.

In addition to writing, I decided to join our local chorus. Now, let me tell you, I am not a singer. In fact, my only experience with singing had been as a youngster in my church choir, and even then, I wouldn’t exactly call myself a "talented" vocalist. But I knew I needed something else, something that would again engage my brain and help me focus on something new. So, I joined the Carlisle Community Chorus, not knowing what to expect.

The lead up to tryouts were a bit nerve-wracking. But as I was walking in, I ran into a friendly older gentleman who had been part of the chorus for years. We chatted briefly, and I admitted to him that I was nervous about trying out. He smiled and reassured me, saying, “They take anyone who shows up!” That simple comment made me laugh and immediately helped me feel more at ease. It was a lighthearted reminder that I wasn’t in this alone.

The chorus became a routine that pulled me out of my own head and helped me find joy in a new way. I could feel my mind working, focusing on the notes, the rhythms, the coordination of voice and breath. It was also just another way to get out of the house, meet people, and connect with something greater than myself. I didn’t need to be an expert singer. What mattered was that I was doing something new, pushing myself outside my comfort zone, and allowing my grief to take a backseat for a while.

Looking back, I can see how these new activities helped me cope with the early days of grief. They didn’t make the sadness disappear, but they created space in my mind for something else—something that wasn’t just about sorrow. I started to find a new connection to William, too. Writing helped me revisit memories and moments I had cherished with him, while the chorus gave me a space where I could feel a sense of belonging and community in a time when everything else seemed uncertain.

I don’t know why these activities worked so well for me, but I’m grateful that I tried them. They kept my mind busy, challenged me to learn, and gave me something to look forward to. If you’re struggling with grief, I encourage you to consider stepping outside your usual routines and trying something new. It might be writing, singing, painting, or learning an entirely different skill. It doesn’t have to be perfect, but it could be exactly what you need to keep moving forward, even if it’s just one small step at a time.

In the midst of grief, the mind needs more than just space to mourn—it needs something to focus on, something that keeps it moving. That’s what helped me. And, in time, I hope it helps you too.