Conversations in Grief Blog: Life on the Edge
Life on the Edge
by Hilary Furnish

Spring is a time for nesting. Birds, having finished their migration, are busy settling down and building nests for this year’s hatchlings. Over the years, I have seen all sorts of nests, but there is one local bird whose nests we rarely see. That is the nest of the pigeon. The reason we rarely see pigeon nests is because pigeons are not architects of them. Other birds are. They do not gather sticks, cloth, and mud to form round and cozy nests. Instead, they find a secure spot, add a few sticks or other debris to keep the eggs from rolling out and call it good. This lackadaisical approach is due to the fact pigeons are related to Rock Doves who make similar nests in the opening along rocky cliffs. Despite the fact they will reuse their nesting spots they often do just enough to keep the eggs and babies from tumbling over the cliff’s edge.
The idea of nesting or creating a safe space away from the elements has a lot to teach us about our needs as we grieve. In conversations with grievers, I often hear a deep desire to live smaller, to stay closer to home, and to wall themselves in from people and things that are draining. These desires are usually expressed with some feelings of guilt, as they require saying no in ways they haven’t in the past, even for good things. The ways grief affects our mind, body, and soul can leave us feeling easily overwhelmed and triggered by memories of who we have lost. Navigating the world whether places are familiar or new can be exhausting and can feel unsafe emotionally. So naturally we may feel a pull inward and homeward.
The experiences of early grief in many ways may resemble a pigeon's way of nesting. Loss often arrives when we have little time to plan for our own needs. We may know the person we love is dying, but the focus is usually on them and when they are gone only then do our own real needs become apparent. In response, we do our best to craft something around ourselves to keep us from tumbling over the edge. A stick or two that keeps us steady as we try to figure out how we can possibly survive in a world without someone so important. Facing a future without them requires that we keep building support around ourselves. Taking time to really assess what our needs are, who we have for support, and resources to help cope when the storms of grief feel like they will blow us away from the fragile shelter we have begun to build.
As you reflect on your own grief in encouraging you to take time outdoors this spring. Look for nesting birds and if you have the chance to take a closer look, observe the careful craftmanship of the bird’s nest. (If you can’t get outside, find a nature documentary on birds to watch.) Consider the areas of your life that need additional support. What and who do you need to feel safe, supported, and encouraged? When the storms of grief hit hard, what gets you through them? Begin to construct what you need for your grief by giving yourself permission to create boundaries and build the life you need to live in a world without your loved one.
