Lisa Tahir, LCSW

Changing Consciousness One Conversation at a Time

lisa@nolatherapy.com

504-261-4443

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Early November can bring a quiet shift. The holidays start appearing in store windows and calendars, and grief may begin to feel closer, not because you’re doing anything wrong, but because this season carries memories. A familiar chair, a favorite recipe, the person who used to call first: small things can make an absence feel newly present.

The myth of Orpheus and Eurydice offers a tender lens for this time of year. Orpheus, a musician grieving his beloved, travels to the underworld to bring her back. He is told not to look behind him until they have reached the world above. Near the threshold, he turns. Eurydice disappears from view.

We often hear this as a story about a fatal mistake. But what if the looking back is also part of the story? Orpheus looks because he loves, and because he wants to know she is there.

In Psychoastrology®, mythic and astrological symbols can be used as metaphors for inner experience, not as forces that determine what will happen. Asteroid 3361 Orpheus, named for the mythic musician, can serve as one such symbol: an invitation to consider how love and memory remain part of us after a loss. Looking back is not weakness. Remembering can be a way of continuing to love.

Grief is a bond to carry, not a problem to solve

Many people have been taught to expect grief to move through fixed stages toward closure. But grief does not follow a universal schedule, and it is not a test you pass by reaching a particular emotional destination. Contemporary grief psychology recognizes that many people maintain an ongoing inner connection with someone who has died. They may talk to them, revisit shared traditions, carry their values forward, or feel their presence in familiar moments.

This is sometimes called continuing bonds. It doesn’t mean denying the reality of a death. It means that love and relationship can continue in a changed form. You don’t have to erase a bond to keep living your life.

Grief can also arrive in bursts. A song, a date, a smell, a gathering, or a holiday ritual can bring a wave of longing that feels sudden, even when the loss happened years ago. These anniversary reactions are not proof that you are back at the beginning. They can be part of how memory and attachment meet the present.

And not every grief is caused by a death. You may be grieving a breakup, estrangement, miscarriage, pet, home, community, hoped-for future, or a version of yourself or your identity that no longer feels available. Some losses are hard to name because other people don’t recognize them as losses. This is sometimes called disenfranchised grief: grief that receives little understanding, acknowledgment, or social permission. If your pain is real to you, it deserves care.

A small remembrance table with a candle, a note, and seasonal greenery beside a window

A gentle self-check for this season

Before you decide what you “should” do for the holidays, pause and ask:

  • What am I carrying into this season? Name the loss in the words that feel right to you.
  • What tends to make it feel louder? A particular date, gathering, question, tradition, or quiet moment?
  • What might help me feel more supported? A person to check in with, time alone, a changed tradition, or a plan to leave early?

You don’t need a complete answer. Even naming one thing can help you meet the season with more kindness toward yourself.

Joy and grief can share the same room

You can miss someone and laugh at the table. You can feel grateful for a good moment and wish the person you lost could have been there. You can enjoy a celebration without proving that your grief has disappeared.

These feelings don’t have to take turns, and one doesn’t cancel out the other. If you notice guilt after laughing or enjoying yourself, try reminding yourself: “This moment of joy does not diminish my love.” Feeling good is not a betrayal. It’s simply one part of a human life that can hold more than one feeling.

If anxiety and spirituality are part of how you understand your inner life, it may help to make room for both: practical care for your nervous system, and whatever personal meaning, faith, ritual, or reflection feels true to you. A holistic approach doesn’t require you to find a lesson in every loss or turn pain into a positive. It can simply help you listen to what you need.

Make a gathering easier to navigate

A holiday gathering can bring connection and comfort. It can also be tiring, awkward, or too much. You are allowed to plan around your needs. Consider arranging your own transportation, choosing a time limit, stepping outside when you need quiet, or deciding in advance which traditions you want to keep or change.

If possible, agree on a code word with someone you trust. It can mean “please check in with me,” “help me change the subject,” or “I’m ready to go.” An exit plan isn’t rude. It’s a way to make showing up feel more possible.

You might say:

  • “I’d love to come, but I may stay for a shorter time. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to head home.”
  • “This season is complicated for me. It helps if we don’t expect me to be cheerful the whole time.”
  • “I’m not ready to talk about what happened today. Could we talk about something else?”
  • “I’d like to remember them, but I don’t want to be put on the spot. I’ll share when I’m ready.”

A person taking a quiet pause by a doorway while a warmly lit gathering continues in the background

If someone you love is grieving

You don’t need the perfect words. Often, the kindest thing is to make room for the person who died or the loss that happened. Say their name if you know it. Ask, “Would you like to tell me about them?” Offer something specific, such as bringing a meal, sitting together, or checking in after the gathering.

Try not to rush toward a silver lining. “At least you have…” or “Everything happens for a reason” may leave someone feeling they need to defend their pain. A simpler response can be more supportive: “I’m sorry. I remember how much they mattered to you. I’m here.”

This matters especially when a loss is overlooked: an ex-partner, an estranged family member, a pregnancy loss, a beloved pet, or a future someone hoped for. You don’t have to decide whether another person’s grief is “big enough” to deserve recognition.

One small remembrance practice for today

Choose one simple way to make room for love. Light a candle beside a photograph or meaningful object. Say the person’s name aloud. Write one line to them: “I thought of you today when…” If your loss isn’t connected to a person who died, you can write to the relationship, home, identity, or future you are grieving.

Keep it brief if that’s what feels right. You can pause, stop, or change the practice at any time. The point isn’t to feel a particular way. It’s to give your connection a little space.

A candle, a bowl of water, autumn leaves, and a small green sprig in a quiet still life

Reflection prompts

If writing helps, choose one prompt and give yourself a few unhurried minutes:

  1. What do I wish others understood about what I’m carrying this season?
  2. Which tradition feels comforting, and which one might I need to change?
  3. What is one memory I want to keep close, without needing to explain it?
  4. What would support look like for me at the next gathering?

Orpheus’s backward glance is often remembered as a loss. We might also see in it the human impulse to look toward what we love. This holiday season, remembering does not mean you are stuck. It may simply be one way your bond continues.

If you’d like support exploring grief, anxiety, relationships, or personal meaning, Lisa Tahir offers personal transformation therapy and holistic therapy online. Explore therapy services or schedule a session. You can also learn more about Lisa’s book, The Chiron Effect, and her Psychoastrology® healing insights at nolatherapy.com/chiron.

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Lisa Tahir, LCSW
New Orleans - Los Angeles
(504) 261-4443
lisa@nolatherapy.com