Michelle Albert: My journey with mindfulness
How mindfulness has helped me with the grief of losing both my parents
“Being in nature grounded me, especially when my thoughts were spiralling. It became a safe space where I could face my feelings”.
Michelle Albert, Resilience Programmes Facilitator at Kaplan International Languages, describes how mindfulness supported her with the overwhelming grief she experienced after losing first her father and then her mother a few years later.
This blog post is written by Michelle Albert and edited by Tamsin Bishton for the blog series “My journey with mindfulness”. Michelle is a volunteer Advocate for the Sussex Mindfulness Centre.
I turned to mindfulness when I needed to grieve for my dad
I’ve always described my relationship with mindfulness as the difference between coping and not coping. Like many, I came to this path at a point in life where I needed healing. I’d spent the majority of my adult life on autopilot, constantly doing and never just being— and I was learning that my hyper-independence was less a badge of honour and more a trauma response.
But when my dad passed away two years ago, I found myself leaning more towards mindfulness practices. Without doubt, mindfulness tools are what helped me navigate grief.
Was I meditating on a mountaintop at sunrise or sitting cross-legged for hours on end? Did I empty my mind of thoughts? Did I push away my sadness and negative feelings and pretend they didn’t exist?
No, no, and no again.
Regular mindfulness practice deepens your self-awareness. It helps you recognise what you need, how you’re feeling, and what might be useful in any given moment.
The first few months after my dad passed felt incredibly heavy. Suddenly, I was thrust into the role of chief death-admin officer—organising everything, making every decision. I was still trying to be a strong mum for my children and a strong daughter for my mum. I hid my grief so that they wouldn’t have to be strong for me. I wanted them to have the space to freely express their grief for their grandad and husband, while I remained the tower of strength they all needed.
But when the admin-of-death and funeral planning were over, the door was left open for grief to step through — and it brought with it a deep, lingering sadness. I carried it with me every day like a dark, heavy, invisible cloud. The secret crying in my car got longer and louder. And I was tired.
It was time to delve into my resilience toolkit.
How mindfulness helped me work through my grief
Through mindfulness, I gave myself permission to check in with myself — to be honest about how I was feeling. I started to acknowledge all of my emotions without judgement. Being strong all the time was breaking me, and I was on a fast track to burnout. I needed to rebuild my resilience, to find a way to balance out all the sadness I was carrying.
The only way I felt I could do that was by cultivating joy. But how do you cultivate joy when life feels heavy, challenging, and frankly joyless?
So I started journalling again — more specifically, gratitude journalling. It helped me find small glimmers of light in a very dark time. I started with a list — a happiness list — of all the things that made me feel good. Small things like doing my makeup daily or getting my nails done. Childhood hobbies I’d long abandoned, like colouring, painting, and writing. And bigger things like travel, which took some planning. And I didn’t just write them down — I started doing them, regularly.
Mindful walking became a regular practice. Not the hurried kind you do when you’re taking the dog out, but intentional, phone-away walks where I could just be present. Being in nature grounded me, especially when my thoughts were spiralling. It became a safe space where I could face my feelings — not judging them, not pushing them away — just noticing what was there.
As a facilitator of a mindfulness-based resilience programme for students and staff in my work, I never shy away from sharing during gratitude week, because gratitude is the way I choose to live my life. Through grief, I learned to find the glimmers and express gratitude. It’s the part of mindfulness that always speaks to me most — and the practice that has helped me the most in my healing journey.
Deepening my practice with deeper grief
For two years, I worked through grief, healing, rebuilding, grounding, and becoming more present. Then, six months ago, my mum passed away — challenging me to navigate grief in a completely different way from the first time.
Burnout came visiting again, but this time it brought a friend: overwhelm. They slipped through the door I’d left ajar. Structured mindfulness practice felt incredibly difficult, as did cultivating joy. This grief was different and required different tools.
So I went back to basics: regular mindful check-ins, acknowledging and allowing every feeling. I experimented with different practices — even ones that had never felt natural to me before, like mindful movement. Different things worked at different times — and that, really, is the beauty of mindfulness.
Its adaptiveness.
Its compassion.
Its gentle reminder that there are many paths to presence.
I’ve never seen mindfulness as something that makes everything better. For me, it has always been the thing that helps me cope better.
The difference between coping and not coping.
Join a free taster
If you’re interested in learning mindfulness for yourself, then please do come along to one of Sussex Mindfulness Centre’s taster sessions. They’re free. You get to experience a practice as well as hear a little bit more about what’s involved in the various mindfulness courses that we offer. Most of our courses are online and can be booked by individuals.
And if you would like to share the magic you can join a free online teacher training information session. Or if you’d like to find out more about becoming an advocate check out our Advocates page.