Grief and the Wind Phone

Grief is a profound emotional response to loss, which includes feelings of sadness, despair, and longing. It's a natural and universal experience that can arise from various losses such as the death of a loved one, the end of a relationship, or even the loss of a job or a dream.

Grieving involves a complex process of adjusting to life without what was lost, navigating through stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and eventually acceptance. It's a deeply personal journey that varies widely among individuals, influenced by cultural norms, personal beliefs, and the nature of the loss itself.

For me, it was my soul dog. He was the one constant in my life through extremely turbulent times that I could always count on for 14 years of unconditional love. No matter how tired or kicked around I felt (and looked!), my baby boy would always be there to make me laugh and feel loved. His loss was a devastating blow that changed the trajectory of my life.

I lost him in 2020 right at the height of COVID.

When I had the opportunity to talk about him and share my grief with friends and even strangers, the number of people that reciprocated by telling me their personal stories helped me feel supported and connected through our shared grief. It wasn’t a suffering Olympics game, it was being able to hear the love in their recollections and knowing I wasn’t alone in how I felt (or crazy because it was “just a pet.")

But where do we go, when we have unspoken grief or trapped love that needs to be communicated?

Kaze no denwa

I’m not sure if you’ve ever heard of a wind phone, when I discovered this concept, I had to share it with you:

A wind phone is a concept originating from Japan which typically look like old-fashioned telephone booths or structures, set up in serene, natural settings such as gardens, hillsides, or coastlines. The idea behind a wind phone is to provide a place where people can go to connect with lost loved ones or to express their grief, thoughts, and emotions.

Created in 2010, Japanese garden designer Itaru Sasaki set up an old-fashioned phone booth in his garden with an unconnected rotary phone inside. His goal was to connect with a cousin he lost to terminal caner. It was a way to stay in touch and release his grief.

Visitors to a wind phone are encouraged to pick up the receiver, speak into it, and share their feelings, memories, or messages with those they have lost. Or even with receiver in hand, if no words come, to trust that your heart will “speak” and your message still carried, even if shared silently. It serves as a therapeutic outlet for grieving individuals, offering a sense of comfort and closure through the act of verbalizing their emotions. The name "wind phone" symbolizes the idea that our words are carried away by the wind to reach our loved ones in another realm.

The thing about grief is it’s messy, it feels like garbage and sometimes like a burden so many of us try to bear alone. Friends and family can feel helpless and uncomfortable witnessing our grief, they may try to lift us up through well worn cliches, or worse, distance themselves. Our society hasn’t arrived in a place where, as a part of social literacy, we discuss difficult topics such death and how to support each other through these situations.

There’s something special about the wind phone that differs from writing a letter. I’m an introvert so writing allows me time to brain dump, pause, filter, think and edit. When talking with others, sometimes I get stumped because I wonder what they might be thinking as I’m speaking, “oh God am I boring this person, or awkward again? Time to change topics”. But changing mediums such as writing vs speaking or dancing versus drawing, changes the parts of the brain that processes information. I’ve heard myself say things that surprised me. In my day to day job, I listen to people, so it’s a skill I apply in relationship with others. When I listen to some of the things that tumble out of my mouth, it’s like those words said aloud into the (public) space make that thought more “real,” like a dragon to be slayed…or hugged.

Perhaps I’ve spent too many years being “comfortable” with my thoughts and this is why the wind phone works so well for me. Sometimes my thoughts aren’t ready to be shared aloud with a friend or therapist for whatever reason. Fear of judgement, fear of shame or embarrassment. I find speaking to a photo or aloud to an empty room makes me feel kinda crazy, but if I pick up the phone to talk to my lost loved one, it feels right.

If you are struggling with grief please reach out, ask for help, talk to an experienced professional that can guide you through the process. You're not alone.