Tag: grief and the enneagram

Grief & The Enneagram Part III: Guest Post by Mandy Capehart

Grief & The Enneagram Part III: Guest Post by Mandy Capehart

Posted on by melissakircher
“We have a choice in grief (and life) to encounter resistance with swords, anger, and all the spitfire within us. Or we can recognize a shift in our external lives as a chance to soften and surrender. As much as it pains me to affirm this, we are not in control of the world around us. We are only in control of how we navigate the waves from the helm of our ship.” – Mandy Capehart

It’s the final chapter of this three-part grief and Enneagram series! So far we’ve explored how grief and Enneagram shadow work are very similar in their approach and application. In both instances, we wrestle with the unknown sides of life that indicate unacknowledged pain, confusion, or disruption to our path forward. Effective grief and Enneagram work provides a framework for understanding ourselves and embracing new ways of thinking about our lives and circumstances. The more we learn, the more we realize we are unique individuals. The nuance of our individuality causes our grief journey to be like a fingerprint. Even when some stereotypes apply, there is always a part of our spirit that needs a little more intention.

This journey allows us to cultivate the compassion needed to find movement through our pain. As you embrace the truth of grief in your life, you may find that learning more about your Enneagram type provides extra support.

Today, we’ll unpack Type Seven, Eight, and Nine misconceptions and how they can lead us to incorrect assumptions about how we “should” feel and move through our grief stories. What works for one person doesn’t necessarily work for all. We can reckon with the stereotypical reactions in our enneagram types that act as easy excuses to avoid the deeper, more intimate work of pursuing healing in our grief.

Type Seven

Type Sevens are all about chasing down a vibrant life, but their fear of pain and discomfort becomes front and center in grief. Their avoidant and coping behaviors shift into fifth gear, working overtime to keep the tender-hearted, overthinking Seven safe from emotional turmoil.

Grief and loss can amplify excitability, which feels dismissive and scary to observe. While most Sevens have animated, flighty, disconnected sides, Type Sevens can also be serious, quiet, and introverted.

When Sevens show their depth, people start to ask, “Are you okay?” yet have no idea what to do. Experiencing grief does not mean that a person needs distractions and adventures to heal; they need to be seen as valuable and worthy of love and attention, even when sad and heavyhearted.

The Sevens who know they are safe to fall apart and not demonstrate exuberance all the time will become one of the most loyal, committed, dedicated friends – especially if you’ve walked alongside them through one of the most emotionally trying times in their lives.

Type Eight

Type Eights probably seem least likely to deal well with grief, and that assumption is not too far off. For the average Eight, grief stirs up vulnerability and lack of control in the worst way possible. Eights see grief as just another mountain to overcome and can easily stuff the grief-y feelings to lead and demonstrate command – business as usual comes naturally to the Eight.

But the truth is, Eights need to let go more than any other number. Hidden within vulnerability is a true strength to lead. When Type Eights are grieving, we see their leadership style become more erratic, anxious, and detached. They’ve created another wall to protect themselves from appearing weak or incapable.

On the flip side, when Eights view their grief as an adversary worth challenging, they invite the difficult conversations with patience and grace. After the battle is waged, Eights begin to view grief as a constant truth of life and not an enemy.

These integrated, tender-hearted Eights look softer, kind, and invitational. They’ll start to ask for help because they’ve learned grief will not be strong-armed or intimidated to flee. These challengers know not all battles are meant to be won, but that also doesn’t mean you’ve lost.

Type Nine

Type Nines might seem like the most willing to hear your grief story and unpack the pain with you, but the truth is this number usually needs to retreat into their own pain, not carry yours. Nines are quick to protect their energy. Dealing with the grief of others is an excellent way to use their energy and avoid dealing with their own.

But when Nines decide to honor their boundaries, they suddenly become available to their pain. Independent of the opinion of others, they start to disentangle their mess of emotions and intense avoidance behaviors. Nines feel empowered; their grief is no longer an enemy but a familiar presence that does not make them want to run and hide.

Average Nines need quiet and rest, while integrated Nines are authoritative, calm, and even cheeky in their healing process. They know they can use their stillness and withdrawal as a source of strength and, in doing so, bring that level of stability to others for support. This becomes an energy reserve that doesn’t drain but invigorates. True peace ensues for all when Nines intentionally move toward stressful or grief-y situations instead of falling into them and hiding for days to follow.

Mandy Capehart is an author, speaker, and certified grief and life coach in the Pacific Northwest. She is the founder of The Restorative Grief Project, an online community of grievers and grief supporters looking for movement while they heal. Her first book is titled, “Restorative Grief: Embracing our losses without losing ourselves,” released in 2021. This is a memoir and a 31-day guidebook for managing grief and growth in the aftermath of loss, no matter how long it lasts. You can hear more about her grief work on her podcast, Restorative Grief with Mandy Capehart. She also co-hosts The Uncomfortable Grace Podcast, where space is held for growth amid the messy middle parts of life.

Follow Mandy on Twitter at @MandyCapehart

Follow Mandy on Instagram at @mandycapehart

Grief & The Enneagram Part II: Guest Post by Mandy Capehart

Grief & The Enneagram Part II: Guest Post by Mandy Capehart

Posted on by melissakircher

Welcome back to this three-part grief and Enneagram series. To summarize why this series is so important let’s revisit an excerpt from the last post:

“Grief and Enneagram shadow work are very similar in their approach and application. In both instances, we wrestle with the unknown sides of life that indicate unacknowledged pain, confusion, or disruption to our path forward. Effective grief and Enneagram work provides a framework for understanding ourselves and embracing new ways of thinking about our lives and circumstances. The more we learn, the more we realize we are unique individuals. The nuance of our individuality causes our grief journey to be like a fingerprint. Even when some stereotypes apply, there is always a part of our spirit that needs a little more intention.

This journey allows us to cultivate the compassion needed to find movement through our pain. As you embrace the truth of grief in your life, you may find that learning more about your Enneagram type provides extra support.”

Today, I want to unpack three more type misconceptions and how they can lead us to incorrect assumptions about how we “should” feel and move through our grief stories. We already know that what works for one person doesn’t necessarily work for all. We can reckon with the stereotypical reactions in our enneagram types that act as easy excuses to avoid the deeper, more intimate work of pursuing healing in our grief.

Type Four

Type Fours are known for being comfortable with melancholy and conflicting emotions and are often wonderful people for grievers to speak with when their own hearts cannot figure out how to survive a heavy loss.

Fours believe they are fundamentally different, which, in grief, can also lead them to spiral down a road of overthinking. They try to sort their emotions into a grief identity that makes sense yet remains unique.

But what we don’t often see in Type Fours is the propensity for forward motion. Grief is not about learning to move on; it’s about integrating our losses into our identity in a way that allows us to become more nuanced, intentional, and whole. There is no one more adept at adjusting to big, heavy emotions in an integrative way than Fours.

When they live in their heart center, Fours become witty, clever, insightful, and clear-minded. They work through grief productively, thinking intentionally rather than in a circular way. As a result, Fours begin to spiral upward with high energy and healing for themselves and others.

Type Five

Type Fives are full of wisdom, depth, and intelligence. They look for depth with each question, perfectly delighted to chase ideas down whatever obscure path they find. Because Fives are typically introspective and thoughtful, we assume that grief is something they’ve sorted out. Perhaps Fives have learned how to detach from the pain and therefore experience no grief at all?

Not true. What really happens for a grieving Type Five is that their mental wheels spin faster than ever. You may perceive them as cold and calculated, yet Fives are truly empathetic, deeply attuned people. They search for answers to relieve suffering or lack, but that’s not something available in grief. Not truly.

When Fives are able to become embodied – really connecting to the center of who they are – they will find strength outside of knowledge. Type Fives who allow themselves to take action toward reintegration of their whole selves become authoritative, confident, and compassionate to others and themselves.

Once Type Fives accept a thoughtful path toward healing for themselves, they will become the leaders you always suspected they could become. Their emotional side will surface with intention and grounding, leading others to heal, as well.

Type Six

Type Sixes aren’t strangers to thinking about grief – in fact, Sixes are hyper-aware of potential grief events and do all they can to minimize possible loss before it happens. Once introduced to their story, grief drives secure, steady Sixes into overdrive for resolution.

Then, natural cynicism surfaces, affirming their belief that all things are inherently untrustworthy. This draws Type Sixes further away from integration, where they would experience a settled spirit and an understanding of their secure place in the world, even when threatened by grief.

However, when Sixes embrace grief as truth, they gain new insight about the facts of their life circumstances. They acknowledge their lack of control in loss and recognize the grief in their life is not the end of the story. As they begin healing, their lighthearted, confident nature emerges.

Grief changes Sixes for the better, so long as they process their experiences as survivable. Not in a “What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger” platitude way, but through gaining soul-deep, inherent wisdom about the nature of life and loss.

Type Sixes long to express their free-spirited, lighthearted, fun side. When grief doesn’t destroy them, Sixes learn they can find a way to trust others and survive the most intimidating pain because life is so much richer than navigating around fear.

Mandy Capehart is an author, speaker, and certified grief and life coach in the Pacific Northwest. She is the founder of The Restorative Grief Project, an online community of grievers and grief supporters looking for movement while they heal. Her first book is titled, “Restorative Grief: Embracing our losses without losing ourselves,” released in 2021. This is a memoir and 31 day guidebook for managing grief and growth in the aftermath of loss, no matter how long it lasts. You can hear more about her grief work on her podcast, Restorative Grief with Mandy Capehart. She also co-hosts The Uncomfortable Grace Podcast, where space is held for growth amid the messy middle-parts of life.

Grief & The Enneagram Part I: Guest Post by Mandy Capehart

Grief & The Enneagram Part I: Guest Post by Mandy Capehart

Posted on by melissakircher

Grief work is not easy. We assume those who grieve are sad all the time, wallowing in their feelings and crying over every reminder of their loss. Often, grievers feel avoided and ignored because no one wants to accidentally make the griever feel worse. The same is true of the Enneagram – when a friend knows your Enneagram type, you may find they behave differently based on what they expect you to do or say in response. 

While this can be frustrating, getting to know ourselves better is the only way to disarm these harmful and dismissive assumptions. Grief and Enneagram shadow work are very similar in their approach and application. In both instances, we wrestle with the unknown sides of life that indicate unacknowledged pain, confusion, or disruption to our path forward.

Effective grief and Enneagram work provides a framework for understanding ourselves and embracing new ways of thinking about our lives and circumstances. The more we learn, the more we realize we are unique individuals. The nuance of our individuality causes our grief journey to be like a fingerprint. Even when some stereotypes apply, there is always a part of our spirit that needs a little more intention.

This journey allows us to cultivate the compassion needed to find movement through our pain. As you embrace the truth of grief in your life, you may find that learning more about your Enneagram type provides extra support.

Today, I want to unpack type misconceptions and how they can lead us to incorrect assumptions about how we “should” feel and move through our grief stories. We already know that what works for one person doesn’t necessarily work for all. We can reckon with the stereotypical reactions in our enneagram types that act as easy excuses to avoid the deeper, more intimate work of pursuing healing in our grief.

Type One

Type Ones are often perceived as hard, black and white, and intense. They’re known for their strict boundaries and their ever-present inner critic keeping them on track (and held back). 

In grief, this can look like the person chasing down justice for themselves, trying to find the right way to grieve. But no right way exists, and there is often no real justice for the loss we experience. We have no one to blame, so we tend to blame ourselves. If only we could have found a better path, or made better decisions, maybe we wouldn’t be feeling this much pain.

Yet, Type One’s have access to lightheartedness and a playful demeanor. These integration characteristics will move them through melancholic overthinking and onto a path of restoration. When a Type One embraces the unknown with an expectation of warmth on the other end, they can begin to release their rigid expectations of doing grief “correctly.”

Grievers know two emotions can exist at the same time – because there is gray space in life. When a Type One recognizes ambiguity, their laughter returns, despite sad feelings that remain. And this is the path forward.

Type Two

Type Twos are known for being selfless, casual, and willing to set all their needs aside for the well-being of others. They keep their own emotions close to the vest with an intent to serve — which masks their sense of self.

This can mean they don’t actually grieve! Don’t get me wrong, Twos feel deeply and experience grief personally in their lives. But grief itself and the act of grieving are wildly different, and most of the time, Twos can’t move beyond their default coping mechanism of caring for others.

When Type Twos see the truth that their serving is a safety net, things will shift. They become more introspective and introverted, choosing to move toward their own sense of need and healing in a way that disarms the manic energy to serve others.

This integrated Two becomes a total Zen-master, learning how to engage their inner world with the insight and compassion typically reserved for others. From here, they can teach others how to do the same without needing to do it for them. They release the desire to control or manipulate and instead learn to let themselves and others feel their feelings — even when they’re sad.

Type Three

Type Threes are passionate, externally focused, driven, charismatic, and positive. However, the changing masks of a Three make it harder for their genuine emotions to surface. In seasons of grief, this becomes more evident.

Threes need to know they are safe to fall apart, and that level of trust doesn’t come easily. So many Threes will convince others and themselves they’re doing fine. Barely impacted at all, even. Sure, grief is sad, and, like everyone else, they feel sad about the loss. But for the most part, a Three may seem even-keeled and smooth as glass on the outside.

Internally, however, a war is waging. Type Threes who learn to engage their repressed emotions and feel intentionally can be incredibly supportive and loving to themselves and others. Threes are usually supportive, but learning to authentically and honestly support themselves means they also have to drop the act of having it together all the time.

Emotionally healthy Threes will be honest with their safe few when they are overwhelmed, grieving, and need help. The hard part for grieving Threes is that while they believe their masks are intact, everyone else can see the facade cracking. The pressure of loss is too heavy to bear alone, and a Three can move into a place of cooperation for their own healing when the atmosphere is safe enough.

Part 2 & 3 Coming Soon!

Mandy Capehart is an author, speaker, and certified grief and life coach in the Pacific Northwest. She is the founder of The Restorative Grief Project, an online community of grievers and grief supporters looking for movement while they heal. Her first book is titled, “Restorative Grief: Embracing our losses without losing ourselves,” released in 2021. This is a memoir and 31 day guidebook for managing grief and growth in the aftermath of loss, no matter how long it lasts. You can hear more about her grief work on her podcast, Restorative Grief with Mandy Capehart. She also co-hosts The Uncomfortable Grace Podcast, where space is held for growth amid the messy middle-parts of life.