DESCRIPTION:
Reason on the trail of infinity: The fractal geometry of grief shows how philosophy helps us recognise patterns in pain – between logic and that which eludes understanding.

Five ways fractal geometry helps us understand grief and move on with our lives

Fractal geometry offers a fascinating and profound insight into the experience of loss. Instead of understanding grief as a linear process with clear phases, it opens up the possibility of understanding grief as a repetitive, multidimensional pattern. Mathematician Michael Frame, a close colleague of Benoît Mandelbrot (the founder of fractal geometry), describes grief as fractal: every new loss contains traces of previous losses – in the form of feelings, memories, images and meanings. Just like in a mathematical fractal, structures repeat themselves at different levels, in different sizes, but always in a similar form.

This perspective has enormous implications: it helps us to accept the apparent unpredictability and depth of grief without judging it as a relapse or disorder. Pain comes in waves – not because 'something is wrong', but because that is how our emotional landscape is structured. The fractal perspective allows us not only to endure these waves, but also to find orientation within them.

What it's all about:
This article highlights how mathematical patterns can help us understand emotional processes such as grief – not in an abstract way, but in concrete terms in everyday life. The following questions are the focus:

·         What exactly is a fractal – and what does it have to do with feelings?

·         How does the principle of self-similarity help us to better understand our own phases of grief?

·         Why does pain repeat itself – and what does that mean for processing loss?

·         How does our self-image change after a loss – and how does this give rise to a new narrative?

·         What role does beauty – in art, nature or memory – play in our ability to carry on living?

Those who no longer see grief as a "flaw in the system" but as an expression of a deeper pattern can accept it as part of their own experience – and remain connected, attentive and alive despite all their losses.

Fractals

Fractals are geometric figures characterised by their characteristic self-similarity on infinite scales. They often occur in nature and show how different natural forms are in a dialectical relationship with each other. In 21st-century science and philosophy, it is increasingly recognised that fractal structures can offer new approaches to looking at history and loss.

In the context of the geometry of grief, fractals can serve as an image to understand the complex process of reorientation after a loss. They lead us to reflect on the different types of reason and to transform the negative experience of loss into a positive one. A book about fractals could thus contain a chapter on the unity of loss and hope, with the sensuality of fractal forms inspiring us to see beauty in the infinite.

The connection between fractals and emotions

The connection between fractals and emotions lies in their common language: repetition, variation and depth. While fractals describe shapes in mathematics that are similar on different scales, on an emotional level they reflect our inner processes – especially in moments of great upheaval such as grief.

Emotions are rarely clearly defined or linear. They appear, disappear, return – sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker. They go through loops, build on previous experiences, overlap with other memories. Those who suffer a loss often feel not only the current pain, but also the echo of previous, similar feelings. This is precisely where the fractal quality of emotional experience lies.

Fractals help us to recognise this apparent disorder as a pattern – not in order to control it, but to acknowledge it. They offer a visual representation of how:

·         grief reactions can be structured in a similar way in different phases of life

·         emotional repetitions are not meaningless, but are more deeply connected

·         old wounds can be reactivated by new losses

Literature, mythology and psychology have repeatedly described how emotions work like spirals or waves – never completely new, but never completely the same either. Fractal geometry now provides a precise, almost scientific-poetic language for this.

This perspective makes it easier to understand oneself – not as emotionally unstable or "too sensitive", but as someone who feels in a dynamic, structured depth. In a world where rationality is often overrated, the fractal image offers a bridge: between mathematics and humanity, between structure and emotion.

Fractals show us that repetition is not failure – but part of a larger pattern. In the same way, grief can return, appear in loops, take on new meanings. And that is not only allowed, but deeply human.

The 'fractal geometry' of grief

The "fractal geometry" of grief is a powerful image that helps us better understand the contradictory and often confusing experience of loss. While many people assume that grief follows a fixed, linear path – for example, in five stages from shock to acceptance – experience shows something different: grief comes in waves, returns unexpectedly, changes shape and intertwines with older, long-suppressed feelings.

Fractals are geometric patterns that resemble themselves, regardless of the scale at which they are viewed. Every enlargement reveals the same structure, only in finer resolution. Applied to grief, this means that every new loss contains elements of past losses. Every grief reaction can trigger smaller, deeper grief processes. Memories of old losses resurface – not by chance, but because they are part of an overarching pattern.

Grief does not follow a straight line, but rather recursive loops.
A person who loses a close relative experiences not only the current pain, but also the echoes of previous separations – perhaps from childhood, from relationships or from other farewells. The intensity fluctuates, repeats itself, changes. But it follows an inner principle of self-similarity – just like a fractal.

This perspective invites us to view grief not as something "finished," but as a fluid, living system. It opens up space for:

·         more patience with yourself when old wounds reopen

·         a better understanding of why certain triggers have a disproportionate effect

·         the realisation that grief does not end, but transforms

Those who understand grief as a fractal pattern do not have to wait for "closure." Instead, a new relationship with loss emerges – one that allows for return without paralysis. In this way, people can learn to orient themselves in the movement of grief instead of fighting against it.

The image of fractal geometry opens up a new space for thinking about grief. It shifts the focus away from the idea of a curable "emotional defect" to the idea of an unfolding pattern that is both complex and deeply human. Michael Frame describes the fractal structure of grief not as a mere image, but as a real experience that many of those affected intuitively recognise – even without any prior knowledge of mathematics.

1. Self-similarity on different levels

In mathematics, self-similarity refers to the property of fractals to exhibit similar patterns at any scale, whether viewed from a distance or greatly enlarged. Applied to grief, this means that both small and large losses activate comparable emotional responses.

·         Moving out of your childhood home

·         The end of a friendship

·         The death of a parent

All these events touch on the same inner patterns: separation, uncertainty, loss of control, memory. But each of these experiences has its own tone. Each new loss echoes the previous ones – not identically, but in a similar way.

This creates an emotional landscape of recognisable feelings: the feeling of emptiness after the death of a loved one may have the same structure as the feeling of losing a pet in childhood – only with a deeper, more complex colouring. The repetition is not a repetition of the same thing, but a reappearance of something related.

2. No linear movement, but branching

Fractals do not grow in straight lines, but in loops and branches. Grief, too, does not proceed from A to B. It is branching, unpredictable, surprisingly retrospective.

You think you have overcome something – then a smell, a song or a place brings it all back. But that does not mean you are back "at the beginning". It means you have arrived at a different point in the same pattern.

This intertwining explains why people sometimes wonder about their reactions: "Why am I suddenly so sad again?" The answer lies not in a failure to process, but in the complex structure of emotional memory.

3. "Ongoingness" – the perpetual pattern

Frame describes grief as a kind of "endless zooming" into a fractal image. With each new experience, each new day, a new layer is revealed – and yet the pattern remains recognisable.

Life goes on – but not in a way that makes the grief disappear. Rather, it becomes part of a new pattern:

·         A photo on the fridge becomes a silent reminder

·         A recurring dream refers to an unresolved echo

·         A gesture that used to be shared by two people is continued in silence

The fractality is evident in the fact that the old does not disappear, but remains embedded – as part of the living whole. In this sense, 'healing' does not mean erasure, but integration.

4. Beauty and patterns as consolation

Fractals fascinate not only because of their mathematical structure, but also because of their aesthetic effect. Many people experience a mixture of calm, wonder and connectedness when looking at fractals.

Something similar happens when you begin to recognise the patterns of your own grief.

·         The recurring conversation with a deceased person in an inner monologue

·         The way a certain month makes you feel melancholic every year

·         The patterns in the alternation of pain and comfort

These repetitions are not mistakes. They are signs that the loss has found a place in your inner life. Beauty does not arise despite pain, but through recognising its form.

Grief as a living pattern

Loss leaves no clear contours. It does not draw a line between "before" and "after," but weaves itself into the fabric of our lives – irregular, permeable, unpredictable. The idea of fractal geometry allows us to visualise precisely this structure: grief is not a linear path to healing, but a living, unfolding pattern.

Like a fractal, grief unfolds in recurring forms that are similar but never identical. Memories emerge, change, return – not as copies, but as variations on a familiar theme. Pain does not lose its significance in this process, but it changes its form. What initially appears as a break becomes, in retrospect, a line in the pattern – painful, yes, but embedded.

This perspective fundamentally changes how we deal with loss:

·         We do not have to hope for an 'end' to grief

·         We can see return as development, not regression

·         We recognise a structure in repetition that provides support

Grief thus becomes something dynamic – not a shadow that haunts us, but a pattern that grows with us. This pattern changes, shifts, reminds us – and in doing so brings not only pain, but also depth, connection and a new kind of beauty.

The role of reason and infinity in grief

Grief is not just a feeling. It is an existential shock that challenges our thinking. Those who grieve are not only confronted with the loss of a loved one, but also with the confrontation of a world view – with the break in the familiar, with the finiteness of life and the silence of the world.

In this upheaval, two seemingly opposing forces meet: reason and infinity.

Reason tries to organise, understand and reconstruct. It asks why, what caused it, what it means. It searches for structures in which the loss can find a place. This is where the image of the fractal can be helpful – as a model that does not reduce complexity but makes it readable.

At the same time, grief confronts us with something that defies all reason: the infinity of loss. This infinity is not abstract, but concrete – it lies in the emptiness of a gaze, in a sentence that will never be spoken again, in the fact that something irreversible has happened. It is a void that cannot be filled – only understood, only circled.

It is in this tension that orientation arises:

·         reason provides structure and the ability to speak.

·         The experience of infinity opens up a space for humility, wonder, sometimes even comfort

·         Together, they form an attitude that neither clarifies nor despairs – but endures

Thus, grief does not lead us to an end, but to an edge – and this edge can become a beginning. Not in the sense that 'everything will be fine', but in the sense that something that has changed us continues.

Grief as reorientation

Every loss challenges our inner order. What was taken for granted yesterday seems strange or empty today. Grief forces us to see the world with new eyes – not of our own free will, but out of necessity. The death of a loved one, the end of a relationship, the loss of a life plan: all of these things change not only our external lives, but also our inner coordinates.

In this sense, grief is not purely an emotion, but a process of reorientation. We have to find out how our life will continue without the person or thing we have lost – who we are now, what we can hold on to, what still has meaning. As in fractal geometry, there is no definitive end point, but rather a new subpattern within the whole. Every attempt to reorient ourselves is both a return to the past and a tentative exploration of the unknown.

This dialectical movement – between memory and change, loss and new beginnings – shapes the grieving process. It makes it clear that we do not continue to live despite grief, but through it.

Grief as an ongoing process

Many people wish for an end to grief – a moment when "everything is fine again". But this hope is often based on a linear misunderstanding. Grief is not a state that can be "overcome", but an ongoing process that changes and lives on with us.

The philosopher Michael Frame speaks of the "ongoingness" of grief – a process that unfolds like a fractal. There is no clear separation between "mourning" and "normal life." Rather, new experiences, new relationships and new insights accumulate around the existing wound – without undoing it.

This ongoing movement does not require us to find a solution, but rather a willingness to understand:

·         The willingness to accept setbacks as part of the journey

·         The ability to give memories space without dwelling on them

·         The confidence that change is possible, even without erasing the pain

Those who understand grief in this way do not have to hope for a state of complete freedom from pain. Instead, a new form of vitality grows over time – fragile, but genuine.

The importance of self-reflection

Grief makes us vulnerable. But it also makes us attentive – to ourselves, to others, to what matters. This radical openness offers an opportunity for self-reflection.

Dealing with one's own grief does not just mean allowing feelings. It also means asking questions:

·         What exactly hurts – the loss of the person, the time spent together, a part of myself?

·         What beliefs about life, about control, about finitude are being shaken?

·         What remains when the familiar is gone?

These questions are uncomfortable – but necessary. Because they do not lead to paralysis, but to a new kind of clarity.

Self-reflection helps us find inner structure when everything outside is shaking. It can lead to different forms of reason – emotional, practical, existential. And sometimes it is precisely this new reason that allows us to live with grief without being overwhelmed by it.

Recognising changes in the grieving process

Grief changes. It becomes quieter, then louder again. It changes its form: from deep sadness to sudden anger, from paralysing emptiness to painful longing. These changes are not a sign of progress or regression – they are an expression of the living dynamics of a process that is never completely finished.

Mindfulness of these inner changes is crucial. Those who learn to observe their emotional landscape without immediately judging it gain flexibility.

·         Some feelings return cyclically – like spirals that lead deeper

·         Others seem to disappear – only to reappear in a different form

·         New forms of expression can emerge – writing, silence, dreams, conversations

Recognising these changes requires emotional literacy. And it is precisely this that helps us to live better with what cannot simply be 'resolved'.

Grief forces us to confront what we have lost and, , what remains. The process is not linear, but intertwined, repetitive and transformative. The combination of fractal geometry, psychological insight and philosophical reflection gives rise to a deeper understanding: grief is not a disorder – it is a living expression of our ability to feel, remember and change.

Beauty and patterns in grief

How beauty helps us stay connected

In the midst of grief, beauty can become a quiet but powerful anchor. It often appears unexpectedly – in a song, a ray of sunshine, a familiar gesture – and connects us to something greater than the pain. Beauty does not distract or cover anything up. On the contrary, it makes us aware that even in loss, something whole still resonates.

When we perceive beauty – in nature, in art, in the human face – we remember our capacity to be moved. Especially in grief, this vulnerability becomes a resource: it keeps us open, receptive, alive. It is as if beauty builds a bridge back to a world where we were still whole. Not to escape – but to become part of it again.

This openness requires inner work. It requires reason in its original sense – not cool rationality, but alert judgement. If you want to see beauty, you have to expose yourself to it. And when you expose yourself to it, you feel that connection is possible, even in pain.

Patterns of memory

Memories often follow their own laws. They are not linear, not complete, not objective – but they form patterns. Some of them repeat themselves: a smell that reminds us of childhood; a place that suddenly brings the voice of a deceased person to mind.

These patterns are not coincidences. They are the expression of a fractal memory – an inner fabric that links the past, the present and our feelings.

By recognising these patterns, we can give shape to our grief. Repetition provides stability, offers structure and gives depth to our memories. Within this framework, what was is not only mourned – it is preserved.

·         A song becomes a bridge between then and now

·         A photo album becomes a chronicle of the in-between

·         A ritual – be it candlelight or an inner conversation – becomes a living connection

In this way, memory does not become a burden, but rather a narrative trail that allows us to redefine our own place in loss.

Presence and absence

Grief is the experience of a dual reality: the loved one is gone – and yet present at the same time. This simultaneity seems paradoxical. But it is central to the grieving process.

We remember gestures, voices, glances – they appear in dreams, in moments of silence, in the rhythm of everyday life. This presence in absence is more than imagination. It is an expression of a continuing inner connection.

From a philosophical point of view, there is a profound truth in this: nothing that has truly had an effect disappears without a trace. Absence is real – it hurts, it leaves gaps. But presence remains – as a form, as an impression, as a relationship.

To endure this tension means

·         Not wanting to erase the loss

·         Rethinking the connection without denying it

·         Finding a way of dealing with the void that does not lead to denial, but to creation

·         In this movement – between memory and the present, between grief and attachment – something third emerges: an inner relationship that does not replace the deceased, but also does not let them slip away.

Understanding recursive emotions

What does it mean to have recursive emotions?

Recursive emotions are feelings that refer to previous emotional states – sometimes even to themselves. In grief, this means that we not only feel sadness, but we also suffer from being sad. We feel ashamed of our anger. We become anxious because our own helplessness disturbs us. Grief evokes not just one emotion, but entire layers of emotions that overlap and reinforce each other.

This emotional recursiveness is not a sign of psychological instability – on the contrary, it is an expression of awareness. Those who feel reflectively feel more complexly. But this is precisely where the difficulty lies: the cycle of grief over loss and grief over one's own reaction to loss can be paralysing.

What begins as a mere feeling becomes a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions:

·         "Why am I still so sad?"

·         "What's wrong with me?"

·         "Why can't I get out of this?"

Science – especially cognitive and emotional psychology research – has shown that such meta-feelings can intensify and distort our experience. But if we recognise them, we can learn to untangle them – step by step.

The influence of recursive emotions on grief management

Recursive emotions do not make grief more difficult because they are "unnatural" – but because they keep us in an inner circle of reasoning. Not only do we feel powerless, we also struggle with this powerlessness. We long for clarity – and are frustrated by the confusion.

This mechanism can cause grief to stagnate:

·         Emotions seem to repeat themselves for no reason

·         Thoughts revolve around the feeling of "not getting anywhere"

·         The pain seems absolute – as an end point, not a process

But this is precisely where new approaches open up: Postmodern philosophy – from Derrida to Lyotard – teaches us to question linear narratives. What if grief is not a path with a destination? What if meaning does not lie in closure, but in enduring contradictions?

From this perspective, recursive grief is not pathologised, but interpreted:

·         as a sign of inner movement

·         as an expression of deep attachment

·         as a legitimate expression of complexity

Those who think this way no longer seek the "right feeling," but rather an understanding of their own experience.

New perspectives on emotional experiences

Recursive emotions open up a space for self-reflection – and thus for transformation. Those who recognise that their own feelings are based on earlier emotions begin to see themselves not as flawed, but as multi-layered.

This creates space for compassion:

·         With one's own pain

·         With your own weaknesses

·         With the fact that grief has no end, but depth

This attitude gives rise to a new relationship with our own grief. Instead of "overcoming" it, we begin to accept it – with all its layers. We recognise that there is no clear before and after – but rather a changing inner pattern that shapes us and keeps us flexible at the same time.

This new perspective also allows for new goals: not "letting go," but integrating. Not "leaving behind," but taking with us in a changed form.

In this way, even recursion – the self-referential nature of feelings – does not become a prison, but a trail along which grief can be located. Not as a flaw in the system, but as an echo of a relationship that has been lived.

Five ways to reinterpret loss

Grief as a pattern that carries us forward

Losses shake our lives – but they do not erase them. When we stop viewing grief as a mistake or a deviation from the "normal" and instead recognise it as part of a changing pattern, a new way of dealing with pain emerges: less combative, more accepting. The idea of fractals – those self-similar, infinite patterns – offers a useful image for this. They show that repetitions are not steps backwards, but part of a larger context.

Here are five ways in which understanding patterns, relationships and change can help us find new approaches to dealing with loss.

1. Fractals as images of loss

Repetition as structure, not as error

Fractals reveal what also happens in our inner world: feelings resurface – not exactly the same, but in a familiar form. This repetition is not a sign of stagnation, but an expression of a recursive process in which earlier losses are embedded in new ones.

·         A recent bereavement reactivates childhood memories

·         Small farewells prepare us for larger ones

·         Emotions "quote" each other, but change their meaning

Reason helps us recognise these patterns – not analytically in the narrow sense, but in a structuring way. It provides orientation where pain and memory overlap. Those who think this way do not see grief as a loss of control, but as part of an unfolding pattern of life.

2. Steps towards emotional healing

Healing is not a goal, but a relationship

Emotional healing does not happen at the push of a button. It is a process with phases, feedback loops and breaks – like a growing fractal. Some steps are central to this process:

·         Allow what is: name feelings without judging them

·         Develop compassion – for yourself and your own imperfections

·         Reflect on your own history: Where does this pain come from?

·         Philosophical interpretation: not in the sense of comforting platitudes, but as a way of putting things into perspective

These steps open up spaces – not only for processing, but also for re-evaluation. The question is not "How do I get out of this?" but "How do I move forward in this?"

3. The role of community and support

Grief needs spaces to resonate

Pain becomes easier when it is heard. No one grieves completely alone – even in the loneliest grief, a relationship lives on. Talking to others who have been through similar experiences, the presence of someone who can bear silence – all of this can provide support.

·         Social resonance helps to put one's own emotions into perspective

·         The experience of not being alone has a stabilising effect

·         Professional support can help break destructive cycles

Science confirms what many intuitively feel: social connectedness has a healing effect. Not because it removes the pain, but because it shares it. In a fractal pattern, the connection to others becomes part of the new pattern that emerges after loss.

4. The geometric view of grief

Grief as a form in the whole of life

When we view grief through the lens of life geometry, its significance changes. It is not the end of a line, but part of a complex form – like a loop in a spiral that continues to move. Geometric structures show that even the irregular has order, even the imperfect has form.

·         Grief shows us that change has structure

·         Emotions connect the past, present and future

·         Our own history is not interrupted, but expanded

From this perspective, grief is not just endured, but understood as a creative force. This does not mean relativising loss, but embedding it in a larger picture.

5. The infinite possibilities of memory

Memory as a lived relationship

The deceased is no longer here – but they have not disappeared. The relationship lives on in memory, changed but still tangible. These memories are not a static archive, but a living web:

·         A song that gives you goose bumps

·         A scent that suddenly evokes images

·         A repeated ritual – lighting candles, a quiet greeting as you pass by

These forms of memory help us to transform the intangible into something tangible. They are like chapters in a book that never ends – not because it is incomplete, but because it continues to be written with each new day.

Memory is not a look back – it is a continuous movement in the pattern of life.

Conclusion: Recognising patterns means understanding humanity

Those who understand loss as part of a larger pattern also gain a new understanding of themselves. The fractal view of grief allows us to see repetition not as failure, but as deepening. Grief does not stand still – it grows, changes shape, opens up new spaces.

The five paths – through patterns, reflection, community, form and memory – do not lead "out" of grief, but right through it. And it is precisely where life shows its fractures that the depth of human experience becomes visible.

Thank you very much for this well-structured FAQ. I have revised the answers stylistically, condensed the language and sharpened the arguments – while retaining all the content and making the tone clearer, more accessible and at the same time more profound. In addition, the wording is more strongly oriented towards metaphorical language that makes the fractal geometry of grief understandable and vivid.

FAQ – The fractal geometry of grief

How does geometry influence the course of grief?
Grief does not follow a straight line, but rather recurring patterns. Over the course of a year, certain dates, rituals or memories can trigger emotional peaks – like nodes in the pattern. Fractal geometry makes it clear that such return movements are not setbacks, but part of a natural, cyclical process.

What is the role of reorientation in coping with grief?
Reorientation means realigning oneself in a changed world after loss. It is not a one-time step, but a repeated movement – comparable to a spiral path revolving around a centre. Those who grieve learn to relate to the gap in their own lives in new ways again and again.

How can fractal mathematics and grief be connected?
Fractal mathematics shows how complex patterns arise – through repetition, variation and self-similarity. Grief also follows such structures: similar feelings return, but never quite the same. Each phase of grief is a repetition at a different depth, on a different level. Fractals thus provide a meaningful model for emotional processes.

To what extent does the geometry of grief explain human emotions?
The geometry of grief reflects how emotions are intertwined, multi-layered and interconnected. Feelings are not isolated – they arise in the context of memories, relationships and networks of meaning. The fractal structure mirrors this emotional complexity and helps to make it understandable.

What traces does loss leave behind in the geometry of grief?
Losses leave permanent lines in the emotional space – comparable to inscriptions in a pattern. These traces manifest themselves in rituals, inner dialogues, changed routines and ways of thinking. They are part of the structure in which life reforms itself after loss.

How is grief processed over the years?
Grief changes its form – it becomes quieter, deeper, sometimes surprisingly present. The patterns repeat themselves, but in a different form. Those who grieve do not "carry on as before," but carry a changed inner pattern with them that takes on new meanings over the years.

What are the most important steps towards reorientation after a loss?
Reorientation includes acknowledging the pain, cherishing memories, seeking connection, developing new rituals and formulating new life goals. These steps form the first lines of a new pattern – not to erase the old one, but to integrate it in a sustainable way.

How can the geometry of grief be used in therapy?
In therapy, the fractal metaphor can be used to make grief processes tangible: through visual models, cyclical timelines, layers of memory or recurring emotional themes. This helps clients to understand phases of return not as failures, but as part of a larger context – and to situate their own story within it.

Glossary – terms relating to the fractal geometry of grief

The concept of grief – psychological and philosophical

Psychological
Grief is an emotional response to the loss of a significant person, object or purpose in life. It is neither pathological nor can it be concluded in fixed phases, but is an open process of adaptation. The goal is to integrate the loss into one's own life and restore the ability to act.

Philosophically
Grief is the confrontation with the limits of what can be said, understood and controlled. It represents the struggle with finitude, with the unattainable, with the void in our relationship to the world. It is an existential process in which people must redefine their relationship to loss – and to themselves.

Mathematical terms

Fractal
A fractal is a geometric structure characterised by self-similarity: its patterns repeat themselves on different scales – the closer you look, the more details with similar shapes emerge. In the metaphor of grief, fractals symbolise the recurring but varying emotional patterns in the grieving process.

Self-similarity
The principle that parts of a whole are structurally similar to the whole. Applied to emotional processes, this means that small and large losses can trigger similar emotional patterns – with varying depth and intensity.

Recursion
A recursive process refers to itself or repeats itself with internal references. In mathematics, recursion is a process in which a function calls itself. From an emotional perspective, it describes processes in which feelings (e.g. grief over one's own grief) intertwine and become nested.

Iteration
The repeated execution of a process with a different starting point each time. In relation to grief, iteration describes the repeated experience of similar emotional phases with constantly changing meanings or evaluations.

Topology
A mathematical concept that deals with the relationships and properties of spaces that remain unchanged under stretching and distortion. Applied to psychological experience, it means that even when the form of our lives changes, certain structures of connection remain.

Philosophical terms

Reason
In the philosophical sense, reason is more than logic or rationality. It is the ability to understand oneself and the world, to create meaning and to navigate between contradictory experiences. In grief, reason refers to the attempt to give what one has experienced a place in one's own world view.

Infinity
A term that transcends what is limited, countable or completely comprehensible. In the experience of loss, infinity often encounters us negatively: as infinite emptiness, irreversible absence. At the same time, it can be experienced as amazement at the continuing effect of memory or love.

Dialectic
A philosophical model of thinking in which opposites are not resolved but are considered productively in their tension. In grief, this means that presence and absence, pain and beauty, holding on and letting go are not mutually exclusive but are interdependent.

Existence
In the sense of existential philosophy, human life is characterised by its finitude. Grief is an existential experience because it confronts us with the fragility of the self, time and the world.

Ongoingness
A term used by Michael Frame in analogy to fractal geometry: grief does not end, but changes and interweaves with new life structures. Life does not go on after grief – it goes on with it.

Psychological terms

Emotional recursion
The phenomenon whereby one emotion is followed by another that relates to the first – such as fear of one's own sadness or shame about one's own suffering. Such nested layers of emotion make orientation difficult, but can also contribute to self-clarification.

Self-compassion
The ability to treat oneself with kindness, understanding and patience – especially in moments of weakness or pain. Self-compassion is an important factor in resilience when dealing with grief.

Narrative identity
The psychological concept that people shape their self-image by telling their life story. The loss of a loved one interrupts this narrative. Grief work involves finding a new story in which the deceased has a lasting place.

Related

Why does even the deepest grief subside? Psychological and neuroscientific insights