Would you go a grief rave?

This morning, my mother sent me a text message asking me what I was going to do today. My response was a simple one, that I am considering turning into a catch phrase. My response?

As little as possible.

It is Saturday here today, and apart from a basket of dirty laundry sitting in the bedroom, there's not a lot to do around the house. It is amazing how much you get done in terms of house work when you don't have a day job to do.

My "little as possible", however doesn't stop at sitting on a phone or a computer idly scrolling through memes or shorts. I hate shorts (but I do love wearing them). I do love memes. I am guilty of a bit of a doom scroll, and after taking a look at my various hive feeds this morning and not seeing anything that jumped out to be with a compelling reason to engage, I guiltily began a doom scroll.

But due to that doom scroll, I found something that I never thought I'd find. This post brings it your attention, too, I hope.

An article by David Burton on Arts Hub talks about the notion of the "grief rave" which is an interesting concept.

_{AI image Prompt: create a 16:9 image of a grim reaper at a rave party in the style of the pre-raphaelites}

Groups of strangers bring along a piece of music, and they're played in a club style environment - but with a twist - during the day, all ages, and with... grief counsellors on site. No talking (beyond whatever shouting you do into the ear of the people you encounter, I gather...) just like a concert, but you're there to grieve.

For some reason, this article uses COVID-19 as the cause of "alternative" methods of grief emerging; but provides little food for thought.

We all experienced loss during those times. Whether it was the direct loss of a loved one, or the loss of some sort of social function or cohesion, or in the case of many of my friends - the transformation of higher education and the rending of all the social aspects that emerge from a traditional, in-person campus setting.

When people don't know how to process relationships, they surely will not, and cannot be prepared for whatever it is that conventional grief is - as far ranging and diverse as that is across human culture. This to me resonates with a number of things.

The idea of grief and mourning is simply that of processing the absence of presence. If we wait for grief to truly value that which is absent, why should we not venerate that which we value while it is present?

I remember watching, of all things, a Formula 1 broadcast where one of the presenters, Martin Brundle, and his co-hosts; were discussing the loss of a former Formula 1 great. Brundle, born in 1959 raced cars for a lot of his life. He lived on the edge of death for much of his racing life, having serious injuries that could have left him disfigured.

_{Martin Brundle image from PlanetF1}

On talking of the person passed away, he said (and I'm paraphrasing) -

Eulogies are such hateful things. We should really tell people how we feel while they're still around to hear it.

So, mourning is for those left behind, and if people want to do it at a grief disco, or turn a wake into a mosh-pit infused party. That's fine. All I ask is that someone plays both No Choir by Florence and the Machine in addition to Descend the Shades of Night by Machine Head.

These are both songs best explained by listening to them, but the lyrical elements that appeal most to me, first from Machine Head, are:

Descend the shades of night
Death shines her golden light
Across a blackened sky

And from Florence - its pretty much the entire song, which I won't repeat here, instead, I'll just give you a link.

While neither of these tracks are the sorts of things you'd hear at a rave party, if its a "grief rave" - why can't we indulge in, and subject people to whatever the crap we want?

Or is the act of hearing the songs that mean things to others, beside others, in a shared environment, outside of the normal context of a funeral, something that enables better coping and healing for the survivors?

Just as graveyards, gravestones and monuments are there for the living (and ... to a large extent, public health) (and a close second and tertiary function of backdrops for zombie films, goth brooding and other Halloween themed proceedings) - grief is not for the dead, but for the living.

So, as I've asked previously - what would you want people to hear at your funeral (grief rave)?

Is there a piece of music that reminds you of a loved one, that helps you process their presence, or absence, or the way they behaved or acted out in a memorable moment?

Tell me your stories.