We have dance parties in the living room. Not to make everything better—just to shake off some of the heaviness. Jonah won’t always talk about how he feels, but he’ll move.
You don’t have to think of it as a grief strategy. Just know it works.
Later, when I started writing and learning more, I saw how common that was. Movement can shift things for kids in ways words can’t. Especially when sadness is stuck in the body. It gives the feeling somewhere to go.
What Movement Does to Grieving Kids
Grief doesn’t just sit in the heart—it lands in the body. I didn’t know that at first. I just saw Jonah get tense. Fidgety. Like his body was holding something too big to sit still with. Sometimes he’d bounce his legs or twist around on the couch for an hour, and I realized that sadness wasn’t just emotional—it was physical.
That’s where dance came in. It wasn’t planned. We didn’t call it therapy. We just moved. And over time, I began to understand how much that mattered.
Movement helps release tension—literally. When kids are sad, angry, or confused, that doesn’t just show up in tears. It shows up in tight shoulders, clenched jaws, jittery hands. Full Circle Grief Center explains how rhythmic movement helps the nervous system downshift, giving the body a sense of safety.
And sometimes it’s about expression. Kids don’t always have the words. But they’ll jump, spin, stomp—whatever matches how they feel. That kind of nonverbal expression is powerful. Creative Arts Therapy Source shares how dance becomes a kind of language, especially when sadness gets stuck.
It also helps with regulation. Even just five or ten minutes of movement—especially to music—can bring anxiety down. One thesis from Lesley University talks about how dance activates the calming side of the nervous system, which is something grief tends to shut down.
And connection matters, too. When we dance together—me and Jonah—it isn’t about cheering up. It was about not being alone in the sadness. We mirrored each other, took turns leading, sometimes collapsed on the floor laughing. That kind of shared movement builds closeness. Inspire Counseling calls it co-regulation. I just call it being there.
What the Research Says
As I’ve learned more, I keep coming back to something called Dance/Movement Therapy, or DMT. It’s not about learning routines or choreography. It’s about using movement—any movement—as a way to feel and express things the body might be holding onto. According to Creative Arts Therapy Source, it’s especially useful for kids who don’t have the words for what they’re feeling. Which, in grief, is often.
One study I found looked at how movement works in small groups of children around Jonah’s age. The kids were between 5 and 7 and had all experienced a loss. Group movement helped them connect, regulate their emotions, and feel more comfortable being themselves in the middle of it all (Lesley University).
There’s also something really healing about reconnecting with the body after grief. A lot of children go inward—quiet, disconnected. Movement gently brings them back. It’s not about fixing. It’s not even about “talking through” the sadness. Sometimes it’s just putting music on and letting the feeling come out however it needs to. That’s what Inspire Counseling recommends—dance parties, games, or even just bouncing around the room in a way that feels good. It’s not about skill. It’s not about getting it right. It’s about giving their bodies a safe place to move the grief.
Try This: Simple Ways to Use Movement in Grief
You don’t need a plan. Or training. Or perfect music. Sometimes just turning something on and moving is enough.
At our house, it started with spontaneous dance parties. Jonah would be quiet or cranky or restless, and I’d put on music we both liked. Nothing choreographed. Just dancing in the kitchen, spinning in socks, flopping on the floor. Some days it was silly. Other days it felt like shaking something heavy off. That’s why I created the Dance Party activity on our site—it’s not about being upbeat. It’s about letting the body move grief through.
There are other ways too. Mirroring movements—where you copy each other gently, back and forth—can be grounding. Tapping feet in rhythm. Swaying together in a circle. These simple group movements help kids feel safe and not so alone.
Slower movement works too. Breathing and stretching. Reaching arms to the sky. Sinking into your knees. It’s not big or flashy, but for some kids it brings the nervous system back down—makes their body feel more like home again.
The point isn’t to cheer up. It’s to move with the sadness. To let the body carry some of what words can’t hold.
Movement helps children release what they’re carrying physically, not just emotionally. It gives them space to feel, space to connect, and a moment of joy in the middle of everything else.
Also, I highly recommend adding glowsticks. 🙂
You can explore more ideas like this on my Coping Activities page.
