Finding Rest and Renewal In A Troubled Summer

Summer is often portrayed as a carefree season of respite, renewal, and abundance, a much-anticipated reward for enduring the toils and hardships of winter. But as pandemic numbers rise along with societal tensions and oppressive Piedmont heat, your experience probably stands in stark contrast to this happy idealization of what summer is supposed to be. You may be feeling anything but summery right now.

Instead of feeling carefree, you may be heavy-hearted with your own grief or deeply affected by the suffering of others. Instead of enjoying respite, you may be exhausted from your efforts to cope with more of the same month after month, with the daunting realization of many months to come. Instead of finding renewal, you may be feeling stuck, powerless, helpless to make even desired change happen. Instead of experiencing abundance, you may be chafing at the limits of everyday life in a constricted and confusing world.

How can we create a bit of summer in the midst of such challenges? How can we find moments of respite, renewal, even abundance? As a grief counselor, I often ask clients to turn within when all is crisis or chaos, to tune in to their innate wisdom. But today I invite you to turn your attention outward, to notice and savor what is right here, right now. Because whatever we rest our attention on, grows.

By default, the brain rests its attention on what is bad and scary, designed to scan for and store negative experiences in an attempt to protect us in times of threat. In times like this of great uncertainty and change, the brain is very busy collecting frightening information and quickly gets stuck in overdrive. 

Therefore we have to pay extra attention to what is good and positive in order to get the brain to truly register it. When the brain finally gets it, the body gets it. It is simple but true: when we practice noticing and resting our attention on what is good and positive, we feel better. And when we feel better, we think better. And when we think better, we act better.

Scientifically speaking, when we notice something good and keep our attention there, the brain responds by deactivating the sympathetic nervous system , whose “fight-or-flight” stress response is helpful in crisis but depleting and harmful when stuck in overdrive. Directing our attention to goodness and beauty engages the parasympathetic nervous system, whose “rest-and-digest” relaxation response  deploys a cascade of soothing chemicals to produce calm and and a sense of wellbeing in the body. This  allows the body to rest and renew, promoting healing. It also allows the mind space and time to integrate and "digest" the constant changes, and to choose more effective action.

In other words — it works! But it takes a little practice. The parasympathetic nervous system is like an underused muscle that grows stronger every time it is exercised. So even though the gyms in North Carolina remain closed, you can still work out. Here’s how: 

• Look around you right now. Notice something that is beautiful, gives you pleasure, or for which you are grateful.

• Rest your attention on it for 1 minute, allowing yourself to notice details of shape, color, texture, sound, fragrance, taste. Drink it in. 

• If you want extra bang for your buck, write it down. Set a timer for 5 minutes and write about what you see, describing it in detail and describing what it evokes in you. 

• Check in with your body and note the ways it has calmed. What emotions are you noticing now? What thoughts? Notice how it makes you feel good to pay attention to something good.

You can also challenge yourself to a daily Gratitude/Positivity Practice, beginning or ending your day by noting 3 things for which you are grateful or can name as positive in this moment. It can be especially powerful to “bookend” your day by doing this morning and evening. It is OK to repeat yourself — you are helping your brain store vital information for your wellbeing!

If your spirit needs a little summer, I invite you to experience respite, renewal and even abundance by this practice of turning your attention to something good or positive. Rest your attention there, stay with it, savoring the experience to the fullest. Give your overworked brain — and the rest of your body — a vacation. Or perhaps even more accurately, a stay-cation.

Photo Credit: Cristian Escobar on Unsplash

Finding Courage, Taking Heart

On a bleak rainy day, well into our third month of coping with the Covid-19 pandemic, I am thinking of you.  Wherever these words finds you, whatever challenges surround you, I honor your courage in this moment.

Because this moment takes courage. Not heroism, which is how we've come to think of it, but courage, which at its root comes from the Latin word for heart. "Take heart," we might say to a struggling friend in need of encouragement -- a  gentle, generous invitation to reach within, to draw strength from whatever is there that keeps on beating, stubborn and persistent.

You may want to take a minute to tune in to your own heart, perhaps placing your hands there and closing your eyes for a couple of deep breaths, asking: What is it at my center that keeps on beating, stubborn and persistent? What matters to me, what keeps me going in hard times? What is true and unshakable in my being? THAT is your courage; that is what it means to "Take heart."

This moment calls for heart. Especially if you are feeling anxious or hopeless, not courageous! As the pandemic wears on and the country’s mood shifts from heightened compassion to heightened self-interest, you may be feeling despair and anger. As society begins to reopen with no clear safe path for rebuilding, you may be feeling worried and conflicted -- enticed yet troubled by new options. You may be feeling disoriented as still-new norms shift once again. You may be feeling exhausted by your ongoing efforts to cope with loss and a very changed world. You may be feeling daunted as you encounter the long-term reality of living with ongoing uncertainty, asking: How long will this last?  

"Take heart," you may need to tell yourself. As tenderly as you would speak to a dear friend: "Take heart."  

Take heart. Because my work as a grief counselor allows me to witness over and over the strength of the human spirit, I know something of the courage that is your heart. Take a moment to know what constitutes your courage, your heart, including your loves and your losses. I encourage you to reflect on and affirm these core strengths and truths, and to write them down for those times when you need courage. 

Take heart, my friend -- and may what is there guide you, bolster you, comfort and sustain you through the long days ahead.

Photo Credit: Cathal Mac an Bheatha on Unsplash

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Finding "Being" In The Midst Of "Doing"

Today I was writing a note of support to my clients: As our time of social isolation draws on, I continue to hold you in my thoughts. 

As I hear myself say that phrase, I think of how anyone familiar with grief learns what it means to hold someone in their thoughts, what it means to be achingly separate yet deeply connected. It can take a long time to feel this enduring, sustaining connection or it can happen in an instant, unbidden -- a moment of remembrance that breaks the heart and fills the heart at the same time.

This is something our grief-resistant culture is confronting right now as we are separated from people and activities we cherish. There is a lot of societal attention to how people are reaching out in novel ways to stay connected -- but I want to take a moment to reflect on how we are "reaching in" for what sustains and connects us. How we are not just "human doings" but "human beings." How we can find, even in the midst of loss and uncertainty, the wellspring within. How we can tune in to what we love, what we know, what is most important to us. And learn to let that "being" guide our "doing." 

One of my favorite reminders for this is to take the very American phrase "Don't just stand there, do something!" and turn it on its head: " Don't just do something, stand there."  It may not seem like much in a world that needs so much, where the suffering around us tugs at us to take action -- to "do" something. It is easy to feel guilty and helpless when there is little we can actually do, easy to feel hopeless when we begin to run out of things to do. But reaching in for what endures, for what sustains and guides us, is a necessary and vital part of moving forward through loss and adversity. Cultivating our “being” is the foundation for truly helping others who are suffering in this pandemic.

Because of my work with those in grief, I know you know how to do this.  I know that, in the midst of pain and struggle, you have the ability to find that sustaining place within you where you connect to YOUR profound wisdom, certainty, love, gratitude, and even laughter.  Where you can meet the compelling urge to “do” with the gentle and self-nurturing decision to “be” for a few moments. And then, hopefully, for a few moments longer…

I encourage you to know, truly know, that your "being" is as important as your "doing" -- whatever that looks like today, tomorrow, and onward through this challenging time.

Finding Certainty In The Midst Of Uncertainty

I am taking a moment in the midst of all the changes and uncertainties and fears caused by COVID-19 to do what I often encourage my clients to do: 

Photo Credit: Finn Hackshaw on Unsplash

Think of something you KNOW in the midst of all that is unknown. Whatever comes to mind, big or small! Now close your eyes, holding that thought/image, and tune in to your body -- where in your body do you notice that knowing? How does it feel? Does it have a temperature or color? With your eyes still closed, take a few deep breaths, savoring your experience of certainty, allowing your body to calm itself and to deeply know this truth. When you are ready, open your eyes and come back into your world, keeping your awareness of that calm center. Appreciate your ability to find the eye in the midst of the storm, knowing that it is yours and always available to you.

What I know in this moment is that I am grateful for this work of being a grief counselor -- for the courage I witness daily and the wisdom shared from each particular life struggle. Over and over, in the midst of loss and devastation and the bearing of unbearable pain, I witness powerful love, freeing insight, unfolding spirit, possibility emerging from the impossible. I am inspired by my clients and I learn profound truths every time we meet.

Because I have worked with those in grief for over 20 years, I know both the vulnerability AND the strength of the human spirit. I encourage you in this uncertain time to take a moment to KNOW what I know is within you: Courage. Resilience. Truth. Freedom. Abundance. Peace. Possibility. 

Name what you KNOW, take a moment to come home to it, and shelter in place there.

Photo by Finn Hackshaw on Unsplash

Finding Your Balance, Catching Your Breath: The Benefits Of Yoga And Writing When Coping With Grief

Photo Credit: David Clode

Grief is a natural and normal response to loss — but we do not FEEL normal while grieving. Anything but! We can be easily overwhelmed by surprising, unsettling changes in ourselves and in our world. Grief is not just sadness or other emotions; it is an all-encompassing experience that profoundly affects us in body, mind and spirit. 

Yoga and writing can be especially helpful during this difficult time because both fully engage body, mind, and spirit. Woven together as complementary practices, they quickly invite discovery and healing on a profound level.

How does this work?

Grief throws us off balance

• Yoga strengthens balance, in body and mind

• Writing restores balance as we give voice to the full spectrum of our experience

Grief takes our breath away

• Yoga helps us to breathe with awareness and freedom

• Writing, like breath, helps us take in what is around us and bring forth what is within us

Grief causes stress reactions in the body

• Yoga enables physical relaxation and reduces physical reactivity

• Writing engages the body’s natural “relaxation response,” releasing calming chemicals

Grief is often repressed 

• Yoga facilitates recognition and release of emotions that get stored in the body

• Writing allows us to vent, to let go, to say what has been held back

Grief constricts our world and our thinking

• Yoga invites stretching and opening, awareness of the truth of body and mind

• Writing allows us to see things in a new way, opening up new possibilities

Grief is unpredictable and out of our control

• Yoga practices control while encouraging us to let go and flow with whatever is happening

• Writing creates a sense of order from chaos

Grief disrupts our sense of safety

• Yoga mat is a safe place as we focus on the present moment through breath and movement

• Writing creates a safe place for our grief to land; the journal is always there for us

Grief changes us in ways we don’t like, causing self-judgement and self-criticism

• Yoga practices non-judgement, self-compassion, self-acceptance

• Writing fosters self-understanding which leads to self-compassion

Grief disconnects us from who we are and what we love

• Yoga uncovers for us the connection to our deepest selves: body, mind and spirit

• Writing connects us to what is lost, to what still matters, to something larger than our pain

Grief is painful; healing requires both moving into and moving away from the pain

• Yoga practices listening to body so that we know when to move in, when to move away

• Writing allows us to delve deeply into the pain and also provides times of surprising respite

This is not just a theory, it is something magical I witness every time I facilitate a Gentle Yoga & Journaling Retreat with yoga therapist SAM Sather of Dogwood Studio. These twice-yearly retreats offer anyone coping with loss the chance to experience first-hand the healing power of yoga and writing, in the company of others who “get it.”

But don’t take my word for it. Here is what past participants have said: 

"I didn't realize how much I was holding inside. Being able to release thoughts & emotions through journaling, yoga, & quiet reflection was something I needed.”

"I really appreciated having a space that was intentionally focused on loss. It was a rare opportunity to be with others who were also there with that.”

"The Yoga sessions with SAM were very relaxing. The writing sessions with Mitzi brought so many emotions to the surface for me.”

“It was not intimidating, which was welcoming for a newcomer.”

"I appreciated having the opportunity to identify a concrete step forward.”

Join us for our next retreat!

Finding Your Balance, Catching Your Breath: 

A Gentle Yoga & Journaling Retreat To Help Move Through Loss

Saturday, September 21, 1:00-5:30pm

Dogwood Studio in Carrboro, NC

Details & Registration

~Thanks to Sam Sather for contributing her thoughts about yoga and grief for this article~

Photo Credit: David Clode

Making Peace with Difficult Emotions

Photo Credit: Javardh

Grief is rife with difficult emotions, and for many people, anger and guilt are two of the most difficult. Not everyone experiences anger or guilt in grief, but both are normal reactions to the loss of someone important to us. These “normal” emotions don’t feel at all normal, and often cause great distress and confusion. How can we understand what is happening to us and find ways to cope?

ANGER 

Anger is a powerful messenger. It tells us something is not right in our world. And when someone important to us dies, many things are not right in our world. So it is natural to experience anger when grieving — natural, but not easy. For many of us, anger is a very uncomfortable emotion that we aren’t supposed to have, a “bad feeling” that makes us feel like a “bad person,” causing us to push it away.

But if anger is a messenger, we need to pay attention to what it has to say. A messenger knocking at the door will keep banging harder and harder if ignored — and may even kick the door in! Pushing anger aside works only for a short time; it grows when suppressed.  But when we face our anger and attend to what is causing it, we can reduce its power over us.

HOW TO COPE WITH ANGER

Accept the anger as a temporary part of your healing process.

Anger may feel bad, but it is not a “bad feeling”. You are not a “bad person” for feeling anger — even if you are angry with the person who died. Even if you are angry with God.

Allow yourself to feel and release the anger. 

Find ways to freely express your anger without harm to self, others, or property. Talk to a trusted friend or journal your thoughts, make art or music, engage in vigorous physical activity, throw a soft toy, find a private place to stomp and wail. My proper Southern grandmother used to go into her garage, shut the door, and yell at God until her anger was spent and she could return to face the challenges of her new life.

Explore what feelings might be underneath your anger.

Ask yourself: “What purpose is my anger serving? If I wasn’t feeling angry, what feeling would arise?” Anger sometimes hides or masks other hard feelings. It might be protective, hiding hurt or sadness that is too painful to feel at the moment. It might a source of energy, the only thing that keeps us going during those times when grief utterly depletes us. Naming what is underneath the anger allows us to shift our attention to what we can heal.

GUILT

When death occurs, it is nearly impossible to grasp the reality that someone important to us is gone forever. Our struggling brains often go over and over the details leading to the death as a way of trying to understand how this could have happened, like a detective trying to put the pieces of a mystery together. This intensive review is like looking through a magnifying glass (sometimes a microscope!) as we search for clues, highlighting our mistakes and spotlighting those moments when we wish we had done something different. Our human faults and weaknesses are enlarged way out of proportion. We are tormented by “shoulda woulda couldas” and readily blame ourselves even for things we didn’t know at the time or that were out of our control.

Some of this guilt is realistic (we were not our best selves) but much of it is unrealistic (we feel responsible for something not in our control.) Knowing how to name our guilt is the first step in resolving it.

We feel Unrealistic Guilt for not having superpowers — when we somehow imagine that we should have beyond-human power to know or change things. Unrealistic Guilt says:  “It’s my fault I couldn’t get him to stop smoking.” “I should have been able to keep her from suffering.” “I should have known it was cancer even though the doctors couldn’t find anything.”  Does this voice sound familiar? 

We feel Realistic Guilt when we were not our best selves, when we did something we knew was wrong at the time we were doing it. This can happen especially in response to the stresses of caregiving. In my case, I lost patience with my agitated father who had dementia with nightly sundowning, and yelled at him the night before he died. I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t stop myself in that fraught moment.

HOW TO COPE WITH GUILT

Unrealistic Guilt

Acknowledge that your guilt is unrealistic. 

It is OK to wish you could have done more, but not OK to blame yourself for something impossible. Free yourself to face and truly heal the underlying emotions causing this guilt.

Ask yourself: What purpose is this serving? Why am I holding on to this? 

Unrealistic Guilt keeps our thoughts busy with irrational self-blame, protecting us from     experiencing unsettling emotions such as helplessness, fear, loneliness, deep sadness, and sometimes even anger at the person who died. 

Unrealistic Guilt can be a way to stay rooted in the time before death changed our world, a way to avoid the painful reality that we must now go on alone. 

Unrealistic Guilt helps us believe that we could have prevented the death, which is more tolerable than facing the fact that death is out of our control.

Realistic Guilt

Ask yourself: What were my intentions?

Was your behavior intentional, on purpose, or was your behavior unintentional, a mistake? Perhaps, like me, you really could have been more patient and attentive in your caregiving. But what were your intentions? Did you choose to hurt this person, or were you occasionally overwhelmed in moments of frustration or exhaustion or fear? Remind yourself that all of us (including the person who died) are human and make mistakes.

Do something different going forward. Allow this guilt to help you grow.    

We can’t undo the past but we can create a different future. If you were not your best self, what do you wish to do differently in the future? Perhaps you commit to saying “I’m sorry” or “I love you” or Thank you” more often, or to spending more time with family or friends.

Whether your guilt is realistic or unrealistic, it is helpful to look at the whole picture. 

Put away the magnifying glass and pick up your panoramic camera! Remind yourself that the actions that are haunting you are part of a much larger picture that contains many loving actions. Ask yourself: What did I do right? Perhaps, like me, you can move from “I yelled at my dying father” to “Most of the time, I was a loving, attentive daughter. Often I was the only one who could make him laugh.” 

FINDING PEACE

Anger and guilt are painful, disruptive, and often isolating emotions. A powerful coping tool for resolving these feelings is forgiveness, a word which is frequently misunderstood. 

Forgiveness is not the same as acceptance; it is not saying that what happened was OK.

In the words of writer Betsy Blanton: “Forgiveness is the acknowledgment that what happened, happened, and that you are now ready to set down the baggage, the pain and the fear.” Forgiveness is being able to say: “I acknowledge that this happened, but I’m not going to let it continue to hurt me and hold me back. I am not going to let this memory continue to be an open wound.”

Forgiving the other person isn’t about freeing him or her — it is about freeing you. 

Forgiveness allows you to free yourself of the burdens you have been carrying from the relationship so that you can focus on living in the present instead of in the past. It allows you to take control by withdrawing your energy from trying to achieve what is impossible (undoing past actions) and focusing it on achieving what is possible here and now.  

Forgiving yourself can sometimes be harder than forgiving the other. 

Treat yourself as you would a dear friend — with compassion for your human weaknesses and mistakes. Would you say to a beloved friend the kinds of things you are saying to yourself “How could you yell at someone who was so sick?!” Or would you say: “That was such a hard time and you were so exhausted. Of course you lost your patience at times.”  

Say “I’m sorry.” It’s not too late.

Have a conversation in your mind or in writing, or speak your apology aloud. Accept the forgiveness you know would be there for you. Breathe it in. Finding forgiveness is a powerful key to finding peace, a powerful medicine for healing. a life-changing gift waiting to be opened.

"Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future." 

Paul Boese.

~Thanks to Laura Bradbury, LCSW of Transitions GriefCare for inspiring insights.

It's Normal Not To Be Normal When Grieving

Mélancolie by Albert Gyorgy, Geneva,Switzerland

Grief is the universal human response to loss — we all grieve when we lose someone or something important to us. But grief is not universally understood. Most of us are totally unprepared for the intense and confusing reactions that can follow a significant loss. We do not feel (or think or act) like our normal selves while grieving. We feel like there is something wrong with us.

But in reality, our grief tells us something is right with us! We grieve because we love; we grieve because we care. As writer Paul Irion says: ”Life can be the same after a trinket has been lost, but never after the loss of a treasure.”  Loss profoundly changes our world, sometimes even shatters that world; it is natural that we are also changed. It is normal that we are not our normal selves while grieving.

But if grief is natural and normal, why does it make us feel so crazy?

Normal does not equal easy. Times of change (especially unexpected or unwanted change) are times of stress. Grief is a special kind of stress that affects our whole being, causing inner turmoil and unfamiliar behaviors as we struggle to adjust to a very changed world.

Grief is commonly thought of as a time of sadness that we passively endure until it somehow subsides, but it is much more than that. It is a powerful, surprising, demanding body/mind/spirit experience. Grief causes changes in all aspects of our lives and wellbeing: physical, mental, behavioral, emotional, and spiritual.

Physical grief reactions include changes in sleep and appetite, profound exhaustion, chest heaviness, increase in illness and tension/aches. Our bodies grieve.

Mental grief reactions include “brain fog,” forgetfulness, inability to concentrate or make decisions, repetitive thoughts of events leading to the loss or what could have prevented it, disbelief, apathy. Our brains are preoccupied — and sometimes off-line.

Behavioral grief reactions include social withdrawal (or increased social activity), irritability, changes in work performance and self-care, increased accidents and risk-taking. We are surprised by our actions.

Emotional grief reactions in addition to sadness include loneliness, anxiety, guilt, anger, relief (and guilt for feeling relief), abandonment, lowered self-esteem, numbness, shock, fear (or lack of fear, because the worst has already happened.) We often feel conflicting emotions.

Spiritual grief reactions include changes in deeply-held life beliefs (for some a religion, for others a personal spirituality or philosophy.) These beliefs can be strengthened, questioned, or shattered. There can be a profound sense of comfort and gratitude, or a profound sense of anger and abandonment.

This list is neither exhaustive or a set of requirements— you may experience additional grief reactions or few of those listed.  Grief is highly personal — each of us grieves differently.  But however we respond to loss, we are not our usual selves when grieving, which is confusing both to us and to those around us. It can help to know that these are natural, normal reactions — even when they don’t feel natural or normal.

Many of these changes are temporary even if they are intense at times, and most people reach a place eventually where they feel much more “like themselves.” But some changes are profound and long-lasting;  some are even positive. Like it or not, grief is a process of transformation.

It is natural to want to be normal again. Right now! But if we can accept that this is normal right now, we can take better care of ourselves in this very challenging time. We can acknowledge our current limitations, seek support for what we need, and treat ourselves with patience and compassion as we find our own way forward toward healing.

---

This blog first appeared in the Cognitive Psychiatry of Chapel Hill blog.

Podcast: Grieving a Difficult Relationship

Photo credit: Ian Chen

Most of the time we speak of grief — when we do speak of it, that is! — we refer to the person who died as the 'loved one'. We assume the relationship was one of love, and that the person left behind is saddened by the loss of that relationship. But sometimes the relationship was not a loving one. Sometimes it was even toxic. What is it like if your 'Loved One' was not someone you think of with love? What if a central figure in your life was not necessarily a loving figure?

Click here to listen. 11 minutes

"Moving On": Is It OK to Be Happy Again?

Photo Credit: Adrien Tutin

Most people in the throes of grief long for the day when the pain and confusion will lessen, when grief will 'loosen its grip' so that they can experience happiness again, even when they can’t really believe that day will ever come.  But when that day does come — the day where you find yourself laughing out loud and really enjoying yourself, where you are looking forward to a new hobby or a special event, where you notice you haven’t thought about the person who died all day — when that longed-for moment finally comes you can be hit with an unexpected wave of grief, in the all-too-familiar but somehow still surprising form of guilt and self-doubt.

The longed-for happiness can feel like betrayal: How dare I be happy when he/she is dead? What right do I have to enjoy this meal, this beauty, this fun moment when he/she will never enjoy this again? Does this mean I didn’t love him/her? The longed-for happiness can feel like forgetting: Does this mean I am leaving him/her behind? The longed-for happiness can feel inappropriate: How can I be happy when I’m supposed to be sad? What if others think I’m not sad enough? Will they think I’m moving on too soon? 

Grief is full of surprises that way — it can get you coming and going. First you long for the day when you won’t be thinking so painfully of your loved one all the time, then when that day arrives you are confused or even frightened by the experience. We can feel disloyal to the past as we take a step into the future. So how can we take the necessary steps to re-engage in life without feeling like we are doing something wrong? How can we resolve these conflicting desires? 

First, it might help to understand that feeling this conflict is very natural in grief. It is not only normal and natural to have these mixed feelings, it is actually an indication that a healthy grief process is underway. Grief demands many things of us, and some of these things are inherently conflicting, opposites, asking us to do two things at once. 

Healthy grieving requires both that we focus on the person who has died and that we focus on living without that person. On the one hand, we must give our attention to the pain of loss — we must fully mourn what is gone and acknowledge that it is not coming back. On the other hand, we must adapt to the new and often unwanted world that we find ourselves in. 

Healthy grieving requires that we give our attention to these “opposite” realities, to both the past and future, so to speak. If we don’t, we can get stuck in one or the other — stuck in the past: paralyzed by painful emotions without being able to take any steps forward, or stuck in the future: too busy moving forward to allow any room for working through the loss.  Allowing ourselves to fully mourn what is gone as well as to experience what goodness still exists allows us over time to shift our focus from longing for the life we had to reengaging in the life we have. This is the healing process of grief.   

So when we are grieving in a healthy manner, our focus and energy naturally shifts back and forth between the loss and the rebuilding, the past and the present. In time a shift in focus occurs as we spend less energy mourning what is lost and more energy engaged in what still remains, moving our attention to the world around us and the possibilities that still exist for a meaningful and possibly even happy life. This process occurs through little steps and big steps —although to me as a grief counselor, even the little steps that a grieving person takes are in fact big steps. Every step is significant in this journey!

A little step (that is really a big step) can be as simple (and as profound) as noticing a moment of enjoyment or happiness when it does occur and then allowing that awareness to fill your being instead of dismissing it as inappropriate. It can be a discipline, like noting one thing daily that is source of happiness or meaning (even if it is the same thing day after day for awhile) or keeping a gratitude journal. 

A bigger step might be actively choosing small personal activities, simple pleasures like a nap, a walk outdoors, a hot bath, time with a beloved pet. Other big steps: outings with friends or family, a renewed hobby, pursuing a new interest or an old interest that was not available to you while the deceased was alive. Sometimes, and this can be very difficult to acknowledge and accept, the death results in unexpected freedom — especially after long caregiving or strong personality differences. It is an especially big step to accept and embrace that freedom, to allow yourself to explore and experience activities  — a part of you, really — that may have been set aside for the relationship. 

Sometimes there is nothing  — little or big — that seems to bring enjoyment, but allowing times of respite from the pain is crucial in healing, just as it would be if you were recovering from a physical injury.  Distracting yourself from the pain (as long as it isn’t self-destructive or your only way of coping) can also be a step forward: exercise, work, computer games, humor, even mindless TV.

Often when I talk about this with someone who is grieving, the concept of happiness or enjoyment — much less the concept of a future without this special person —  seems way too large. Unattainable. When that is the case, I ask them to think about anything — anything— that brings a spot of color to their now-colorless world, or something that brings a sense of lightness in their heaviness, a spark of light in the darkness. Something that at least helps to recharge their drained battery. I ask — What still matters? What still has meaning?

All of these questions are a way of exploring our way toward healing — each answer is a stepping stone that begins to form a path through the uncharted territory of grief. Even the smallest step is a big step — and most importantly, a stepping stone that makes it possible to take the next step forward.  If we think of the future as THE FUTURE, it can paralyze us. So we concentrate on whatever step we can take right now, affirming that we are moving forward.

For those that have lost a life partner or spouse, a particular challenge in moving on is whether to consider a new relationship. Strong conflicting feelings can arise when imagining being with a new person. For some, a new relationship is a distraction from the grief, for others, it offers much-needed support for working through the grief. For some, a new relationship is something important to hope for, a way to continue to love and to give. For others, the mere thought is unimaginable, feels like betrayal, or at the least, feels overwhelming at a time when so much energy is needed just to cope with daily life. 

As in all aspects of grief, there is no prescription here, no absolute right and wrong, no calendar showing the “proper time” to begin dating. It is important for someone who is considering dating to ask: Am I trying to replace my partner? Am I working through my loss, or distracting myself so I won’t feel the pain? Am I ready for more loss if this relationship doesn’t work out? Can I handle conflicting feelings among family and friends about this new person in my life? Can I be sensitive to wherever they are in their grief process while I am “moving on?”

If you thought dating was complicated the first time around, there is even more to think about after a loss! Each person navigates this territory in their own way — again there is no right or wrong — but I guarantee you will encounter lots of diverse opinions on this one!

One of the essential keys to healing in grief is finding meaning in this new life, discovering and affirming and re-engaging in whatever it is that still matters to you, despite all that is lost. Moving on and experiencing happiness again — in whatever form that happens for you — does not mean forgetting. Yes we have to let go of something very important — the life that we had with the person who died — we cannot return to that life. But we do not let go of the person — we carry them forward with us in memory even as we rebuild a life without them. In this way, we hold on even while letting go. We hold on even while moving on.

One of my favorite quotes says it beautifully , 

“Like the stars by day, our beloved dead are not seen with mortal eyes. Yet they shine…

Those who live no more echo still within our thoughts and words, and what they did is part of what we have become.  Thus, even when they are gone, the departed are with us, moving us to live fully. We do best homage to our dead when we live our lives most fully, even in the shadow of their loss.”

Quote is excerpted from: 

The Memorial Rituals Book For Healing And Hope, edited by Ann Marie Putter 

Grief as a Healing Process

Photo Credit: Ye Fung Tchen

There are many ways to make sense of the sometimes overwhelming, often bewildering experience of grief. We know that grief is a universal human response to loss — we all grieve. We also know that grief is highly personal — each of us grieves differently. We know that grief can be a confusing process, causing unexpected changes both inside of us and outside of us as we struggle to adjust to a very changed world.

Grief can make us feel like we are being torn apart. But in actuality, grief is a healing process, the way we knit ourselves back together after being torn apart by the loss of someone important to us. Loss is the wound; grief is the healing of that wound. It does not feel like healing — it feels much more like a threat.  But if we can come to understand grief as a healing process instead of a threat, we can stop fighting it and find ways to aid our healing.

Many grieving people describe their loss as “losing a part of me”, a kind of amputation. If this amputation was physical, the body would respond with natural, built-in healing processes to help protect and mend the wound. So it is with grief.

Does your loss feel like a kind of amputation?  If so, it might be helpful to think about the ways that the healing process of grief is similar to physical healing:

• Healing is painful at times, and often takes longer than expected.

• Healing rarely means feeling “a little better each day”; it is natural for pain to recur along the way.

• Healing is frustrating: many things that used to be easy are now hard or impossible.

• Most of these changes are temporary while healing is in progress, but some are permanent

• Healing doesn’t mean we go back to our old life; it means we learn how to live with what is different.

• While we can’t control or rush the process, there are ways to help our healing.

• Similar to undergoing physical therapy, we must sometimes work through the pain. Equally important, we must sometimes avoid or rest from what is causing the pain.

• While we are healing, we have limited abilities but increased needs. We would not expect ourselves — and others would not expect us — to run a marathon while recovering from an amputation. Likewise, respecting our current limits and caring for ourselves as we would care for someone dear to us is vital to our healing.

Yes, healing from a serious physical injury leaves scars, and does not guarantee that we will never feel pain again. We are forever changed. But by allowing ourselves to grieve, and taking good care of ourselves while we are healing, the pain of the wound lessens and we can reengage in life, finding what is still meaningful and possible. As we knit ourselves back together, as the wound of separation heals, we discover that what seems lost forever is now part of us forever.

The only cure for grief is to grieve.
–Earl Grollman



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This blog first appeared on the Transitions LifeCare bereavement blog.