Grief in all its forms

Two of my close friends died during the month of July, one older than me and one younger. So I have entered the world of grief again. I know that if I don't tend to the grieving process now, the grief will simply stay buried inside me until some new grief comes into my life—and then I'll have to deal with the whole lot of it at once. And that can really pack a punch.

There are so many causes for grief and so many types. I've long said that each loss contains multiple losses embedded within it. For example, if you have lost your job, you also have loss of income, loss of identity, loss of colleagues and perhaps even friendships, loss of meaning, loss of focus—and so much more.

Recently, in a retreat center's catalog of offerings, I saw a seminar listed that would take a look at how to find one's way through loss. It had a name for all these smaller losses within the big loss: It called them "secondary losses" or even "loss of the assumptive world." I'd never heard those terms before but they really fit.

Years ago I wrote a resource on grief for the women's organization of my church body, and I talked about these other losses. I didn't have a name for them then. If you are interested in this resource, click on this link.

And if you face any type of loss right now, I encourage you to face it and grieve. Remember, death isn't the only loss in life. We lose friends, jobs, homes, physical and mental abilities and so much more. All of it requires a grief process.

What's inside fear & loss?

I've often mentioned in my blogs that one of my favorite inspirational authors is Mark Nepo. I have read several of his books—and only recently, bought a couple more. One of those is Things That Join the Sea and the Sky: Field Notes on Living.

One of the things Nepo wrote in that book is:

"I don't know why, but for all I've been through—almost dying, almost living, seeking love till I've become love, seeking truth till I've become a question—for all of it, I'm certain that inside every nut is a seed. Inside every fear, a pin of light. Inside every desperation, a drop of being. Inside every loss, an inch of what can never be lost. And inside every burden, a pearl of worth. I don't know why, but I'm certain that the pearl of worth is waiting for us to dive to the bottom of all trouble, to pry the shell of burden open, and to bring the gem we were born to carry to the surface."

One of the images that come to mind when I read this is that of the Russian nesting dolls. When you remove the top of the largest doll, another doll is nesting inside. Take off the top of that doll and yet another smaller doll nests inside. This continues until you reach the tiniest doll of all, hidden inside all the others. And she doesn't come apart.

For certain—"inside every nut is a seed." I ask myself, do I take the time to look inside my fear? My desperation? My loss? My burden? If I do, that's where the riches can be found.

And what is the gem I was born to bring to the surface?

What about you?

Don't be afraid of grief work

I just heard about a person who experienced a huge loss in her life and who can't seem to deal with the grief of that loss because she's still stuck in deep grief over a different loss some 10-15 years earlier.

This is a reminder to me of the importance of grieving each loss as it comes into our lives. That said, grief isn't a once-and-done thing either. Still, it's essential to do whatever grief work is needed in our lives—and not just for the huge life losses such as death, divorce, debilitating illness, job loss, etc. We also need to grieve for  what some see as lesser losses: losing a friend for one reason or another, losses of ability as we age (hearing, eyesight, mobility and more), and other things such as favorite places when we move from one city to another or even from one neighborhood to another.

Life can be filled with losses, large and small. It's important to stop and take the time to feel the sadness and do whatever you need to do that will allow you to move on. Because grief is a process, you may need to spend some time again later working on the sadness you feel. That's OK. Just don't skip over your feelings as though the loss didn't matter. It does. And your feelings matter.

Stay clear and cleaned out as much as possible by facing things as they occur. If this is something about which you'd like to talk, please contact me.

Change is afoot

Some of my friends have had experiences recently—ranging from job loss to loss of dear friends (too young to have their lives over) to jobs going sour to confronting the aging process and its losses along with its opportunities.

Each of these women admits to asking the questions that originally caused me to create my Way2Grow Life Coaching practice:

• Who am I now?
• Where am I going?
• What do I want to do with the rest of my life?
• What's my purpose now?
• What does successful living look like for me?

These questions and more are part of this stage of life where we have accumulated a wealth of experiences, some good and some difficult, but all of which have taught us a thing or two. It seems we're never done learning, however, particularly if we're paying attention. It's always a good time to stop and ask the questions above and others—to re-evaluate where we are and where we're going. It's also a good time to consider what needs to be shed, whether that's old ideas, resentments, personas that don't fit, friends who aren't good for us, jobs that are toxic, etc.

Where are you now? And what might you need to change? What losses do you need to grieve or tend to? If you'd like to talk about this, I invite you to contact me. I offer a complimentary coaching session; all you need to do is let me know and we'll go from there.

Share your grief

Sheryl Sandberg, chief operating officer of Facebook, lost her husband to sudden death after only 11 years of marriage. Together with her psychologist friend, Adam Grant, she has written a book about grief and recovery. It's entitled Option B: Facing Adversity, Building Resilience, and Finding Joy.

In an interview with AARP The Magazine, Sandberg advises people who have faced a trauma such as the death of a loved one that they not isolate themselves.

Here's what she says: "You have to find ways to break the isolation. I found it very hard to tell people that I wanted to talk. It felt like I was imposing my sadness on them. When someone asked, 'How are you?' I kept saying, 'I'm fine,' and then people wouldn't ask me any questions. But I learned to say, 'I'm actually not doing that well.' One of the most common things about grief, about loss, about adversity, is silence. So what happens is, you go through this adversity or trauma, and then what piles on top of that is the isolation of no one talking about it."

Have you experienced this, too? Yes, it's pretty common that people in grief pull into themselves and isolate. I remember doing that after my divorce, too. However, Sandberg's advice is helpful. Isolation only prolongs the grief and makes you feel more alone than you already feel. If you are grieving something now, try Sandberg's advice. Be honest about where you're at in the process. Let friends and family help you. And if you know someone who's grieving, gently continue reaching out to them.

Job loss and grief

Another friend just lost her job. It was little more than a month ago that another good friend lost hers. There is a lot of that going around these days. Positions being eliminated. People being downsized, rightsized and whatever else it's being called these days!

My own former career field, journalism, is in free fall. I was reduced in force in 2009. And in 2015 there were 40 percent fewer journalists working in America's daily newsrooms than in 2007. That's only one career field. This is happening in many fields.

So if you have lost your job—or know someone who has—think about the loss that represents. And what do we do about losses in our lives? That's right—we grieve them.

Take time to think about all the losses that one large loss represents. For example, when I lost my job, I also lost status, some identity, a forum for my voice, a friendship circle at work, income and so much more.

Grieve each loss appropriately. It is difficult to move on in life if we don't take the time to grieve all sorts of losses. What happens when we don't is that when a truly large loss, such as death of a parent, spouse, child or dear friend occurs, all those other ungrieved losses roll up into the most recent loss. And now we're hit with an even larger blow.

I can't encourage you enough to take the time to think about each loss as it occurs, cry, talk with a friend or trusted person—a coach, if that's what you need! Grieve that same loss as often as the pain comes up again. Grief isn't a once-and-done thing; it's a process.










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Pain and joy connect

We get a lot of societal messages these days telling us we have a right to a happy and perfect life. Ads show happy, clappy people. And even when we're grieving a loss, many folks around us encourage us to get over it. Perhaps it makes them more comfortable to see us happy. In any case, there's a lot of pressure to "don't worry, be happy" these days.

But how realistic is that? Every one of us faces challenges, pain and loss. Facing them and working through them takes time. And it should take time, for there are ever so many lessons to be learned from each of those things. As singer/songwriter Leonard Cohen said in his song "Anthem," everything is cracked and that's how the light gets in.

We don't need to take the opposite approach and glorify pain and suffering. But we need to allow both pain and joy into our lives. I like what inspirational author Mark Nepo says about this in his book Seven Thousand Ways to Listen: Staying Close to What Is Sacred. He speaks of letting in beauty and listening to loss. He reminds us that pain and loss open us up. Further, he says: "This lifelong conversation with love, wonder, and truth in counterpoint with pain, loss, and obstacles is how we dilate and constrict our way into the essence of our aliveness."

I love that: a lifelong conversation between the two. Yes! Think of the width and breadth of such a conversation and how our hearts would expand.

Life & loss

"It's what we lose that teaches us to suck all the juices out of every other moment in life," Joan Chittister wrote in her book Living Well.

As I look back on my own life, I can see the truth of that. It's in the losses that I've learned the most: losing my marriage, losing the opportunity to break another glass ceiling when I was highly qualified and expected by others to get the position, losing my job, losing loved ones in death and losing friendships, to name a few.

Those experiences have taught me to make the most of what I do have, to cherish those who are in my life and to "suck all the juices" out of each day. I want to savor each moment.

Do I remember that every minute of every day? Oh, how I wish! But as I often tell myself: It's not about perfection; it's about doing the best I can.

Think about your own life. What have you lost that has taught you to "suck all the juices" out of each moment?

A pile-up of losses

On Monday we talked about grieving a loss a little at a time, only taking it one step at a time as we can manage. Today I want to talk about how losses sometimes pile up.

A dear friend of mine had foot surgery not long ago, dealing with the pain of healing and the limitations to her mobility as she heals. She faces yet another surgery in a few more days, so she is far from done yet. There are losses embedded in those experiences. Meanwhile, she suffered the loss of a long-term friendship recently. And now her beloved canine family member (of 14 years) died. That's a lot of loss to handle at one time.

This is when incremental grieving is really important. Sometimes all the losses pile up and hit us upside the head. And it nearly bows us down to the ground.

Other times, we might be able to just pull out one of those losses and do some grieving. Feel the pain of loss. Be honest about your feelings. Pore over the good memories. Know they will always be part of you if you continue to cherish and nourish them. And only when you're ready, imagine new life—and move on.

Many books and articles have been written on grief. Find something that's helpful to you. Or talk with someone who is a good listener and has empathy. And take your time. Really! Take. Your. Time. Our culture tries to rush through grief so we can get back to "happy" again. But there really is no way to rush grief. It needs time to simmer and stew. You will need to be with it before you feel like moving on. And even then, pieces of it may return from time to time. It's OK. That's normal. 

One step at a time

Loss. Grief. Sadness. These things come to us all, in one form or another, at one time or another, throughout our life. Multiple times, in fact.

Most times you and I cannot change the situation that brings grief. We can allow ourselves to be changed by the situation, however. How do we do that, you ask. One step at a time.

Say you or a loved one received a diagnosis of illness the treatment for which comes with no guarantee of healing. You cannot change what is. You can decide whether to move forward with the recommended treatment after weighing whatever options there are. But you or your loved one have no control over the illness or even how effective the treatment is. What you can manage, however, is how you face the situation—by acceptance or by fighting it.

It is important for you to be open and honest about your feelings as you face this. Talk with others about your fears. Reaching out to others helps tremendously—even though sometimes our impulse is to isolate. Grieve whatever losses are involved. Do that as often as necessary. Do everything you can to stay as positive and hopeful as you can. Not only might it help the healing process, but you will have so much more energy and strength to face the situation. And when you can't deal with the losses all at once, do so in smaller steps. Accept what you can, one step at a time.

If you wish to talk about something heavy that's weighing on you right now, I invite you to contact me for a complimentary coaching session on how best to face it.

Change: Hold both loss and gain

Change. The very word can strike fear into many hearts.

Each of us reacts differently to change. And it may depend on what area of life the change affects—some changes are more difficult than others.

The congregation to which my fiancé and I belong is entering a period of discernment and reflection on the changes that have happened and are happening in our community and in society in general. Church leaders want to be pro-active in how we meet the changing needs of individuals and families.

Just the very process of meeting to reflect and discuss is raising the fear level of some members. I do understand those fears. The unknown can do that to us. We don't yet know what will change. We don't know what losses we might incur, what we may have to give up. However, we don't yet know what we might gain, too—perhaps discovering new ways of being and operating that we'll come to cherish.

Perhaps that's the easiest way to deal with change: see the "both/and" of it all. Yes, we'll lose some things we liked. And, yes, most likely we'll gain some things we will come to like. Loss and gain. Both/and. Can we hold both of those at the same time? So much of life is like that, isn't it?



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Losses can pile up

Have you ever experienced grief that you thought was out of proportion to the loss you suffered? It's not that we can measure such a thing: For this particular loss, you should grieve xx number of days; and for that loss, you should grieve this long.

However, what can happen sometimes is that we are brought to our knees with grief over something we didn't experience as the biggest loss of our lives. I've surely had that happen, and I have friends and clients who have, too. It can take us by surprise.

Most often, it's because of unacknowledged past losses—things we haven't stopped to grieve before but that have just gotten deeply buried inside us. The day will come when that loss will come up from the deep and make itself felt when we're in the midst of grieving something else. Losses can pile up on us in that way.

That's why it's important to acknowledge losses as they happen. And it's worth noting that death isn't the only loss we need to grieve. We experience all manner of losses: friendships, job, career disappointments and lost opportunities, dreams, pets, independence as we age and lose some of our abilities, children moving far away, knowing expectations won't be met, and so many more. Take the time to acknowledge and grieve such things so that you can stay cleared-out and open-hearted.

If this is something you'd like to discuss, please contact me.

Life amid death

Thirteenth-century Persian poet Rumi once said, "Don't grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form."

I don't take that to mean that we shouldn't face our grief and walk through it. When a loved one dies, when we lose ability because of chronic illness, when tragedy strikes, it's important to be real about what's happened and how we feel about it. It's important to grieve. I believe that's necessary before we can let go and move on (and by that I don't mean forgetting what we've lost).

What I take from Rumi's quote is that death is part of life, joy and sadness are often wound together, and life's "fertilizer" is capable of producing beautiful blooms. Death and loss don't have to have the last word. Transformation and new life are possible.

Even now in fall, when most of us focus on things that are dying, seeds are falling to the earth and in spring, they'll bring forth new life.

When I lost my job in 2009, I didn't imagine that it would lead me to another satisfying career—one that really fits where I am now in life. Many people who have suffered through cancer and treatments have said that it deepened and enriched their lives—and that they actually are grateful for all of it. I wouldn't presume to say this is true for every loss and for every person. You are the only one who can make such judgments about your life experience. But I will say that this quote is worthy of deep reflection.

How you age matters

"Age doesn't matter. What matters most is how you age, and how you spend the time in between," says author Ritu Ghatourey.

In our culture, that quote seems almost counter-cultural. Our society celebrates youth—and you can hardly see a magazine on the newsstand that doesn't contain articles on how to remove wrinkles, shore up a sagging body, and keep that youthful figure and appearance.  There aren't many media messages that celebrate aging.

You and I can live in a counter-cultural way, however. We can enjoy our aging process. We can celebrate it. We can spend our time in gratitude for the abilities we still have, for the life experiences we have had, for the people in our lives—in other words, for all that has been, all that is, and all that's yet to come. We can see the glass half-full rather than half-empty. We can age well—aging both gracefully and gratefully.

Doing so means tending to the letting go process: letting go of attitudes and resentments that no longer serve us. And it means also tending to the grief process for those abilities and things we may have lost as we age. Once we have grieved such losses, we can let them go—and move on to celebrate the life and abilities we do have.

Opportunity? Or loss?

Last week I attended the funeral of a dear uncle and godparent. He was one of my favorites, and it wasn't easy to lose him.

As a friend said recently, "There seem to be more funerals lately." I guess that's bound to happen at a certain stage of life. It causes me to reflect on what it means to be the generation that will soon be out on the edge—or the forefront—depending on your point of view.

That can be a downer for you if you focus on death or on the fact of what you'll be missing out on once you're gone. But it can be inspirational to think about your role as a mentor, an elder, an encourager or whatever other word you'd like to put to it. We have so many wonderful opportunities as we age to pass on whatever wisdom we've gained, to encourage younger ones to find their place in life and to live into their authentic selves. It can be a wonderful time of life. There's so much need out there, and we have so much to offer.

As is so often the case, you can view aging from different vantage points. You can look at what little time you have left and feel the loss. Or you can look at all the opportunities that are ahead for you no matter how much time you have left. Choose carefully. Your happiness depends on your attitude.

Aging & limitations

Have you experienced some loss of agility, mobility or capacity as you age? If you have, and if you're like most of the rest of us, you feel a sense of loss about that.

Our hearing and eyesight decline, new aches and pains surface, we are diagnosed with one ailment or another (or perhaps several)—and sometimes, we even face serious and difficult illness. We can't move as quickly as we used to do. We awaken in the morning a little more stiff. We may even have to give up some activities we used to enjoy because our bodies just don't cooperate anymore.

While we want to take the aging process and bodily changes in stride, it's also important to take time to grieve those losses that really affect us. If you keenly feel one or more of these losses, take time to do some grief work, whatever that may look like for you. Perhaps it means some sort of ritual or talking it over with trusted friends. It may mean drawing and/or journaling about it. What will help you pay attention to your feelings and then let go? What will help you move on to embrace what you can do?

Death isn't the only loss that's worthy of grieving. Many of life's losses need attention. Certainly aging and limitations that accompany it deserve attention. Once you acknowledge the loss and grieve it, you can more easily move on to a place of hope. Then it's easier to be with what is rather than constantly living in anger, resentment, shame or fear about what was and what's ahead. What needs attention in your life today?

Life's smaller losses

We take so much for granted, don't we? Physical ability. Mental acuity. Family. Friends. Home. Job. And so much more.

We take things for granted ... until we lose them, that is. Suddenly, our attitudes shift a bit and we realize the delicate and tenuous nature of so much of life. Sometimes we lose something in one swift move. A job is gone. Our house goes underwater financially—or a tornado or hurricane claims it. Loved ones die. And we need to work through a cycle of grief before we can move on to whatever becomes our "new normal."

Other times, we lose something we had counted on a piece at a time. As we age, our physical abilities—and, yes, our mental acuity as well—are part of that gradual decline. We can't carry as much as we used to, we can't stay up as late, we don't have quite the endurance or stamina we once had. We don't remember things as well as we did. It's more difficult to recognize those losses because they're so gradual. Of course, sometimes we see those losses offset by increased wisdom, a feeling of being more comfortable in our own skin, a better perspective on life, etc. But they are still losses and we do well to recognize that—and move on to our "new normal."

Awareness is key

At my book club meeting the other night, the facilitator for this month's book asked us whether we'd ever had a tragedy or painful event in our life turn into a blessing.

Several of us recounted experiences that had been devastating and painful but that eventually yielded blessings and positives we'd never expected. A job loss and closed door eventually yielded an open window and led to a far better career. A divorce led to discoveries and a new life never imagined. Multiple job losses led to personal growth and discoveries that were life-giving.

We all agreed, however, that the important thing is to develop an awareness for such blessings. Stay awake and aware. Sometimes we sleepwalk through life and miss opportunities that quietly enter our lives and then slip away because we weren't paying attention. Sometimes we're so mired in our hurt and pain that we get stuck there. We don't even allow for the possibility of good things happening again.

How can you nurture awareness? It helps if you keep yourself cleared out. Be sure to tend to your losses. Do the grief work necessary so you really can move on. You aren't ready for new dreams until you've grieved the old one. And I don't just mean the big losses such as death, divorce or job loss. I mean grieve anything that you feel as a loss—friends moving away, job changes (even when they're good, they contain change and loss), decline in abilities as you age, vacation plans gone awry or anything else about which you are sad. Feel the sadness. Cry. Talk about it. Do whatever you need to do to move on. Stay clean and clear inside. Be ready for life's blessings!

Life 'bites' sometimes

So I got really depressing news Sunday afternoon about what I owe in both state and federal taxes this year—that despite already paying a substantial amount in federal taxes by withholding and quarterly payments. Ouch, that was news I hadn't expected. My tax preparer was so surprised that she ran the numbers again a couple times, too.

So what was I to do? Wail and gnash my teeth! Throw a bit of a Pity Party, for starters. I let my fiance pamper me, and I complained about it all to my sons.

But once the Pity Party was over, I set about learning what my options were. Once I learned my options, reviewed them in depth and selected the least onerous one, I engaged in some reflection time. And, of course, that's when it was time to switch back into gratitude mode. That reflection time was really time well spent!

I still have my health. I didn't receive a devastating diagnosis and am not dealing with a life-threatening illness. I have people whom I love and who love me. I have a home, food and clothes. And I have so much more. In a few months, the pain of this will be behind me. Really, it isn't even the worst thing that's ever happened to me.

It is, however, just another reminder to me of what I said in yesterday's blog: to live in gratitude, we must acknowledge and grieve losses (this felt like a huge loss to me) and also celebrate successes. I couldn't get back to living in gratitude until I'd really felt the sting of "losing" that money to taxes! Truly, life does bite sometimes.

Grief as a doorway

I'm aware of so many people for whom this entire holiday season is painful. Some have only recently experienced major loss, whether the death of a loved one, job loss or an awful medical diagnosis. Others have no family or close friends with regular traditions at the holidays. And some have memories of holidays past when they did experience loss. My heart goes out to all who find themselves wishing they could wake up tomorrow well into the month of January. It's not an easy time for them.

Each one of us experiences loss, sadness and grief so differently. Some people bury it deeply inside and carry on in stoic fashion. Others wear their pain and hurt openly. Some cry and cry. Others don't shed a tear. Some move on without examining their loss and grief. Others work hard to experience it, let go and move on. There isn't a right or wrong way. There's simply your authentic way of handling it.

I was really struck by a comment on Facebook last week because it speaks to my particular way of dealing with grief. The writer said, "Grief is a felt experience of love for something lost.... That is an incredibly powerful doorway."

The image of a doorway resonated deep within me. I always want to believe that once I experience the pain and once I get to the point of letting go, the entire experience will have been an open doorway to me for I-know-not-what. I have no idea what lessons or new dreams lie beyond that doorway. Not until I walk through. But grief almost always has, eventually, provided that "incredibly powerful doorway" for me.

What's been your experience of grief and loss? How do you get through? Do the holidays exacerbate this for you? If so, be sure to find someone with whom to talk about it. You don't have to suffer alone.