There's nothing like loss to cancel your to-do list and plans. There's nothing like grief to erase what you thought was top priority. In the wake of what was, we must lay aside the demands of the world, attending to what's "in your face."
Sometimes loss is literal: the death of someone you love. Sometimes the grief involves what I have come to call a "living loss." Living losses include, but are not limited to: lost dreams, profound disappointments or betrayals, untoward changes in health, work, relationships, or abandonments, that feel like a "hit and run." Sometimes the loss comes when someone dear suddenly turns away from you abruptly, with a hardened heart.
While grief may be thought of as a noun, anyone experiencing it knows full well that grief is an altered raw state, a dynamic at work that affects not only the one who grieves. Deepest grief comes in waves. In the throes, we are confronted with unpolished and un-manicured scary parts of ourselves. When the ground of what we thought once was slips away, this is an earthquake no one else can measure. Historical identity flies out the door. Self-created illusions of certainty predictability vanish. When the loss is big enough, we are left impotent to fix it. No wonder many opt out through anything that will numb the pain and anxiety. But when our favorite method of self-medication/excess fails to work long term, making matters worse, we are left to face the inevitable. We live in an ever-changing universe. What is present today will not last forever. Nothing alters this fact.
The 10 Essentials to a Grief Well Met
Herein comes the challenge. We must accept there is nothing to fix. As my friend Linda puts it: "There is nothing to do or undo." All we can hope for is that out of the present darkness something unexpected will flower beautifully in the garden of our heart. This is possible. In fact, it is highly probable to the degree we are willing to roll up our sleeves and meet our loss with authenticity and sincere intention to find growth where it seems least likely. Following are 10 aspects to consider:
1. "Harden not my heart." While tough times can bring out the best in people, it can also bring out the worst. Our words can turn nasty, our temper impatient, our desire for retaliation inflamed. Reacting, rather than quietly responding, hardens the heart. When this happens, may we meet our grief with self-compassion. When the worst in me flares, my practice is to send forth a request to that which lives deepest in and through me that goes like this: "Harden not my heart."
2. When our disposition turns sour, may we press the pause button and seek what restores our Spirit in the natural world. Leaving the phone behind, simply going for a walk in a beautiful spot in nature, while practicing deep breathing can bring back perspective and ease in the system.
3. Find evidence of new life before you. One method is to wear your watch on your opposite wrist, reminding you, every time you check the time to take time to notice something new or fresh. Breathe deeply. Life is here.
4. Collect these demonstrations daily. Record them in a demonstration journal, a reference for the future when you need a reminder, that "spring" will come again.
5. Recall we have choice. Life is fragile, fleeting. We have the capacity for mean-spiritedness or warmth, depending on what we choose. A sharp look, a mean word, a thoughtless gesture with those we encounter, might be our last communication. Is this the legacy we wish to leave behind?
6. Always, there is an opportunity to clean up our mess. Where I have caused injury, I can do my best to make things right. There is no guarantee, however, that this will change the situation. The only guarantee is that expanding the way we treat ourselves, and others, in the fire of pain, will surely open our own heart.
7. Facing the most difficult with self-compassion and kindness brings forward the possibility for what Chogyam Trungpa called an "enlightened society." Not only we, but our children's children are the beneficiaries of our intention.
8. Grief can give way to grace. I'd heard the word "grace," before my son was killed 21 years ago this March 21. But it was not until afterward, sitting in my wingback chair, when I simply could not hold the pain any longer by myself, did I experience grace. One minute, from the bottom of my heart, everything in me silently screamed, beseeched that presence beyond my understanding: "Help me, I cannot do alone." From some inexplicable place, a deep and abiding calm washed through me so profoundly that I've never been the same since. The burden had been lifted. Now, I'm not saying that my bereavement was over. I am saying, however, that this altered my relationship to it and to my life. In an instant, I knew the meaning of these words:
"Help us to be always hopeful Gardeners of the spirit Who know that without darkness Nothing comes to birth. As without light, Nothing flowers." -- Kali "A Grain of Mustard Seed"
9. Grief well met affords us the opportunity to untangle ourselves from what no longer serves life well lived. Resisting experience lessens the joy of living. Experience need not be pleasant to find joy. Joy comes from leaning into and "giving over" the burden, trusting that who we are is much, much more.
10. Welcoming whatever comes sets us free to welcome life in all its forms, without attachment or resistance, and with connection to all who have known this experience in the universe. One day, as I was untangling myself from feelings of self-pity that bereavement can bring, I saw a robin feeding her newly-hatched in apple tree outside my window. Suddenly, one of her babies over-reached and fell out of the nest, hitting the ground dead. As I witnessed mama bird fly to the side of her fallen, I became aware of all creatures who birth and know loss. We were One. I could send her compassion, and it returned ten-fold.
11. Let the "whole" find you from the "hole." There is no instant fix to suffering. Whenever I am asked "can you get over it?" by the bereaved, I respond as follows. "The real issue is are you willing to grow through your loss?" A well-met grief teaches there is a presence beyond the personality. What has been hidden behind our self-constructed personality shows itself as new expansions of who we've believed we are as they begin to shine and bloom. Become faithful to what can flower, even if you cannot see or name it yet. Hold the space, for the yet to emerge. It will come if you choose.
More on "living losses," in weeks to come. Today's piece is in memory of you, Matt. So many thanks for the love that remains.
And now, A Love Letter to the One Who Grieves:
Days like today are bitter reminders that life is neither fair nor easy. There are no words for times like this. Neither pretty nor profound words can ease your pain, take away the source of what you suffer. Every loss is different. I would not presume that what I experienced when I lost my son is what is so for you.
What I can tell you is that I know you are out there, doing the best you can. As I think of you, I remember to breathe more deeply for the two of us. As I think of you, I thank life for who you are, for your sincere heart, even in times like these. When I meet a stranger on the street, I think of you, that this might be you. Of course, I do not know, but, I act "as if," just in case.
May I wish you ease in the system? May you be free from careless remarks or unwanted advice. May this day and evening bring you comfort. May you be reminded that spring will come again, even in the hardest winter of the soul. May you be reminded in infinite ways that you are not alone.
My love your way,
Cara
Your turn: How have you, or someone you know, grown from grief? I'm listening!
New: For those who have asked, the first copies of "The Love Project: Coming Home" are now available in first printing. Contact me, below.
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Joseph Nowinski, Ph.D.: When Does Grief Become Mental Illness?
Loren Ridinger: Can You Die of a Broken Heart?
Leann Reynolds: The Grieving Garden: Simple Ways to Cope With Trauma and Loss
Judith Johnson: The Death and Dying Series Part Three: Transforming the Culture of Death in America
Coping with Grief and Loss: Support for Grieving and Bereavement
The 5 Stages of Loss and Grief | Psych Central
Grieving and Healing - 5 Steps to Help You Through the Grieving ...
Elaine Mansfield www.elainemansfield.com
Thank you for your patience. If you have been waiting for a response, it is coming! I've decided to do a Web fast on weekends, in order to replenish, renew, so that I have more juice when I am here... Know that I will return to your responses, hopefully each of them, before this Wednesday, when the next post is up.
Much joy to you and yours,
Cara
In my heart,
Cara
It is grand to see you here. Thank you for your patience. (please see above.) My dear, the finest thing you can say to me is that your heart is touched. This is sacred stuff, as far as I am concerned: two hearts daring to touch, be touched, reach out, in a world hellbent on staying asleep and missing the point of the joy of what IS.
Your comment about grieving the living is something I am 'cooking on,' and am intending to place some focus. It is a subject near and dear to my heart. Bless you for underlining the importance of it. This is just the nudge I needed.
Hang in there with me, and I will do what I can on the subject you are sharing. I call you my sister.
With love and gratitude,
Cara
I miss my grandfather. But I find joy in discovering the many ways in which the memory of his life- and his death continue to enrich my own.
Again, gratitude! I look forward to exchanging ideas with you in the future. (It's always nice to find thoughtful people with whom to engage here on Hufpo!) Cheers,
F&F
You are mentioning/referencing jewels here, my dear. If anyone has not picked them up, I would suggest doing so. As an avid reader all my life, (mostly nonfiction) , I understand the foundation you have created for facing life's realities.
The scene you describe with that casket touches me with a similar memory of my lost ones. It changes us, or, perhaps, in the best of ways, winnows down our beliefs as to what is important from what is not.
Your grandfather surely is part of a beautiful granddaughter/or grandson.
Peace to you,
Cara
Do come back for a visit! fanning
May this weekend bring you a beautiful bouquet of all that renews, uplifts,
Cara
I am noticing that my responses are not showing yet. Hmm. Perhaps the staff is overwhelmed with demands today.
Meanwhile, I send you and them my best,
Cara
http://youtu.be/X-PTafd-ymQ
xxoo
Cara
Every time I look at my 3 kids I think of your words, your victory to heal and your strength to show us a place no parent wants to go.
I am so grateful to mountains: what a splendid creation and resting place for our concerns, hopes and dreams. We are constantly in a state of 'pregnancy', childbirth, and child-raising metaphorically, and sometimes physically, simply by living each day as a worthy creation.
Your 'kid-oes' are mighty fortunate, as are you. So, so much love your way. You are such a gift. 'My' Matt would love you and yours, of this I am certain.
Do stay in touch, my friend,
Cara
I mentioned yesterday, on the 21st anniversary of my son's departure day from this earth, that I would be out in the world, in life, celebrating the day. Miracles abound. Truly. Today, as I rejoin you, and I will be doing so periodically, as best I can, I received a message from a young man I met over 20 years ago where I was speaking on the east coast. His name was Matthew. He did not know why he was reaching out at this time, (I've never heard from him before), but he recalled a 'chance meeting' where we had a little exchange. It had to do with love and writing. I know he would love our 'Cafe' and you. May your day be filled with infinite reminders that what thrills the heart is here, right here, right now.
Peace and blessings,
Cara
May the miracle of spring renewed be in your heart, always.
Cara
What a genuine and brave message you send. You are correct. Energy never dies, only form. This is part of the great puzzle of being human: allowing Life to touch us deeply, to experience that level of vulnerability and connection, heart to heart, and in being fully present, also saying 'yes' to letting go of form, when it is time. I believe we are given experiences to reconnect with the Infinite that you describe, right here, right now, through the present breath. What I have found is that when the heart breaks, it opens us, allows illusions of separation to vanish, and expand our Awakening to Life itself, the joy of this precious gift.
I do so love you, my friend,
Cara
Namaste
When the heart is hard and parched up,
come upon me with a shower of mercy.
When grace is lost from life,
come with a burst of song.
When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting me out from
beyond, come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and rest.
When my beggarly heart sits crouched, shut up in a corner,
break open the door, my king, and come with the ceremony of a king.
When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust, O thou holy one,
thou wakeful, come with thy light and thy thunder
Rabindranath Tagore
This Tagore is stellar. I must calligraphy it when I get home. Ah, "...come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and rest..." Nothing like beauty, Gypsy: Tagore and you.
What a delight for the heart, dear one,
Cara
XOXOX.
My heart is with you! The loss of a good person - I know Matt was one - is a loss for all who remain; we do have the capacity to feel that combination of pain and joy as we realize what a fine and wonderful gift a life was, albeit short, and how it still fills our hearts.
It sounds simple to say: life’s losses should not be wasted... learned from, remembered and treasured, but not dwelled upon to the exclusion of living well. As you said, there are among us, strangers in pain, unidentifiable in passing; they too have the potential to live well, but may be 'stuck' within their loss.
When you wrote, "I do not know, but, I act ‘as if,’ just in case." a chord was struck, a harmonious confluence reverberating and driving out the dissonance of indecision. I know now that "just in case" is the first step in sharing and feeling together that pain and joy for a life. I may not be making lots of sense here, its 3:30AM, but it feels right.
Helping those mired in their loss is as simple and as complex as reaching out, speaking out, and going out of our way for our friends and those strangers among us… after all, they are not separate, they are us.
Sharing your pain of reflection and your joy of remembrance…
Lawson
So much love,
Cara
Re a couple of your latest comments (no [reply]), and golly, pretty much the rest of them too... you so often warm the heart and refresh the soul of those commenting herein, and I suspect the same for many who visit and resist the urge to reply... not that I presume to speak for them, but I will in this case for I know they will agree... thank you!
Warm and refreshed!
Lawson
P.S. 1001! but who's counting? :)
Living from 'just in case' makes oodles of sense to me. And, hey, the night before I was still awake at 3am, so we could have met at the Cafe. At any rate, we were meeting in the heart here, under the stars.
How grateful I am for the Gift of Life as it pours through your worthy heart and Wisdom Voice,
Cara
“Living from ‘just in case’ makes oodles of sense.” Yes!
You focused me on it, and now I have to formulate a way to include it in my daily approach to and interaction with others. Of course, one should avoid the assumption that every chance meeting is with a poor soul wallowing in a pit of despair; existing just beneath a brittle crust of well being.
So, how to approach it? How to be supportive without being intrusive, how to share without appearing to force yourself upon them, how to develop trust without suspicion, and how to show love when they most need it but may be closed to it… all so they can more easily “’return’ back to life.”
If I want to be part of and partner with the mass of people engaged in this pursuit, how to prepare, and equally important, how to help others prepare… just in case?
A grateful friend filling in the holes,
Lawson
P.S. I love the word “oodles”…. :p
As Cara wrote, " May you be reminded in infinite ways that you are not alone."
May you be guided and given the courage and strength along the path of your grieving process.
" Thinking" of you....
Gratefully,
Cara
Cara
Love,
Cara
What a memorable article ! I am feeling that it must have been somewhat difficult for you to write. You have tread the path out of darkness and present us with the flowers of compassion, comfort, peace, gentleness, understanding, genuine caring, empowerment... to mention a few.
Thank you for all that you do and for sharing so much of yourself and your experiences... amazing grace..
Gentle hugs your way..
P.S. Would you believe that the "lost" email ... your first response to me on comments on your last article, arrived in my email yesterday morning ... after 5 days !!
I appreciate why you shared. Actually, it was not a difficult piece to write because this has been my choice for all these years. My son was a soccer player, a really good athlete. When things on the field went in a direction the team did not like, he would simply call out "Play on. That's what we are here to do." I believed him then, and I believe this now.
Always, always, if we meet what is before us squarely, honestly, whatever it is will transform and bring us to the meaning of it all, which is, simply, but not necessarily easily: Love.
Your message is one more reminder of love.
As for the email: who can explain these mysteries? Not I!
All joy your way, onethot,
Cara
I’ve been watching Jupiter and Mars, or maybe it is Venus and Saturn, changing position in the western sky over the last week… that’s all I can see because of ambient light... poo!
I started the “neglected” blog a couple of years ago just to tap and exercise my muse, and to work out concepts here and there. Other sources and opportunities arose, but, I will return because I think in the end it is more than important, it is part of what I must do. The blog is at DaMoKi.com; an acronym for Dad Mom, & Kids… that which I consider central to all cultural problems and their cures. If you visit, take to time to read not just the last couple, but others, like the ones on “Trying” and “SpongeBob.” Be sure to let me know where I might improve!
About the Coors, I actually don’t enjoy carbonated beverages, so I can’t remember the last beer or even Coke that I drank… a fine Merlot, a sip of Jack Daniels, even a Rusty Nail, or mostly iced tea now and again will just have to do, but in the construction of that sentence, JD light just didn’t fit.
As for the ice, at $1.75/bag here in Indiana, I will take any extra you may have… :)
Well, it is 4AM… Nite!
Lawson
I just fanned you. I feel your heart. It is clear to me that you have been in the Down Under of the soul, in order to respond to the plight of Treyvon and his family in such a deep way. My dear, I am so sorry about the loss of your Tommy. As I wrote last week: we appear, we disappear, and we reappear. I would love to know more about your boy. What happened?
In that you are a member 'of the club nobody wants to join, (bereaved parents), you know well what is ahead for this young man's parents. You know well that we are each a part, a connection to the One Heart of humanity. Bless you for your outreach, your compassion, your journey.
Peace be with you, Patti, on this road filled with challenges and the fruit of traveling well, sincerely, generously, reverently.
Love from a sister on the path,
Cara
My mother lost two of her three children, both at age 19 respectively, and never recovered from her grief. She never overcame her loss, and drove everyone away from her. I lost not only my brother and sister, but my mother too. However, through all of this, I found my own coping skills. Though this may sound trite, I simply celebrate the life of those I've lost.
We can never replace those who have left us, but we can fill our hearts with fond memories and good times.
Again, Dr. Cara, my most profound sympathies to you and your family and friends on the anniversary of your son's passing.
Peace and love to you,
Paul
You are so welcome. I do appreciate your wishes so much. I also recognize your story, having seen it over and over. My mother lost babies unborn, and I recall the loneliness, the pervasive sadness in the house. Perhaps this was my informant when we lost Matt: I did not want my daughter to 'lose her mother' to this experience. Still, she ached, and I could do nothing to repair that pain. One of the hardest things I've ever had to do was tell her that her brother was gone. She was only eight, and the wound is still with her.
This is life, isn't it? We get to choose and rechoose every single day whether we wish to dwell in life, live it to the fullest, or look back and opt out. I say, let's move forward, wiser than we were before our losses, kinder, more compassionate, and surely more awake.
So much love your way, Paul,
Cara
And, you're absolutely right, this is life, and we don't get any practice time, it just happens. How we react will affect those around us. Personally, I believe that it's imperative to rise above adversity, and move on, just as you say.
May you enjoy Peace and Love in your memories of your son.
Paul
We never get over these deaths or loss but somehow we find the strength to accept and honor their lives and live as best we can.
peace and love to you,
H&H
My mother admitted to me, when I was in my mid-20's, that she had pretty much given up on living. How sad that was. It was then I realized that I would probably have to leave her behind, and just go on. Not even the birth of her grandson brought any spark to her.
Maybe this is my failing, but I just can't imagine giving up on the wonder of life, and what it brings us each day.
Thank you again for your kind words. I wish you and your loved ones all the best life can bring. May Peace and Love find a home with you always.
Paul