If you can relate to someone going through a difficult time, try to find the strength to let them know. Allow yourself to be vulnerable enough to revisit your own pain and to share it, in words or in energy. Let them know that you are there for them, and that you can empathize with what they're experiencing.
As a bereavement counselor, it is my job to help create a safe space to give voice to the unspeakable, and to companion others in their grief journey as they travel into the wilderness of their soul in search of their own inner knowing and truth.
The first motivational speaker in my life was my dad. He preached to us at an early age, when we asked for something, by saying, "Wish in one hand, sh*t in the other, and tell me which one fills up faster." Touché. We learned not to keep asking.
So when I picked up a recent call, I braced for impact! Some calls are really weird, other times someone is soliciting my business. This call wasn't a question about investing either.
I could pretend, but that pretending cost me. I could be reasonable, but telling that lie was exhausting. Now, when I read about grief, when I attend conferences that talk about grief, I think about those early days. I think about being reasonable. I think of how ridiculous that is.
What role does social media play in the grieving process? By studying trends, some researchers have been able to understand the motives and psychological focal point for this kind of activity.
Our beloved golden retriever, Murphy, recently passed away. He had been a wonderful member of our family for 13 years.
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a problem. Each one of us has a problem. In fact, no matter where you go on the planet, no matter who you find, every single person on Earth has this same dire problem.
You will likely always long for their physical presence, but recognizing that you still have a relationship is one way to soothe the sorrow. Staying connected fortifies you so that you can engage with life, connect to the living, and make meaning out of your loss.
Mom was hysterical. Equal parts angry, touched and relieved I wasn't with child. "How can I be mad?" she asked, I had hoped hypothetically. She loved it. But she was definitely kind of mad.
There's a problem: When Americans do reach the end of our lives, that same medical establishment finds it very difficult to let us go in peace.
Toward the end of the show's filming, a cast member named Eric Hill, who was booted fairly on, died in a paragliding accident. And Monday night, we finally got to watch what happened when the remaining cast members got the news.
Death is kind of like a bad break-up. There's a lot of ugly crying, fetal position dry heaves, binge drinking and subsequent after-hours spent reaching for the phone. The only difference is that, this time, there's no chance of reconcile.
It's almost a survival tactic to not be so human in New York because you simply can't be. You avert your eyes from stranger all the times because you can't afford to know their story -- good or bad -- because your life alone seems difficult enough without other people's problems.
On the morning of June 16th I received a call from my father alerting me that my grandmother, whom we affectionately called Nanny, had passed away ear...
I find myself grappling more and more with the prospect of death. Mine, yours, his, hers, all of ours, in this land of over 50. To tell you the truth I should say, the land of late sixties, because that's where I am now.