All this shall pass
Today I’m musing on grief and loss, a state that we will most probably all find ourselves experiencing at some point in our lives.
I lost someone dear to me quite suddenly at the start of this year. She’d been such a cheerleader and warm supporter in my life over the years. So here I am sharing some thinking on this strangely taboo subject.
In between the moments of feeling the intensity of the big hole that had opened up… I started seeking sense and a way forward.
For me this loss felt a little different from other losses I had experienced. Was this because of how sudden it was? Or that she wasn’t so old and it seemed too soon? Or was it because, despite our closeness we’d not managed to see each other in the last few years and there was some regret woven in with that loss? Perhaps it was the role she had played for me throughout my childhood, teens and on as a young adult… a wonderful balancing voice of sense and support, was the pain about what I no-longer had? A grieving for myself?
After the immediate shock of a death, people can often turn to regrets. What they hadn’t said or done. Looking backwards and adding to their sadness with thoughts of what can’t be changed and wishes that can’t be granted. In many ways I’m lucky with my loss, I got a message to her in the hospital and said what I needed to say, a sort of goodbye. Not everyone gets to do that. What can you do with the regrets you might be experiencing? The only answer is that the past can’t be changed, so what is left, but to look forward? By talking things through you can change your perceptions of past events and bring some perspective in. Perhaps start to see things through some different lenses and from different angles to help make sense and move forward.
How to honour the person who is gone? …you have got to make every breath count. Go live the best possible life you can for them.
I was feeling regrets about missed opportunities to spend time together. I know what she would have said to me about this; something along the lines don’t be daft! She’d be happy that I had been off enjoying living my life. Beside my own thinking I came across some wise advice, about how to honour the person who is gone… you have got to make every breath count. Go live the best possible life you can for them. This is how to honour and remember them.
Some people take this advice and transform the hurt into good; they get out there and start foundations and charities, give time to good causes in memory of the lost loved one. Some people give living their best life the best possible shot they can and go and do all the things they meant to do, meet all the new people, see the new things and feel as alive as they can. There is some scientific support for this approach working. Paul Boelen - Dutch professor of clinical psychology says;
“It is really important to keep living an active life, even when it’s the last thing you want to do… No matter how hard it is, research has shown that it’s healing to continue with your normal life as much as possible. People who do this are, in the long run, more capable of handling their loss. Go outside, seek out friends. It not only provides distraction, it also helps you see that life still has meaning.”
“It is really important to keep living an active life, even when it’s the last thing you want to do…”
This doesn’t mean that you turn off or ignore the sadness. It is more you learn to live alongside it. Grief is a strange thing within our culture, because although we are so likely to experience it, people just don’t really talk about it. It makes them uncomfortable, they aren’t sure what to say. They worry they will upset you by bringing it up. Why is this occurrence, which is part of living a taboo in our society? My own thoughts on this are that it is something to do with the reluctance to discuss what is seen as negative emotions. What if grieving is reframed as part of a safely predictable cycle, one swing of a pendulum, a dip in the roller coaster ride, might that help? A quote from an old Persian fable, sums this reframing up; “This too shall pass”
I don’t want to appear to be over simplifying the complex process of grieving. Like many things it is unlikely to travel a nice neat and predictable path. Manu Keirse a Flemish professor of grief and bereavement compares grief to a dance;
“You take three steps forward and two steps back, there are good days and bad ones”
There is a societal reluctance to share the negative emotions or days when we are taking two steps back. Because of this people in this dance can feel shame mixed in with their sadness and that they are on their own. Seeking support and sharing the dance with others who can empathise or relate can be very important and powerful to do.
There are many ways to do this including specialist services around grief and bereavement, sharing with those close to us or in more abstract and less direct ways. Solace and solidarity can sometimes be found in the arts, literature and out in nature. Sometimes it is more powerful to share a feeling without words, experiencing nature, music or art can be quite transformative in this sort of non-verbal communication and connection.
I’m going to finish this blog musing with two things...
Firstly to share a thought on grief in this quote;
“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”
― Jamie Anderson
Surely, love in all its shapes is so much a part of being alive?
Secondly, with the thought of being alive in my mind… I’m sharing a positive I draw from the sadness of loss. The experience can intensify your appreciation for life. It can be reframed as; cherish what you have, because life is strong and vibrant in all its colours, while strangely fragile and fluid.
Get out there and honour your lost ones by being brave and living your life the very best you can!