A Listening Binge

For the past several weeks, I have been on a listening binge and it feels healing.

 

There are a number of family members and friends who are going through various kinds of difficult personal situations and, in trying to be helpful, I have been listening to what they tell me they want to talk about, in particular what it feels like to be in their crisis, what they really wish they could do to solve it and how frustrating it is to have the situation go on and on.

 

Listening may seem as though it is a passive activity but it is definitely not.  I'm not just sitting in my chair staring vacantly at the person talking and letting my eyes roam around the room, thinking about something else that is totally unrelated to the person's thoughts nor am I just holding my phone up to my ear, doodling away on a piece of paper or reading something on my computer screen instead of listening to their words.

 

Pablo Picasso's The Flowers of Peace

I am listening to hear what they intend to say but are not exactly saying.  Listening is another way to show I care, that I am interested in them and invested in their troubles as I focus on the backstory of their words.  As in when they say they are angry about something, I sometimes get the feeling that they really mean to say they are scared.  I'm listening with my heart as I'm trying to understand and support.  It's an emotional exchange because we need each other to help figure out what our crazy creative lives are all about and sometimes we are too close to interpret what's going on. 

I also know that they would do the same for me if I needed to talk to them about my life and that creates a solid unspoken feeling of trust.  We have each other's backs so to speak.

 

Listening is a time to learn about the other person for they are pouring out their thoughts, emotions or sometimes both to you.  I have known some of these people for decades and am still learning new things about them and they way they feel about life.  I try to imagine what it would feel like to be the other person who is trying to deal with whatever the situation is.  And if I'm doing listening well, which I hope I am, then I sometimes feel as if I'm going through the problem too.
 

If you can't think of anything to say to someone who is handling a rough situation, you can always offer to support them through the gift of listening.

Listening is a way of honoring someone's story.

 

Can You Hear Me Now?

It's one thing to forget to turn your cell phone off and then have it ring while you are in church, in a job interview, at a funeral or in a theater, but it takes some major manipulation of a person's ego to actually answer it while they are in those places.

 

Right?

 

Someone I didn't know sat next to me during a play and her cell phone started ringing.  I immediately looked at her and she started searching her purse to find the phone.  I assumed that once she found it, she would just turn it off.  Wrong!! She actually answered it and started whispering that she couldn't talk because she was at a theater performance.

 

Say what??!!

 

 

Forgetting to turn off my cell phone has only happened to me once and the embarrassment was enough so that I always check to make sure my phone is off when it should be.  I was in a large meeting some years ago with an executive of the company I worked for at that time and my cellphone started ringing.  I truly had forgotten to turn it to silent. I quickly put my hand in my purse and turned it off.  Luckily I caught it after the first ring!

 

But yesterday I read a story that tops everything.  Caleb Wilde, a young funeral director, posted on his blog, Confessions of a Funeral Director (www.calebwilde.com), that a colleague who is also a funeral director told him about a funeral service where the pastor's cell phone unbelievably began to ring in the church while the pastor was addressing those gathered to pay their respects.  I don't even want to think about the possible songs this pastor might have used as a ringtone. 

 

As if the ringing wasn't bad enough, the pastor then actually answered his cell phone while the service stopped and he then went on to confirm a time for a golf appointment in front of the whole congregation. Then he went on with the funeral service as though his actions on the cell phone were perfectly normal and within the bounds of good etiquette.

 

Not!!

 

How hard is it to turn off a cellphone or put the cell phone on vibrate during a funeral or anywhere else where you should not be talking?  I'm sure that the pastor probably received a few well chosen words from the family of the deceased after that church service. 

Has anything similar happened to you?  I would be interested in hearing about your experiences with cell phones ringing in places that surprised you.

Pushing Those Emotional Buttons

I have three sisters and two brothers who are younger than me.  Yes, I am the oldest of six children and we are very close in age.  Such a cast of loved ones has made, and continues to make for many great stories and many great memories.

 

I would say I talk to at least one of my sisters every day and sometimes I talk to all three of them during the coarse of one day.  That's a lot of yakking, right?  Not really because we also email and text each other.

 

In our own unique ways, each one of us has learned that life can be fabulous yet fragile.  Our conversations reflect those learning experiences and as such have become a lot more open and honest.  We have learned the hard way that even though you know what button you can push to get a reaction from a fellow sister, that it's not a good thing or even a kind thing to push it.  Pushing the button can sometimes instantly take away all the good feelings that we worked so hard to create and then you find yourself walking back a lot of what you said and doing that wastes a lot of time and a lot of energy.

 

 

Your emotional buttons will always be there but I have found that even if the button is pushed you have a responsibility to yourself and the other person not to react the way you did when you were younger.  In other words, just because something is said, it doesn't mean you have to take it personally or emotionally and go off the deep end.  Most of us find there is already enough drama in our daily contacts with strangers, we certainly don't need an extra dose in our personal lives.  I think you can acknowledge that you know the button's been pushed but then you can say something like, "Okay, I know that what you just said made you feel a hell of a lot better, but let's talk about what's really going on here."

 

Life is just too short to carry around a lot of emotional baggage every day.

 

You have to figure out when to let go of a behavior and change course.  Think of how much mental energy it takes for you to think about what happened to you, what was said to you, who said it, and then stir it all up until it becomes some kind of foaming emotional cocktail that you carry around with you every day with a big cherry on top.

 

I'm tired just thinking about it. 

 

Instead, I try to jump back from what happened, look at it, figure out what my foolish role was in it and learn something from it.  If an apology is needed, I apologize.  If the person is just venting, I ask if that is what is going on.  If I am annoyed, I go back to the person (not always right away) who got under my skin.  Like the other day, I caught myself.  I could feel that I just wanted to argue the old way of saying something sarcastic.  But I stopped myself, and put myself out there a bit and said, "I don't want to argue.  I just want to find a solution."

 

Take time to reflect on the negative things that happen to you because we can learn from them (ouch!) but don't make those things that annoy or hurt you the centerpieces of your life.  You are so much better than that.  At some point, you have to let go of it and toss it away.

 

Otherwise, the negativity will feed on itself, leaving little room for the great and good things that life will definitely bring your way.

 

Your Personal Path

Unlike many things in life, there is no right or wrong way to grieve.

There's really just your way.

 

Whether it's through talking, crying, or slowly processing your feelings privately, grief must be acknowledged.  If you try to suppress your grief feelings, they will only come back later on and sometimes they come back in unhealthy ways.

 

 

Even though others will probably try to suggest that you should do certain things at certain points in your grief process, it really and truly is up to you and what you feel comfortable doing.  There is no schedule.

Some people bury their feelings and hope that their sadness will go away on its own because life feels like a bad dream.  Others talk openly about their loved one and try to constantly share the fear, disappointment, frustration and guilt of their stories.  Many people find it comforting to set up memorials to their loved one and the process of setting up such a memorial starts the healing process for them.

 

But grief shakes us to the core and makes us question aspects of our lives that we once took for granted.

Below is a different kind of story about grieving that appeared on the website Hello Grief (www.hellogrief.org).  It is a story of a woman who grieved privately, away from others as she searched for the facts and the reasons for her loved one's death.  She tried to use the process of searching for answers as a distraction so she wouldn't have to think about what happened to her.

 

This story is one more way of creating a dialogue about grief and coming to an understanding about the complicated yet personal way that people decide to process their feelings of grief:

My Life As An Analytical Griever
By Emily Clark

How being an intellectual helped – and sometimes hindered – my grief.

Numerous studies have been done over the years that look at the ways that people grieve. A number of theories about the styles or patterns of grief have evolved from this research. Perhaps one of the best theories I have heard over the years contrasts emotional and analytical grieving.

Emotional grievers are probably the people we stereotypically imagine – loud outbursts of emotions and tears, heavily dependent on those around them, weeping on the shoulders of friends and strangers alike, fully immersed in the emotion of grief whether they are in public or at home.

Analytical grievers, on the other hand, are the people who often get a bad rap when it comes to their grief. These are the grievers who often experience their emotions when they are alone – they save the crying, weeping, and wailing for when they are alone. For me this usually meant breaking down in the car on the way to or from work or, when I just couldn’t take it anymore, in my office at work (thank goodness I didn’t work in a cubicle).

Because analytical grievers don’t often display much emotion in public, people around them often think they aren’t grieving “correctly” or at all. I remember a family member telling me 9 months after my husband had died that he didn’t think I was all that heartbroken because he hadn’t seen me ever cry. The truth was, I cried all the time. For hours and hours, every day. I just did it when I was by myself and didn’t have to worry about what others might think or how uncomfortable I might make them feel. It wasn’t until much later on in my grief journey that I realized that letting go and crying in public from time to time might actually have made me feel better. It would have saved me hours of agony trying to hold in my emotions as they built up and built up until I burst.

We analytical grievers also spend a great deal of time and our grief energy on trying to figure things out and get things done. For some this could mean hours poring over medical researching online, filling out forms, reading every book on grief possible, planning a funeral, or taking up every ounce of busy work available. While my family sat around scratching their heads in confusion, I insisted on going over every detail of my husband’s vehicle accident, over and over. I read the coroner’s report, witness testimony, and practically interrogated the first officers on scene until even they couldn’t take it anymore. I insisted on seeing what was left of my husband’s wrecked vehicle, despite all advice to the contrary. I immersed myself in book after book, seeking out literature that might hold the key to saving me from the mess I was in. For me this was all a part of trying to understand the how and the why of what had happened. I needed information. I needed answers.

Sadly, these answers never came. With every new detail I acquired, I felt as if I understood less and less. All the facts in the world couldn’t take away the simple truth: that my husband was gone and never coming back. Over time, my obsession of analyzing his passing became a distraction from my grieving. Rather than facing the truth and finding healing, I was distracting myself from the pain. Well…as much as one could anyway.

Eventually I began to realize that I would always be left with a multitude of unanswerable questions, and let myself drift into an ocean of pain and emotion. While I never lost that tendency towards trying to “intellectualize” my grief, I began to appreciate and embrace my emotional side as well. There was a delicate balance between trying to understand and just letting myself feel.

So if you or someone you know is grieving, I urge you to take a moment to consider your own grief style as well as theirs. Instead of questioning the way they express themselves, try to remember that there is no right way to grieve. For some, our comfort is in being alone and keeping busy. For others, healing comes from crying on the shoulder of a friend (or stranger). Whatever the case, I urge you to embrace your grieving style and respect the grieving style of those around you.

Our thanks to guest author Emily Clark for sharing her story here with us. You can read more of Emily’s journey through young widowhood on her blog.

Happy Talk

As a woman, I have had many conversations with men about all different kinds of subjects but after a certain amount of time, I can sometimes see their eyes glazing over in disinterest even as I am talking to them.

 

Most women instinctively know that they like to talk more than men.  I know that I really enjoy verbally taking a situation apart and talking about it and then verbally trying to put it back together again in search of a solution.  But I usually have to find a woman who will listen to me do this.

 

Even my husband would only listen for so long and then he would usually bark, "My God, get to the point!"

Courtesy of the New York Daily News

Well, the point today is that new research was just published in The Journal of Neuroscience concluding that a protein called FOXP2 is responsible for our ability to verbalize, and girls' brains contain higher levels of FOXP2 than boys' brains.

 

Now there seems to be scientific evidence that girls like to talk A LOT more than boys.  Research indicates that women say about 20,000 words a day and men only blurb out about 7,000.

 

After reading this, I wondered, "Is this one of the reasons why men prefer to be quiet about their grieving?"

 

I know some of this information is stereotypical but there is also some truth in the "Chatty Kathy" woman and the "Strong and Silent" man.  I do know a few men who like to chat but they are few and far between.

 

Some men resent being encouraged to talk about the emotions of their grief or even the particulars of how they are doing after the death of a loved one.  In general, men like to put their feelings into action such as doing some kind of activity with their hands.  They immerse themselves in their work and that is their way of processing their loss.

 

Talking is just not the first reaction men have to dealing with a trauma.

 

I read of one man who after his 20-year-old daughter lost control of her car and was killed, the father spent several weeks rebuilding a neighbor's fence that was damaged in an accident.  The father described this activity as crucial to his healing and to "getting me through those first two months."

 

Maybe men think that by verbally expressing their thoughts and feelings that then they are vulnerable, and that's not something they are comfortable with.  Or maybe they have had bad experiences with trying to put their emotions into words.

 

Doctors are beginning to discover that there is such a thing as "men's grief," a grief that is processed very differently than women's. It's not the wrong way or the right way.  It's just the way that belongs to men.  Men's methods of grieving shouldn't be evaluated by the way women deal with their grief because we know that everyone grieves differently no matter what their gender.

 

Since women know that talking makes them feel better, they automatically assume that talking will make men feel better.  And sometimes that's not true. 

 

Whatever the case, the only reason women want men to discuss their grief feelings is because repression of the hurt, the anger and the confusion that surrounds grief can only be unhealthy.  Unrecognized and unacknowledged grief will only become stronger and harder to tame.  Grief that's expressed outward is grief that's released and it then allows you to start a healing process.

 

Vive la difference!

 

Healing Therapy

 

Drawing By NYC Multiple Medium Artist Joe Mangrum

One of my sister has a shoulder that is frozen and she is going to a physical therapist to work through the incredibly stiff shoulder muscles and joint.  If the physical therapy doesn't work, then she may have to have surgery and she really doesn't want that to happen.

 

We were talking about her physical therapy and she was telling me about how the therapist told her that to really get the exercises to work and unlock the muscles and joint that the therapy would have to increase to another level and she asked my sister if she was prepared for the "wall of pain" that she would have to work through to achieve her goal.

 

My sister said she was prepared and she knew it was going to be bad; that it would be so painful that she probably would cry.  But she still is committed to the next level of therapy, know that it's going to be awful, but also feeling hopeful that this increased therapy could be successful.

 

This may sound random to you but the more that I talked to my sister about her "wall of pain"  the more I felt I was talking to her about processing grief.

 

New grief can be so painful that it feels as though a part of your body has been amputated and you are walking around in a state of hemorrhaging.  You need to just take each day as it comes and little by little, you will start to feel that the pain is decreasing. 

 

But there is still a core amount of pain that requires work from you.

 

I think this concept was the hardest part for me.  When my husband died, I was stumbling around and in a state of numbness.  Every day I was full of grief and pain.  What was I going to do?  I had just lost my husband and everything was falling apart.  I thought I could read about grief and think about grief and it would eventually disappear.  Not!

 

Months and months of just feeling terrible finally made me realize that I had to do some of the work myself.  I had to actively figure out how to make myself feel better.  I found a support group at a local hospital and in the beginning I talked to someone on the phone for one-on-one time.  Later on, I joined a group and went to sessions twice a month to talk about grief and rebuilding my life all over again.

 

It was exhausting but I am so glad that I took the first step and asked for help.

 

It's important for you to recognize that you need time to work through this loss of your loved one.  There is no way to know how long it will take you to process your feelings.  Everyone grieves differently and takes different paths in their grief journey.  I do think it's fair to say that healing can come in cycles of ups and downs.

 

You have to confront your "wall of pain" and feel it.  The processing of this pain is hard for you are giving yourself permission to remember all the good things and all the bad things that your loved one was to you.  Write it down, shout it out, talk to a therapist, talk to a friend, paint it, take a shower and cry or go running and cry.

 

But get it out. 

 

Vent your feelings and thoughts and work through you "wall of pain."  You are releasing the pain and the hurt and the anger and the frustration and the confusion of not knowing what you are supposed to do next.

 

And in releasing your "wall of pain" you are empowering yourself and moving forward. 

 

For grief that you hold within yourself only keeps hurting and hurting.

 

 

Courtesy of NYC Multiple Medium Artist Joe Mangrum

 

 

Sometimes A Decision Is Made For You

 

 

 

 

Maybe it's a bit of an election "hangover" or perhaps a reflection of my personal life, but lately it seems as though I have been on a decision-making bender of sorts.

Has this ever happened to you?  I'm not sure if it's true for you or not, but when it's happening to me it feels as though I am going from one decision to the next with no breaks.  These decisions vary in importance -- from stuff around the house to personal issues -- but still they seem to keep coming at me with no end in sight.

Just when I think I am done with one decision, I barely get a chance to catch my breath and another one seems to be vying for my attention.  I remember reading somewhere that every time you make a decision, the process of trying to arrive at what you should do takes a little bit of energy out of you each time.  If this process goes on long enough, you can either burn out or start making some bad decisions.

And then sometimes, a decision is made for you.

 

Besides writing and researching this blog and my full-time job, I also have been writing and editing a bimonthly newsletter for Sibley Hospital's bereavement support group for the past seven years.  I once belonged to this group after my husband died and I don't know what I would have done without their help.  The group was the best thing that ever happened to me and it was a great experience!

 

After I left the group (you can only belong for two years), I wanted to give back and help others rebuild their lives after their loss, so I volunteered to oversee the newsletter and I'm so glad I did.  But now I am saying good-bye to the newsletter because several relatives are dealing with serious health conditions and I want to help them in any way I can.

 

I tried to juggle all of it for months but eventually I could see that I need to let someone else take over the newsletter.  There truly is a time for things to begin and end and it's hard to let go but other things become more important and then it is taken out of your hands. 

 

For the past seven years, I have talked to lots of people in different stages of grieving and done hours and hours of research about what to expect in the grief process and how to gain strength and slowly go on with your life.  My goal with the blog and the newsletter is to give women and men, parents and children, friends and relatives who are recently widowed lots of resources so they know they are not alone.

 

The newsletter and my blog are also places where all aspects of grief are a mainstream topic; to help people feel they can talk about it without getting that look from others that basically says "Uh oh, I gotta get out of here because I know this person is going to get upset."

If there is one thing that I have learned about grief, it is this: you have to talk about it.  Who you talk to isn't important, but you have to express to someone how you feel because if you don't you will constantly carry it around and it will increasingly become a bigger emotional burden.

This decision about the newsletter now feels like the right thing thing to do.  Life has a way of moving you along.  There is a time to fight it and then there are times to make peace with it and accept it.

Peace!

Grounded To The Ground

Staying Grounded

Have you seen that television commercial where the couple is test driving a new car in the desert and then later someone off camera asks them why they liked it?

The man says something about wheel rims on the tires and the way the car felt when he was driving it and then the woman says more good stuff about the car and ends the commercial by saying it felt "grounded to the ground."  The guy off camera can't believe she has expressed herself this way and he repeats "grounded to the ground" as though it were a question and then she laughs while saying the phrase again.

It's not just the words "grounded to the ground" that crack me up but it's also the way that she says it.

It's funny and at the same time the phrase strikes a chord with me these days.  Most people do want to feel as though they are "grounded to the ground."  Stability and reliability are good things.  It's reassuring to know that certain things will work or happen at certain times.  And that you can count on certain people to be there for you when times are tough.

 

It's very unsettling when you feel as though parts of your life that you can't control are flying in whatever direction they want.  You start to wonder what will happen next because you didn't anticipate these events AT ALL!  I can't be more specific because other people would prefer that I not go on and on about it in my blog.  But I am trying to take my own advice about slowing down, taking a deep breath, and keeping life's unexpected events in perspective.

I have nothing against spontaneity but lately there have been too many health surprises in our family and I now find myself wishing for consistently healthy days for everyone I know.  While writing this post, I am drinking a cup of hot herbal tea and channeling good, peaceful and calming thoughts.  Yes, I have been praying too and that helps to destress my thoughts and feelings.  Knowing that I am not alone in this huge.

 

So I continue to mentally sort through my emotions, talk, talk, talk to friends and family and share all of this with you my wonderful readers which definitely helps me feel more "grounded to the ground."

 

Thanks for being here today!!

Can We Tawk?



Reach out and listen

 No matter what phase of grief you find yourself in, people usually are curious to know if what they are feeling and doing is the "normal" way to handle this kind of situation.  I think this happens because it's generally an accepted social norm that grief is not a subject to be talked about as freely and as frankly as you might discuss other subjects, say food or men.

People don't bring it up because they think it will upset you, they are uncomfortable with their emotions or they just have no idea what to say.  They think they will say the "wrong" thing so they don't bring it up all.  I think it's time to get over it because it's better to say something indicating that you care about this person and what has happened to them, than to ignore the issue altogether.

At some point in your lives, whether you like or not, someone you love deeply or care about a lot is going to die.  Unfortunately, it's just a fact of life.  Even the most OCD person in the whole wide world can't change this from happening.  That's why every day is truly a gift.

It's not a fact that anyone likes to think about or deal with -- myself included -- however, there it is; out there looming for you to either pretend it won't happen to you or you can grab it and own it.

If you grab it, you have to know that it's going to be scary at first.  There's a lot of pain and soul searching involved.  But lots of us have suffered too and we're there right along side of you.  Good strong relationships among family and friends and a sense of belonging to something bigger than yourself are essential to overcoming pain and suffering and starting the process of recovery.  You are not alone.

Since we know that different people take different steps in dealing with their grief, here is some insight from food writer Julia Turshen that I hope you will agree is touching and helpful.  Turshen recently wrote about her father's grief on the website, Goop.  Here is her story:

"After the passing of my grandfather this past spring, I spent some time at home.  My family spent the immediate week deep in grief and in the strange, calm love that trails its way through grief.  One morning, days after the funeral and all the rituals we're prescribed to deal with such a huge loss, I was sitting in my parents' living room, the one my father so precisely and affectionately designed, flipping through a book.

My father came in and we talked for a moment, everything copacetic.  He was on his way out of the room when he paused ever so slightly.  He didn't say anything, there was just hesitation in his movement.  I asked him if he was okay and he replied that he was having a hard time.  I had nothing to say.  My father had just lost his parent and was experiencing an enormous vacancy that nothing could or ever will replace; the only possible comfort, it seemed, was the knowledge of the wonder that once filled the space.

It suddenly hit me that this wasn't my parent in front of me nor was it my closest friend (though he is both things).  This was someone's child and, beyond that, what he is to me was just taken from him.  In this realization, in this pretty straightforward but somehow profound realization, I hugged my father and he cried for quite awhile.  I don't know how long we stood there, it doesn't matter.  What matters is how safe we both felt, how honest and unabashed that exchange was."

Liam Neeson

I am always on the look-out for stories where people open up and reveal how they handle their feelings of grief.  As you know, the subject of grief is not considered to be a mainstream topic of conversation because it is such an emotional minefield.  To do so means revealing deep pain and vulnerability; which is hard for anyone to do; but especially hard if you are a celebrity or a public official.

It can be almost impossible to get men to talk about how they feel about most things -- unless it's a sports team or a political party -- so it was a wonderful surprise this week when actor Liam Neeson was in the news because he talked to Esquire magazine about the death of his wife actress Natasha Richardson in 2009 at the age of 45.  Neeson deserves a lot of credit for talking candidly to a men's magazine about how he survived her death that was caused by a skiing accident in Canada.  Just by the fact that it took him almost two years to talk about this tragic event shows how hard it can be to adjust to the death of a loved one along with the added responsibility of becoming the sole parent of two young sons.

Neeson's comments go a long way in showing that slowly you can begin to heal and that while he is trying to get on with his life he recognizes the benefits of talking about what he and he sons dealt with after Natasha Richardson's death.  He told Esquire magazine that initially you think that you know what grieving will be, but then it turns out to be something entirely different.  Doesn't that sound familiar?

In case you missed it, here are a few excerpts from Neeson's Esquire  magazine interview:

-- "It's easy enough to plan jobs, to plan a lot of works.  That's effective.  But that's the weird thing about grief.  You can't prepare for it.  You think you're gonna cry and get it over with.  You make those plans, but they never work."

--  "I think I survived by running away some.  Running away to work."

--"It hits you in the middle of the night -- well, it hits me in the middle of the night.  I'm out walking.  I'm feeling quite content, and it's like suddenly, boom.  It's like you've just done that in your chest."