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.

 

A Generous Heart

I saw this letter yesterday and it reminded me that a new school year will be starting soon.  With the beginning of a new school year, perhaps teachers and student will be dealing with conflicting emotions about losses or illnesses that happened over the summer.

 

When a friend or an acquaintance is grieving from the loss of a loved one, it is natural to want to reach out and make them feel better.  One of the greatest gifts we can give is listening.  Even if you don't know what to say, we can always listen; listen as the person talks to you about their story of loss.  This is not a small thing.  Everyone needs to acknowledge what has happened to them in their own words.

But what should we do if we don't know the person very well?

 

They might be someone we work with or someone we see every day or maybe only once in a while.  In this instance, the letter I read concerned a teacher.  Teachers are in professional situations and they may not want or feel comfortable talking to the parents of the children they teach about their loss.

But still you want to show compassion. 

The following letter about acknowledging a teacher's recent loss was sent to Carolyn Hax, a writer and advice columnist for The Washington Post.  Below is the insightful guidance Carolyn Hax gave recently to a mother who wanted to help her daughter's teacher and ease her pain just a bit.

Photo Courtesy of New York Times

Dear Carolyn:

     My daughter is in the third grade, and her teacher lost her mother last week.  I'd like to know what we, as parents, should be doing right now for the teacher.  Sure, send a card and flowers.  But, we're not close friends or family, so I don't know what her day-to-day needs are.  I asked the school if I should come volunteer  a couple of days next week, but they don't even know if she 'll be back by then.  Do you have any suggestions?

                                                              Anonymous

Dear Anonymous:

My main suggestion is not to overdo it.  When people are grieving, they often use work as their place to be normal, to escape being The Person Who's Grieving.  Even expressing condolences can affect people's composure when they'd rather stay on even professional keel.*

You have a generous heart, and the offer to volunteer in the classroom is a good one that you can re-make when the teacher is back, ideally through the school and not through the teacher herself.  Having your daughter make/write the card would also be swell -- just keep your involvement to the kind that the teacher can respond/react to in private.

*Since things are never easy. . .  some people are terribly offended when no one says anything about their recent loss.  That's why it's so important to acknowledge the loss in some way if you haven't been asked not to.  Just, again, err on the side of discretion in professional situations.

Unwanted Care

How do you try to take care of someone when they don't want you to?

I'm sure you must know a person you care about and perhaps even love who doesn't want you to help them even though it is obvious that help is very much needed. You understand the frustration right? It's the frustation of no matter how hard you try to offer various kinds of support, you never are able to do the right thing, the thing that will make them happy.

This is what I know I can do: I call on the telephone, I listen, I try to empathize.  I visit as much as I can because nothing beats seeing someone in person.  I offer to run errands.  I bring food so the person won't have to cook and I clean while I'm in their house.

I think listening is the most important thing I can do because everyone knows that the more a person expresses his/her feelings, the better they feel.  There's no point in trying to get them to open up if they're not ready or willing to talk.

Most of all, I try to maintain a calm demeanor.

This is what I don't do: I don't offer suggestions.  I don't offer anything that could be viewed as a solution.  I don't ask too many questions.  I don't intrude into the other person's personal business.  I don't react to negative comments.

It's a constant balancing act but I care about this person so I keep striving to maintain the balance.

And so I keep on trying. . .

And trying. . . and trying.

Moving Day

I received a couple of texts over the weekend from a friend who lives in another city about how he now lives in a new place.

 

I didn't know he had moved from his home of almost 20 years so I was surprised by his news but I also knew that there was more to the story than just a regular heave-ho move from one place to another.

 

 

My friend lost his wife to cancer a number of years ago and she was a wonderful and talented person, but she also was the kind of person who kept everything.  She was not a hoarder but instead was a person who wanted to keep things so that she could pass these things along to other people because she knew that they would be perfect for someone else.  She kept all these things until she saw the person she had in mind or until she eventually got around to sending the item to the person.

 

This is why I knew that when my friend said he had just moved to a new apartment that it must have meant that he had come face to face with the dreaded day he had tried to put off for so long:  what to do with her possessions.

 

There are times when we all need to try and work through stuff by ourselves and then after a while of giving it our best shot, there comes a time when we need to talk to friends about what is going on.

 

And when what is going on is bad, I think the best thing to do is shut up and listen to the person who is going through a painful time. And listen. And listen some more until the person says they can't talk anymore and they have to get off the phone.

 

Which is what I did.

 

And I was happy to listen to him talk about the all of the tons of stuff he found and what he did with it.  I would go into more detail but this part is not my story to tell.

 

My part of the story is about the idea that even though you may not be in a crisis mode, it is always nice to have someone to reach out to.

 

To connect with someone else on a human level.  To be able to say this is what is happening to me and it sucks, big time!

 

To feel that another human being understands you and gets what you are going through.

 

To know that you are not alone.

 

And you never are either, my friends!!! Ever!!!!!

 

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!

Compassion at 12th Street Irish Pub

 

 

 

A Bar at the Folies Bergere
By Edouard Manet

 

Besides making drinks, bartenders do a lot of listening.

 

Many times when people go to a bar, they are looking for someone to talk to, someone who will listen to their troubles and sympathize with what has happened to them.

 

In our fast-paced world, finding someone who will sit and absorb our words is so helpful and comforting.  Listening is a powerful thing.

 

Someone is pouring out their problems to you and in the telling of the problem, they are working through what has happened to them.  The retelling and retelling may go on but eventually the person may work through it for themselves what they need to do next.  Or maybe not. 

 

I'm not suggesting that you go to a bar to drown your troubles, but I saw this interesting piece of information and thought I would pass it along because it comes from someone who has probabably heard it all, yet he understands the human psyche and feels deep compassion.

From a bartender's point of view, this is how comforting works.  In the October 2012 Oprah magazine, Jimmy Vecere, a bartender at the 12th Street Irish Pub in Philadelphia, gives us his sage advice:

 

"We're a block from a hospital, so in my 31 years here I've met many people who've just received bad news.  If you see someone in distress, don't hesitate to talk to them.  Once you've heard their story, sometimes all you have to say is, 'I'll be thinking of you.'  Your words are more powerful than you think."

 

A Dose of Kindness

Visiting people who are sick is one of the kindest acts we can ever practice.  Sitting and talking, holding their hand and listening seem so simple to the healthy but those things are so essential in helping the ill know that they matter, that they are not forgotten even though they are no longer able to independently move around.

 

Bringing about a smile or laughter through a funny story is just as important as any medicine prescribed by a doctor.  Laughter, in particular, is a powerful distraction from pain and illness.

 

One of my sisters and her husband are compassionately taking care of his elderly parents.  Both parents have been diagnosed with advanced stages of cancer and my sister and her husband are trying to make this time with them as comfortable as possible.

 

My sister's in-laws live in the same retirement community as our parents and while visiting with our parents this past weekend, my sister said it would be great if I could also stop by and also see her in-laws.  I did pop by for a visit with only her mother-in-law because her father-in-law was resting.  But the time spent catching up with her mother-in-law was unexpectedly funny.

 

I must admit I was a little anxious about visiting her mother-in-law because I didn't know if she was in a lot of pain or if she was even aware of her surroundings but she surprised me.

 

But during my visit I found a talented woman who had raised three children and was diagnosed with advanced cancer less than a year ago sitting in her family room making jokes about herself and her children, talking in an accent to make some of her stories more amusing and thoroughly enjoying herself.  It was wonderful to see that she still wanted to know what was going on in everyone's lives and having such a positive attitude about life.

 

While we watched the Ryder Cup on television and she made comments about the golfers, there was no negativity about her or her husband's medical situation.  She was living the moment and enjoying her time with the people around her.

 

I know that she is not always in such great spirits or health as she was during my visit but she takes advantage of when she feels good.  It can be difficult to see people when they are ill and it may be something we would rather not do but if we were ill wouldn't we want people to come and socialize with us? Wouldn't we want people to care about us?

 

The visit reminded me that even though I may feel awkward around someone who is ill it shouldn't stop me from trying to comfort someone else.  Life is about giving of yourself and lending a helping hand.
 

Offering Hope

 

 

 

My family currently has a number of medical situations happening and my weekend was spent checking in with various people to see what I could do to help the caregivers.  Each situation is stressful for different reasons and the caregivers are doing fantastic jobs but they can't do it all by themselves.

 

I think I've mentioned this in previous posts but I think it's important to say it again:  listening is a gift.

 

When others come to us with their pain or their joy it is a time for us to sit and absorb what they are telling us or even not telling us.  This is a time to let the other person explain what is happening and how they are feeling.  It is not a time of logic.  And it is not time for a lot of interruptions from the listener and a lot of questions.

 

I find it is better to let the other person spill it out, in whatever order they want to tell it.  It is a time of feeling a mixture of emotions.  Dealing with the doctors, the medical information and tests, seeking to care for this person while they are fighting the illness, trying to anticipate what might happen next to stay ahead of the illness is a huge job which can easily overwhelm anyone.

 

Sometimes as the caregiver, you don't have the luxury of thinking about the next step because the medical condition develops in such a ways that you are swept along, reacting and then there is just more reacting to the illness.

 

Listening is allowing the other person to talk to you without interruption and allowing them to sort through what is happening to them and their loved one.  When you can't help care for the ill person, you can always reach and help the caregiver.

 

The simplicity of listening is often overlooked but it lets people know they are not alone and that you are there to help them.