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| ISBN-13: | 9781617220975 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Companion Press |
| Publication date: | 09/01/2003 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 176 |
| Sales rank: | 774,475 |
| File size: | 402 KB |
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The Journey Through Grief
Reflections on Healing
By Alan D. Wolfelt
Center for Loss and Life Transition
Copyright © 2006 Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D.All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-879651-11-1
CHAPTER 1
Mourning Need 1
Acknowledging the Reality of the Death
You can know something in your head but not in your heart. This is what often happens when someone you love dies. This first need of mourning involves gently confronting the reality that someone you care about will never physically come back into your life again.
Whether the death was sudden or anticipated, acknowledging the full reality of the loss may occur over weeks and months. You may expect him or her to come through the door, to call on the telephone, or even to touch you. To survive, you may try to push away the reality of the death at times. But to know that someone you love has died is a process, not an event; embracing this painful reality is not quick, easy or efficient.
You may move back and forth between protesting and encountering the reality of the death. You may discover yourself replaying events surrounding the death and confronting memories, both good and bad. This replay is a vital part of this need of mourning. It's as if each time you talk it out, the event is a little more real.
One moment the reality of the loss may be tolerable; another moment it may be unbearable. Be patient with this need. At times, you may feel like running away and hiding. At other times, you may hope you will awaken from what seems like a bad dream. As you express what you think and feel outside of yourself, you will be working on this important need.
Remember — this first need of mourning, like the other five that follow, may intermittently require your attention for months. Be patient and compassionate with yourself as you work on each of them.
The reality of this death demands my attention. As I move from head understanding to heart understanding, I know with burning certainty that life is forever changed. I arrive at this new place unprepared for the journey ahead. How will I set forth?
While embracing the reality of this death is painful beyond words, the more I open myself to allowing small doses of reality in, the more I open my heart to healing.
I understand that allowing the full reality of this death to enter my head and heart is a source of necessary hurt. While I do not seek the hurt, I seek the healing. Once I understand that, the pain actually begins to dissolve. Yes, I still hurt, but the depth of the pain will ease over time.
Little by little, step by step, I realize that seeking protection by evading some of the reality of this death helps me survive, at least for now. But gently opening myself to the reality ultimately offers the greatest gift of all — the opportunity to mourn so I can live again.
It's as if the realness of what has happened waits around a corner. I don't want to make the turn, yet I know I must. Slowly, I gather the courage to approach.
To live into the future depends on my response to the reality of what I am experiencing. Temporarily, I need to create insulation from the full force of what I am coming to know. If I felt it all at once I might die. But feel it I must — gently and in doses.
Taking time to turn inward and slow down helps me move from head to heart — a realization that is necessary, yet painful. Taking slow, deep breaths, I encourage my body to go into neutral.
Acknowledging reality brings pain. It is not instinctive to confront the death of someone I love; I do not want it to be so. As I open myself to feel the total sense of loss, I discover I cannot do this grief work alone. I will need the love and support of those who understand the depths of this journey. Most of all I will need to be around people who are truly compassionate.
I cannot begin to heal until I give in. I cannot understand what is happening until I free my heart from the need to push away the reality. I turn my head and my heart toward my grief.
There is something extraordinary in my capacity to survive. I must trust in the struggle.
The head, the heart and the soul must all come to embrace the reality of the death. It is the soul that gives life to the head and heart. I may know the reality of the death in my head but I must also let it sift down into my heart and soul. This is between me and my God.
In committing myself to my grief work, my mind may respond with fear and resistance. If I allow this resistance to overpower me, I will cut off the force that will ultimately help me heal.
Denial is a powerful, seductive force. As I confront it, what seems to help me is to stay focused on my grief work. It is through the encounter of my deep sense of loss that I stay connected to my innermost self.
Encountering the reality of death brings me to understand that love is life. Love nourishes the soul and brings meaning to my life. As I realize this person I have loved cannot come back, I am transformed by my grief. Just as love transforms us, so too does grief.
Perhaps the question is: How will I be transformed?
It is tempting to put off this work of grief; postponing or suppressing it would be safer, less hurtful. Yet the time is now! I must embrace the uncertainty.
Instead of thinking I need to get back to the "old normal," perhaps I need to embrace how I am changed forever by the death of someone loved. To do this I have to acknowledge the reality of the death and be willing to connect to the deepest parts of myself. That's when grief becomes a growth process that transcends the turmoil of change. I am new; I am changed; I am reborn.
Write out your thoughts and feelings about Need 1.
_______________________________________________ _______________________________________________ _______________________________________________
Where do you see yourself in accepting the reality of this death?
_______________________________________________ _______________________________________________ _______________________________________________
Do you think time is playing a part in your acknowledgement of the reality? If so, how?
_______________________________________________ _______________________________________________ _______________________________________________
Do you understand and allow yourself the need to push away some of the reality at times? If so, how?
_______________________________________________ _______________________________________________ _______________________________________________
What can you do to continue to work on this need?
_______________________________________________ _______________________________________________ _______________________________________________
Mourning Need 2
Embracing the Pain of the Loss
This need of mourning requires us to embrace the pain of our loss — something we naturally don't want to do. It is easier to avoid, repress or deny the pain of grief than it is to confront it, yet it is in confronting our pain that we learn to reconcile ourselves to it. To heal we must go to the wilderness of our souls.
You will probably discover that you need to "dose" yourself in embracing your pain. In other words, you cannot (nor should you try to) overload yourself with the hurt all at one time. Sometimes you may need to distract yourself from the pain of death, while at other times you will need to create a safe place to move toward it.
Feeling your pain can sometimes zap you of your energy. When your energy is low, you may be tempted to suppress your grief or even run from it. If you start running and keep running, you may never heal. Dose your pain: yes! Deny your pain: no!
Unfortunately, our culture tends to encourage the denial of pain. We misunderstand the role of suffering. If you openly express your feelings of grief, misinformed friends may advise you to "carry on" or "keep your chin up." If, on the other hand, you remain "strong" and "in control," you may be congratulated for "doing well" with your grief. Actually, doing well with your grief means becoming well-acquainted with your pain. Don't let others deny you this critical mourning need.
As you encounter your pain, you will also need to nurture yourself physically, emotionally and spiritually. Eat well, rest often and exercise regularly. Find others with whom you can share your painful thoughts and feelings; friends who listen without judging are your most important helpers as you work on this mourning need. Give yourself permission to question your faith. It's OK to be angry with your God and to struggle with "meaning of life" issues at this time.
Never forget that grief is a process, not an event. Your pain will probably ebb and flow for months, even years; embracing it when it washes over you will require patience, support and strength.
In some ways, love and grief are very much alike. They both have the power to forever change our lives. Just as I must surrender to love, I must surrender to my grief.
In part, grief work means surrendering to something more powerful than myself. Without surrender there is no change in this pain I feel. As I give in, I begin to breathe in new life.
Hidden on the other side of the pain is universal love and acceptance of myself and others.
I may try to protect myself from my sadness by not talking about my loss. I may even secretly hope that the person who died will come back if I don't talk about it. Yet, as difficult as it is, I must feel it to heal it.
Trying to protect myself by denying my pain will only lead to more pain. I need to be honest with myself about my feelings and my needs.
The pain of grief, though natural and necessary, is so very draining. But pain is also a signal, a warning to listen to myself and to honor my needs. While I may react to my pain with anger, it may actually be my friend.
When my grief becomes overwhelming, I can restore myself by pulling in. I owe it to myself to honor my alone time. Meditation, solitude, quietness — these times restore me. Some of my best healing can be done in solitude.
Grief creates a natural disorientation — a kind of emotional and spiritual wilderness. In loss comes a period of emptiness, aloneness — new life has not yet emerged. As I commit myself to find healing, I am led to a deeper understanding of myself and a longing to return to the world around me.
As I allow myself to mourn, I create an opening in my heart. Releasing the tensions of grief, surrendering to the struggle, means freeing myself to go forward.
Surrendering to my grief means allowing myself to feel. It's about trusting in my capacity to come out on the other side of my overwhelming hurt. Instead of defending against my pain, I must release myself to the flow of experiencing it.
Over time, this pain softens and points the way toward healing. As I surrender to the struggle, I become clearer about my pathway. I must bow to the pain and open my heart.
The only way to the other side is to transcend my intellect and keep my heart open wide.
Sometimes I may react to the pain of grief with anger. Over time and with supportive companions, I come to see my pain not as a curse placed on me but as a necessary response to my loss. My pain is a symptom of the need to turn toward myself and seek understanding.
How can I learn to see my pain as friend, not foe?
I don't have to go in search of the pain of grief — it finds me. It's when I deny or insulate myself from the pain of the loss that I shut down. Ironically, it is in being open to the pain that I move through it to renewed living.
The grief within me has its own heartbeat. It has its own life, its own song. Part of me wants to resist the rhythms of my grief. Yet, as I surrender to the song, I learn to listen deep within myself.
Let the life of this journey be just what it is — confusing, complicated, at times overwhelming. I must keep opening and changing through it all until I become the unique person who has transcended the pain and discovered self-compassion — a vulnerable yet grounded me who chooses to live again.
Write out your thoughts and feelings about Need 2.
______________________________________________ ______________________________________________ ______________________________________________
Where do you see yourself in feeling the pain of the loss?
______________________________________________ ______________________________________________ ______________________________________________
Do you think that time is playing a part in your capacity to embrace the pain of the loss? If so, how?
______________________________________________ ______________________________________________ ______________________________________________
With whom have you shared your feelings of hurt? Has talking about your feelings to others been helpful?
______________________________________________ ______________________________________________ ______________________________________________
What can you do to continue to work on this need?
Mourning Need 3
Remembering the Person Who Died
Do you have any kind of relationship with someone when they die? Of course. You have a relationship of memory. Precious memories, dreams reflecting the significance of the relationship and objects that link you to the person who died (such as photos, souvenirs, clothing, etc.) are examples of some of the things that give testimony to a different form of a continued relationship. This need of mourning involves allowing and encouraging yourself to pursue this relationship.
The process of beginning to embrace your memories often begins with the funeral. The ritual offers you an opportunity to remember the person who died and helps to affirm the value of the life that was lived. The memories you embrace during the time of the funeral set the tone for the changed nature of the relationship.
Embracing your memories can be a very slow and, at times, painful process that occurs in small steps. Remember — don't try to do all of your work of mourning at once. Go slowly and be patient with yourself.
But some people may try to take your memories away. Trying to be helpful, they encourage you to take down all the photos of the person who died. They tell you to keep busy or even to move out of your house. You, too, may think avoiding memories would be better for you. After all, you are living in a culture that teaches you that to move away from — instead of toward — your grief is best.
In my experience, remembering the past makes hoping for the future possible. Your future will become open to new experiences only to the extent that you embrace the past and move toward your grief.
Remembering the person I have loved allows me to slowly heal. Healing does not mean I will forget. Actually, it means I will remember. Gently, I will move forward, never forgetting my past.
Memories may be good or bad or in between, but in all cases they seek to be embraced. Each memory can be savored as unique, reflecting how the person who is now dead impacted my life.
By understanding the preciousness of memories, I can embrace the way I live my life. Each day I live is a memory in the making. I have the privilege to seize each moment, to live until I too die.
Embracing memories of those who have died helps me understand the true value of time. I must remember to let others know I love and cherish them as gifts from God.
The essence of finding meaning in the future is not to forget my past, as I have been told, but instead to embrace my past. For it is in listening to the music of the past that I can sing in the present and dance into the future.
I realize my memories, are like deeply rooted flowers, grounded in beauty and embraced by nature. Just as flowers instinctively grow and flourish, so too can my memories.
If I experience disorienting symptoms of grief I do not understand, I can listen to my soul and look for the spaces of memories in my heart. My memories contain the seeds of my healing.
My memories, especially those that have imprinted my heart, stay with me forever. My five senses have taken in my memories and made them a part of me; they are always available to my gaze. All I need to do is look for them.
I am the curator of my memories. As curator, I care for my memories with love and gratitude.
Memories, precious as they are, need meditation, acceptance and close embrace. As I nurture my memories, I nurture myself and those around me.
My capacity to love and be loved makes my heart fertile with memories and images. These images cannot be pushed away, but must be considered bright lights shining upon me.
As I remember those I have loved, I realize I will never tire of embracing the same events over and over again.
As I reflect on memories I discover a depth of meaning even in the most simple events. Memories allow me to care for my heart.
As I reflect on the past, I may have a multitude of feelings — some good, some bad, some indifferent. This looking back is an important part of ultimately looking forward again.
I must be on the alert for those who feel threatened by the need to look to the past. For only through reviewing what was can I create what is, and what will be.
Memories — sometimes painful, often comforting — nestle against my soul and ache for expression.
My memories are an affair of the heart. Some are fresh and warm, while some are blocked from my present awareness. Without a doubt, my continued living is connected to my most heartfelt memories.
I can release the pain that touches my memories, but only if I remember them. I can release my grief, but only if I express it. Memories and grief must have a heart to hold them.
Memories are my treasures — they carry my story, my song, my light. As I long for peace, I carry my memory torch with me, a vital link in the chain of humanity.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Journey Through Grief by Alan D. Wolfelt. Copyright © 2006 Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D.. Excerpted by permission of Center for Loss and Life Transition.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Also by Alan Wolfelt:,Title Page,
Copyright Page,
Dedication,
THE JOURNEY THROUGH GRIEF: A PROLOGUE,
Mourning Need 1 - Acknowledging the Reality of the Death,
Mourning Need 2 - Embracing the Pain of the Loss,
Mourning Need 3 - Remembering the Person Who Died,
Mourning Need 4 - Developing a New Self-Identity,
Mourning Need 5 - Searching for Meaning,
Mourning Need 6 - Receiving Ongoing Support from Others,
THE JOURNEY THROUGH GRIEF: AN EPILOGUE,
A FINAL WORD TO THOSE WHO JOURNEY,
CONTINUING YOUR JOURNEY,
THE MOURNER'S CODE - Ten Self-Compassionate Principles,