We Must Create Meaning While leading a group about grief, I mentioned that, as part of the process of moving on, “we must create a sense of meaning.” I meant this in two ways. First, we must make sense of what happened. Was God involved? If so, how? What does the event tell us about fairness, and how important it is that life be fair? Is someone to blame? Do we need to forgive that person, or do we need to forgive ourselves? Do we want to forgive, or will doing so betray our values? Is there something we can learn from our loss, or was it a random act…
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Grief, Gratitude, and Joy
Our Suffering World All over the world, people are suffering. That’s nothing new. We humans have been hurting one another since before we painted images of war on the walls of caves; and we hunt our furred and feathered cousins for food, or clothing, or just for sport; and now, in breathtaking numbers, we cut down the trees whose leaves turn our pollution into something breathable, and heat up our planet beyond repair. It seems there can be no life without pain. So suffering has always been with us. Lately, though, it has reached the point of explosion. With the pandemic, we became isolated. Businesses folded, employees lost jobs, schools…
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Uncertainty and Doing What Is at Hand
Uncertainty Surrounds Us Uncertainty is the water we swim in. We know there will be shallows, eddies, rocks, white water, but we float down the river convinced those hazards are meant for someone else. Those whose bones have broken on boulders in the past may take extra care, wrapping themselves in padding or constructing boxes in which to hide, for we often learn something from our past. Nonetheless, we easily forgot and ignore our vulnerability. We humans have many ways to protect ourselves. We can push people away by being nasty or irrational, by isolating, by acting crazy. Numbness and addiction keep us from feeling the pain of our past…
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Lament and Creating Justice
A Year for Lamentation What a year this has been. In January, the Hong Kong protests were news. That same month, bushfires in Australia killed millions of animals. Later, the House impeached President Trump, and the Senate acquitted him. In Yemen, a civil war broke out. Then the pandemic hit, George Floyd was killed, and the Black Lives Matter demonstrations erupted. Hurricanes and fires destroyed wilderness and devastated communities. Kobe Bryant died, as did John Prine, John Lewis, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, and others. We are reeling. Lament is a totally appropriate response. The term “lament” may bring up images of professional mourners wailing and carrying on as they stumble along…
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Eve and the First Death
Mother’s Day and the Loss of a Child It is Mother’s Day. Even if the holiday was, as some claim, invented to increase the revenue of greeting card companies, it’s nice to have motherhood recognized. For my part, I am grateful to be a mother. I’m especially grateful that my children are, as of this moment, both still alive. Recently, I witnessed the deaths of two young adults. I had the honor of sitting with their mothers, sharing in a portion of their grief. At such moments, I don’t have any comfort to offer, though I did try to open space for the women to talk. Occasionally, I asked questions…
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Cinco de Mayo and World Laughter Day
Cinco de Mayo and Resilience Mexico lost the war, but won the battle. On May 5, 1862, with half as many men as the French, the Mexican soldiers of Puebla defeated their better-equipped enemy. Although their victory was short-lived, for the French regrouped and eventually established rule of the country, the May 5th battle is commemorated every year as Cinco de Mayo, honoring the boost in morale it gave the Mexican people. [1] The holiday symbolizes grit, perseverance, and resilience. It reminds us that, though threats may be great, when we come together, we can prevail. I think of a family I met once while waiting to visit my son…
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Memorial Day and Healthy Grieving
Repressed Grief When we don’t address it, grief hangs on. We can we numb ourselves from our pain with force of will or sullen silence, with bursts of anger, or drugs, or busyness, yet the hurt does not go away. Instead, it settles into our joints, scars our muscles, makes our head hurt. Unable to face the enormity of our loss, some of us go to our grave frozen and miserable. Over the years, I’ve sat with many newly sober people who were shocked by the intensity of their ten- or twenty-year-old grief. Suddenly caught with no buffering substance, they felt overwhelmed by emotions they had forgotten how to process,…