My parents are old, my mum sick, and getting worse has picked up momentum. I’m not living close bye and the news that I receive are over the phone - it’s been hard last summer and seemed better until May this year, medical support is unsatisfactory and when accompanying her to an appointment, was ‘shocked’ about the way the conversation went, she’s quite deaf and slow, and didn’t quickly adapt to a new person, her way of talking, a new setting, questions she was not prepared for - the doctor was friendly and may got the issue, but also had to finish her job, at get on to the next patient. Now, that there’s more exam to come, I’m worried about how that would go, wanted to travel and accompany her, to help with questions and just to provide a bit of comfort - she didn’t want me come. After several attempts, I gave in and didn’t but afterwards, thought, I should have gone, just do it and no longer discuss?! What I’m experiencing apart from worry, is a sort of pain similar to heart break - it’s about loss, and impotence and grief - for the person she used to be and at times, is still there - while having a good day - and as if a small version of herself.
I’m sad and hopeless. Sometimes thought to myself, that’s only now that I see how much I love her. I would like to tell - but she’s so in the here and now, concerned about the house and the garden, doing things or no longer being able to do things - a generational thing I assume?
I wanted to asked Cody whether he as well experienced this king of grief while his mother was still alive, and whether the one that came later was different? And what his opinion with regard to the idea that grief equaled ego clinging to a person and a world / way of being created by them?
Thank you, Susan for making this candle light meeting possible - I didn’t know Cody before and I’m so intrigued to read his book!
Read and reread, thought about it a lot and still find it hard to find words on such a deeply visceral experience Grief is... I don't think there is a one all cure, if there a cure at all, for where all unique in our own way but the feeling, emotions of grief I feel we all can empathize with at some point in lives,
Maybe it that empathy that can help us in our grief to process, heal, move forward knowing that so many of us, everyone will experience a loss of a loved one; along life path.... Indeed, tears travel with us as we try to make sent of it all. I wrote awhile back that; Life is a paradox and pain is the teacher. What wisdom, what teaching will we take from such heartache? I will forever cry for humanity tears as I try to find the wisdom, the love, the compassion to carry me through... May love be with you all!
Thank you for hosting this candlelight chat, Susan!
I lost my mom 22 years ago. She was only 59 and I was 30. Grief was a difficult thing for me to manage and the various emotions can wreak havoc on a person. My heart goes out to everyone who has experienced loss.
The pain becomes more bearable as the years pass by, but the yearning for my mother will never diminish. I am 52 but may as well be 3 because the wish to cuddle in her lap and be rocked while she sang to me will never go away. I wish I could bury my face in her soft neck and inhale the scent of Chantilly. I wish I could call her and ask for recipes instead of seeing her handwriting on my smudged copies. I wish I could follow her around while endlessly talking about everything and nothing.
I miss her because she was the best mother, and friend, and human being I have ever known. And just because I can't see her or hear her doesn't mean that she does not live within me every day....
I have danced in the kitchen and in the rain with my children. They have also learned her honesty and kindness. I have her child-like tendencies and toughness, but wish I had more of her quiet strength. I see a glimpse of her in the mirror more with each passing year. I am gentler, kinder, and more full of life because I had her for 30 years to show me the way. I try not to let the sadness overcome me and am thankful for the love she gave me, for the appreciation of a simple life she taught me.
Susan, what a beautiful and sensitive exploration of an agonizingly complex subject. I wonder if it’s possible to consider the structures offered by religious mourning customs? Perhaps not for this chat, but I do think they can be very constructive.
Thank you for mentioning that! In June, I went to a choir concert called songs for freedom, and was amazed by the very first (contemporary music) one, which resembled a tribe mourning together, it was beautiful and felt to healing, that I thought why is there no place / space in modern societies anymore to do (just) that, come together and express that pain - be it loss of a loved one or any big issues like war, climate change, ecological loss - there’s so much information, and so little we can do. Mourning together would bring us to together and starting from there, maybe get us going and change?
I look forward to this so much, it’s very important to me. Recently Kris Tompkins came to my town when her book Patagonia came out and her interlocutor asked “how do you manage grief? Your conservation work is about loss, really, and then your partner in this work, your husband, dies in a kayaking accident?” And Tompkins says, yes you are right, so much loss, for all of us, but in my case I have come to feel that grief is a third language-
Last week I read the article 'What if growing pains doesn't end in your teens?'
How in China there is an expression; eating bitterness (i.e., hardship) is good fortune.
I was aware of a deep frustration when I read it.
It is indeed true, eating bitterness can bring good fortune … when you digest it.
What in general happens is that we swallow bitterness and then it stays inside, we hold on to it … which is the reason for all the addictions we keep creating.
Digesting means that we take all that feeds and nourishes us in and let go of what doesn't serve our life anymore. Turn that into manure that fertilizes the soil, enabling us to root deeper in life. So we can grow as humans not only physical, but also emotional, mental and spiritual, raising an awareness of all life encompasses.
In the article was also shared how pain could be a friend. And indeed, pain can be friend, a messenger who alerts and warns us when the state we are living in turns into a vulnerable one. One in which we can easily be harmed, influenced or attacked. One who asks us to pay attention because there is a need for care. A state which sadly enough has been almost everywhere a common one and experienced as normal.
Pain however is not a housemate.
Grief is such a state. It is a healing process that is meant to lead us through the first shock, the raw turbulent emotions, thoughts and behaviors that come with the despair, fury, sadness and feelings of loss and being lost ourselves. Until we, overtime, slow down, give our resistance up, become silent and slowly surrender to this new reality in our life. To, and this step is what I so often miss maybe because it’s not meant for everyone (?) it is however a truth in my life …, and to reconnect with our own self again on a deeper level and dimension of life, a part of life where we exist too. Deeper connected with the spirit we are. The one we truly belong too, this inner silence we in essence are, from which we exist and whose songs moves us into being.
We often lack the experience how to do this, because we are not guided anymore how to live with our emotions and how to deal with the thoughts we have, unaware of what moves us.
In general nowadays so often the fury that can unfreeze the shock we are in, is turned into anger and hatred that is offloaded on anyone who dares to touch the pain of feeling lost, instead of being used to live through the pain and cut the cords that keep our thoughts hostage so the care can be provided to fulfil the underlying need and it can be healed. It’s healthy to be furious, its deadly to live in a constant state of anger, also when it is unspoken.
The bitter tears we often don’t cry anymore keep us in a state of sorrow, instead of being seen and experienced as guides who help us to live through the pain, breath deep again to arise refreshed in our life again, while letting go of how life should be according to us. It’s okay to cry and experience the joy of being alive.
We search in our minds for our lost ones, we do everything to keep them alive so we won’t forget.
We won’t find them there, it’s a place of memories of the past … of what once was. We can trust however that we will never forget how they made us feel!
In my experience life invites us to become aware of the fact that we ourselves are the ones feeling lost. And a loss or death, or as I am going through ‘an awareness of hat could have been’, reminds us of this reality, our reality.
One that can be answered, when we dare to face all our emotions and live them, become aware of all our thoughts and discipline them, to take responsibility for our resistance and surrender ourselves. To do the work, the inner work to heal our hearts. That is protected by emotions and thoughts circling around it, creating behavior to keep it safe.
A heart that is in pain however needs to scream … in silence and/or out loud.
It has to become wild to get rid of all the hurt and bitterness that is not hers to hold on too.
Become furious because of the injustice experienced.
Hold her breath and work till fatigue takes over, and she finally lies her head down.
To rest all the time she needs to rest.
Curl up in silence till despair is felt in a depth that makes her let go of all hope …
Ask for help because she doesn’t know what to do and where to go any more.
All so we as humans can let go of our will (the wish and intense longing) that life would be different and live through the resistance so we can open ourselves for the reality we are living in.
And surrender to what life wishes us to know about ourselves and what she wants us to become aware of.
To re-member the spirit we truly are. Because when we are connected with our spirit and we embody her, we are connected with all spirits. And instead of the loss we feel when we are reminded of our loss and our loved ones, we will remember and be with them, filled with love and compassion, wherever they are. Inside ourselves.
They pop in in our awareness at moments when we at least expect them, to let us know that they are with us. In our hearts and minds, in our life. In how they make us feel.
It’s maybe why this world is on many levels so filled with noise and haste … out of fear for the silence in which we can be in ‘The Otherworld’ were there is all the time we need to meet her inhabitants inside ourselves. They are as much a part of life as you and I are.
This intense frustration I experience has all to do with the fact that we deprive young children from their spiritual awareness, like I once was … and while I am grieving ‘what could have been’, I embrace myself and the reality as it has been for me.
Living through being uprooted once, is rooting me deeper than ever before in fertile soil. In an awareness that I belong to this world with all that it encompasses. A life in which the nature of my spirit is embodied by the human I am. In an imaginal reality. One that differs from an imaginary that when disconnected from reality turns into illusions and let us follow will-o'-the-wisps (I had to google this and was amazed by the word itself, it is a misleading light ...) and hypnotizing voices hovering over life, taking us hostage.
Grief is meant to break the ban of death as the end of life and open ourselves again for all of life, including a spiritual one (which differs from a religious one, who in general share a roadmap to a spiritual life).
I wish everyone who joins a healing Candlelight session this Sunday.
Both of my parents passed away within the last 5 years. The pain of losing parents never goes away and never seems to get easier.
My Dad died at the hospital with strangers around him. The time they called us he was already gone. It pains me to know he died with strangers and not his love ones. My mom died in her sleep at home. They say when you lose your parents part of you dies too. I truly believe that is true.
I lost my father 2.5 years ago to a rare cancer . I had persuaded him to move to Australia at age82 to live beside me as I m a physician and the only daughter that he loved incredibly and was so attached too. He left his home, family and son to be close to me. Few months later , painful symptoms started and because of the complexity of his disease and the nature of his of his cancer( working diagnosis not definite one) , Not only I and a large medical team could not save him but also was not able to give home a timeline, prognosis and a certain diagnosis . He was a man of dignity and I saw that was disturbed . I witnessed his suffering and very painful passing ( thanks to palliative team it was less painful the last few days). My younger brother couldn’t say goodbye properly as covid did not let him visiting Australia. Less than a year from his arrival he died. Worse than loss I think was my husband reaction . He was so helpful all through his illness bur not supportive of me through my mourning and grieving. He believes it was too much . I was overdoing it.that I did not care enough about others and him to not affect them that terribly with my emotions. That I was acting non sensibly and selfishly . And worst Of all he was mad at me that I did not care about myself , my health my sanity . His attitude and reaction had a huge impact on in our relationship . He was disappointed of me and I became bitter and to be honest find hard to forgive him ad he made my grief more difficult, painful and complicated
Dear Homa, I am so so sorry you are going through such a thing. I hope you can take this day by day, breath by breath, and also to forgive yourself (I say this last part because, although you don't mention the word "guilt" in your comment, it seems as if you are feeling residual guilt for persuading your father to move close to you? I hope you will remember that all you're experiencing now is borne of great love....) Take care - Susan
Thank you so much dear Susan ( ham del, I am iranian/ Persian so I know exactly what it means). You are so smart and compassionate. Not that I did not know!! But Yes , so true. guilt is exactly has been my dominant emotion.
I am having therapy and hopefully I wont suffer this terribly. I appreciate your care
I wish I could join the candlelight gathering but timing is not right for me in Australia but cant wait to watch it later
Oh Homa! Grieving is SO complicated and painful for ourselves. I hope you have community + support besides your disappointed husband to surround you and support you during your grief and mourning. There are so many layers here! Extraordinary love and professional dedication with your medical team. Add in once in a lifetime pandemic into the mix!
I guess my outlook as a new, unwanted, member of this grief club (at my current stage and individual experience) is we’re human, we fail and we prevail (with hope and love). Best to try not to absorb judgmental criticism of our past actions from others or ourselves.
Grief from the outside can and will drive some people away. We’re not ourselves. We’re different & we’ll never be the same as before. The advice to take care of ourselves is easier said than done!
I’m glad you shared and your endeavor being amazing with your father. It’s an amazing and ongoing one.
Love to you + your dad Homa!
It’s hard not to be bitter (In my case cranky and irritated).
In my experience with early grief, I had “lead feet” and I couldn’t move…I couldn’t go out for that walk, go to the Farmers Market & when I finally did when I did it was way more emotional than I thought!
How do we handle less than supportive people during grief? We don’t even have the bandwidth to deal with “normal” situations!
Dear Peggy. I never felt so connected to a so called stranger! But as Susan call us “ ham - del someone which I totally understand as I am persian/ Iranian so as the word , I know you are a ham del . Your comment is so insightful and kind satire on my heart. Not only a soothing balm but a thought provoking .
I hope you can deal with your grief with grace and self compassion.
I’m honored by your reply and to know my words were so well received.
As we’re immersed in this unwelcome state of affairs, I feel like it’s important to figure out what grace is at this moment. I’m working on noticing when I’m beating myself up and working on reframing my punishing words with forgiveness and understanding. A process…
I’m learning you really can’t. It’s individual. And it seems you can’t solve it exclusively with your brain, or your heart. It seems that it’s a sort of mixture of both + all our other senses. But there’s no family recipe to hand down or cookbook with that elusive magic mixture. If only…
My biggest surprise is my feeling of being “unsafe.” Well meaning friends suggest a cricket tape to mask scary sounds, a security camera/system or find a comfortable spot in the house (spoiler it doesn’t work).
[I recently learned about borrowing (and lending) safety. It’s possible to borrow from someone else’s safety when ours is depleted. May I borrow a little “cup of safety?” And that rang true for me, it lowered my racing skin crawling fear that could overwhelm me]
My other deal is feeling let down by friends. Some tell me that can’t deal with any thing negative right now. Or they don’t have time, or very limited time, because they have to get home to their dog. And I think it’s ironic that some have “ghosted” me.
Earlier, I looked into grief groups. They’re so specific now. I didn’t find one that I feel like I fit. Others worked with a workbook and at the time they were 3/4 of the way through it. Some promising online groups had disbanded. A group for daughters who lost their mothers promised to reply to every inquiry, never replied to me.
It has been suggested I look into seeing a therapist. Seemed like they were pushing me away. I’m likely resistant to this for several reasons that I’d need a therapist to help me figure out, ha!
And I’m struggling financially since the death of my mom almost 10 months ago. I was told I’d be let go from work as my mom was in the hospital after surgery and was told she had uterine cancer. The surgery was delayed because she tested positive for Covid. I was working over her shoulder helping her scan and attach her vaccination card in preparation for her total hysterectomy. I find it a bit ironic that’s how I got Covid too. I received the news from work that I was being let go as I had “brain fog” and working on logistics what was next. I became my mom’s unpaid primary caregiver. Then after her death, I guess, her “primary griever.”
I beat myself up that I wasn’t better after a month. And at each milestone I questioned why I wasn’t integrating myself back into the world. I continued to beat myself up that I still didn’t find a job six months after her passing! My mind was swirling. I chastised myself because I wasn’t myself. I was a ditz.
I’m working again, but at lower pay at a different place and it’s temporary. And I stress about this not my calling (for my life). This isn’t exactly financially sustainable, yet I’m making some money and not as angry. I’m working on noticing when I put myself down for not doing better at grieving/mourning/bereavement.
Because of my finances, I feel I can’t justify paying for a good/recommended therapist. And I’m frightened of a not great therapist.
We’re pretty much introverted people in this group and finding new connections is often a struggle. At this stage, it’s seems exponentially harder to do in bereavement. Well everything is harder and an adjustment and weird. And I’m more than frustrated with current friends. Why do I have to make new ones? Why can’t you be who I need and want you to be? Seems at this stage I’m really in need of people. But not just any old people. Because, I’m let down and not carefree. Of course, I really want is what I don’t have on this earth anymore; the person who loved my complicated introverted self and made me feel safe.
I guess it might be too individual to ask about creating those deep and meaningful connections that many of us introverts crave while we’re mourning.
Also, I have to say I’m not exactly comforted that seven years later he’s still trying to cure his grief! Argh. I haven’t made a year yet…
I’ll share one thing, a trick or hack if you will that I repeat throughout the day(s). It’s exhaling a very long time. As long as I can! Longer than breathing in. I forget why it helps, but it was recommended for people in grief because our world is cracked and “normal” soothing tips and tricks don’t help when we’re grieving. Our bodies now react differently. Really. I like that exhaling (a long time, but apparently you only need to do this a little longer than your inhale to work) is free, accessible and it works.
I’m very interested & will likely crying during the podcast
Gut-wrenching loss first visited me on April 12, 1996, when my first child was stillborn. I was 36 weeks pregnant at the time, and in a moment I will never forget, my emotions went from a state of bliss to unbearable pain and grief. I remember people thinking I should be "moving on" and "getting back to living my life" after only a brief 8 weeks (my maternity leave). I hated the thought of "moving on", because it felt like I was leaving my daughter behind. My thoughts were consumed with her, my tears wouldn't stop flowing, I was in complete misery. I accepted that I must journey through my grief and allow myself time, but our society wants us to get over things, move on, to be strong. It was a struggle for me to emerge from my cocoon at home, to get back to work, to put on a brave face and act as if I was ok, when I was far from it. I read a book provided to me by the hospital after my loss, that mentioned a survey asking people how long they thought was an appropriate amount of time for grieving the loss of a loved one. If my memory serves me, with respect to losing a child, the responses hovered around 6-8 weeks, and less for the loss of a parent, husband/wife, sister/brother. Anyone who has lost someone that close to them, knows you don't get over it in a matter of weeks. I think those responses are more closely tied to how long people are willing to sympathize with our grieving.
I'd like to ask Cody what he has discovered with respect to how others expect us to process our grief, and why our grief makes others so uncomfortable, essentially pushing us to "move on" when we're really not ready to. I hope I get the opportunity to attend the chat and ask him.
I lost my husband 4 years ago to cancer. He was only 64. I always thought we would grow old together taking care of each other. Dreams are never guaranteed.
I wanted to be by myself after the funeral. I just wanted to be able to cry alone & reflect on our past life together. I'm a very spiritual person so praying aloud helped me release physical & emotional stress during that time. I felt a need to express to the Divine my anger, frustration, & asking "Why?"
I then began to get outside & walk to clear my mind. I walked miles during that time. Exercising really helped me shed physical & emotional stress in my body. Thinking back at that time period, maybe I was just avoiding the reality of my husband's death by keeping busy.
As the years have gone by, I have embraced the reality that death does lead into a new life. I am not afraid of death. When I wake each morning, I ask God to help me throughout the day--to be a partner as we journey forward together. It has definitely helped me.
I look forward to the Candlelight Chat this weekend!
Mary Jo, I'm so sorry for your loss. I can relate to wanting to be by yourself after the funeral. I felt that way after I lost my first born. My mother-on-law flew in from Canada and stayed with us, and I just needed her to not be here, so I could mourn and cry and hide. I was so grateful when my mother and father offered for her to stay with them for a few days, so I could have my space.
I lost my daughter to cancer March 9th, 2024 at about 8:00 AM. She was only eleven. I am not ready to let go of my grief as currently I have accepted it as my daily companion, sending me messages from my darling daughter. The pain is immense and I assume I will carry it to the end of my days. However, she was a gentle quiet soul, and she told all of us that we had to carry on, being our silly beautiful selves, to be grateful and not take life for granted. So.. in memory of my girl, I keep going in honor of her wishes and because she is right, there is so much beauty and love in the world. I am grateful for every breath I am given.
Gabriela, I'm so sorry about the loss of your precious daughter. I lost my daughter, who was stillborn at 36 weeks. It was 28 years ago, but I still carry the weight of that loss. Yes, things have gotten better, but there is always that hole in your life, that empty space in your heart that you can't fill. I hope you continue to find meaningful ways to honor your daughter.
If you don't mind me asking, what is her name? I participate in the Worldwide Candle Lighting ceremony every December (held by The Compassionate Friends which you can find here: https://www.compassionatefriends.org) and I keep a list of children that I honor when we light our candle in memory of my daughter. I would love to put your daughter's name on my list.
I lost my mom in 2014 when she choked to death in a restaurant.
I was just so grateful that I had told her how much I loved and admired her not too long before her sudden death.
I think about her every day. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed and just have a cry.
My father died in February, and my stepdad died a year ago last December. I did spend a lot of time wanting to sleep and not wanting to eat. I’m older, in my sixties, but I still feel like an orphan. I am not expecting not to feel grief come in waves again and again. Sometimes I do smile inside at good memories. The memories come frequently but unexpectedly.
I spend a good amount of time hoping that we do go on somehow. I like to believe that my mom sends me signs in the form of turtles. Sometimes I will ask her for that sign, and I usually get one.
If this topic needs deeper coverage after Cody's chat, maybe get in touch with Francis Weller who wrote "The Wild Edge of Sorrow" - a magnificent work on different kinds of grief. But you may know about this already.
My parents are old, my mum sick, and getting worse has picked up momentum. I’m not living close bye and the news that I receive are over the phone - it’s been hard last summer and seemed better until May this year, medical support is unsatisfactory and when accompanying her to an appointment, was ‘shocked’ about the way the conversation went, she’s quite deaf and slow, and didn’t quickly adapt to a new person, her way of talking, a new setting, questions she was not prepared for - the doctor was friendly and may got the issue, but also had to finish her job, at get on to the next patient. Now, that there’s more exam to come, I’m worried about how that would go, wanted to travel and accompany her, to help with questions and just to provide a bit of comfort - she didn’t want me come. After several attempts, I gave in and didn’t but afterwards, thought, I should have gone, just do it and no longer discuss?! What I’m experiencing apart from worry, is a sort of pain similar to heart break - it’s about loss, and impotence and grief - for the person she used to be and at times, is still there - while having a good day - and as if a small version of herself.
I’m sad and hopeless. Sometimes thought to myself, that’s only now that I see how much I love her. I would like to tell - but she’s so in the here and now, concerned about the house and the garden, doing things or no longer being able to do things - a generational thing I assume?
I wanted to asked Cody whether he as well experienced this king of grief while his mother was still alive, and whether the one that came later was different? And what his opinion with regard to the idea that grief equaled ego clinging to a person and a world / way of being created by them?
Thank you, Susan for making this candle light meeting possible - I didn’t know Cody before and I’m so intrigued to read his book!
Cu later!
Read and reread, thought about it a lot and still find it hard to find words on such a deeply visceral experience Grief is... I don't think there is a one all cure, if there a cure at all, for where all unique in our own way but the feeling, emotions of grief I feel we all can empathize with at some point in lives,
Maybe it that empathy that can help us in our grief to process, heal, move forward knowing that so many of us, everyone will experience a loss of a loved one; along life path.... Indeed, tears travel with us as we try to make sent of it all. I wrote awhile back that; Life is a paradox and pain is the teacher. What wisdom, what teaching will we take from such heartache? I will forever cry for humanity tears as I try to find the wisdom, the love, the compassion to carry me through... May love be with you all!
Thank you for hosting this candlelight chat, Susan!
I lost my mom 22 years ago. She was only 59 and I was 30. Grief was a difficult thing for me to manage and the various emotions can wreak havoc on a person. My heart goes out to everyone who has experienced loss.
The pain becomes more bearable as the years pass by, but the yearning for my mother will never diminish. I am 52 but may as well be 3 because the wish to cuddle in her lap and be rocked while she sang to me will never go away. I wish I could bury my face in her soft neck and inhale the scent of Chantilly. I wish I could call her and ask for recipes instead of seeing her handwriting on my smudged copies. I wish I could follow her around while endlessly talking about everything and nothing.
I miss her because she was the best mother, and friend, and human being I have ever known. And just because I can't see her or hear her doesn't mean that she does not live within me every day....
I have danced in the kitchen and in the rain with my children. They have also learned her honesty and kindness. I have her child-like tendencies and toughness, but wish I had more of her quiet strength. I see a glimpse of her in the mirror more with each passing year. I am gentler, kinder, and more full of life because I had her for 30 years to show me the way. I try not to let the sadness overcome me and am thankful for the love she gave me, for the appreciation of a simple life she taught me.
She lives because I live.
Much Love and Peace be with all of you!
Susan, what a beautiful and sensitive exploration of an agonizingly complex subject. I wonder if it’s possible to consider the structures offered by religious mourning customs? Perhaps not for this chat, but I do think they can be very constructive.
Thank you for mentioning that! In June, I went to a choir concert called songs for freedom, and was amazed by the very first (contemporary music) one, which resembled a tribe mourning together, it was beautiful and felt to healing, that I thought why is there no place / space in modern societies anymore to do (just) that, come together and express that pain - be it loss of a loved one or any big issues like war, climate change, ecological loss - there’s so much information, and so little we can do. Mourning together would bring us to together and starting from there, maybe get us going and change?
I look forward to this so much, it’s very important to me. Recently Kris Tompkins came to my town when her book Patagonia came out and her interlocutor asked “how do you manage grief? Your conservation work is about loss, really, and then your partner in this work, your husband, dies in a kayaking accident?” And Tompkins says, yes you are right, so much loss, for all of us, but in my case I have come to feel that grief is a third language-
Grief
A third language
chills
Hello Susan and Quiet-livers,
Last week I read the article 'What if growing pains doesn't end in your teens?'
How in China there is an expression; eating bitterness (i.e., hardship) is good fortune.
I was aware of a deep frustration when I read it.
It is indeed true, eating bitterness can bring good fortune … when you digest it.
What in general happens is that we swallow bitterness and then it stays inside, we hold on to it … which is the reason for all the addictions we keep creating.
Digesting means that we take all that feeds and nourishes us in and let go of what doesn't serve our life anymore. Turn that into manure that fertilizes the soil, enabling us to root deeper in life. So we can grow as humans not only physical, but also emotional, mental and spiritual, raising an awareness of all life encompasses.
In the article was also shared how pain could be a friend. And indeed, pain can be friend, a messenger who alerts and warns us when the state we are living in turns into a vulnerable one. One in which we can easily be harmed, influenced or attacked. One who asks us to pay attention because there is a need for care. A state which sadly enough has been almost everywhere a common one and experienced as normal.
Pain however is not a housemate.
Grief is such a state. It is a healing process that is meant to lead us through the first shock, the raw turbulent emotions, thoughts and behaviors that come with the despair, fury, sadness and feelings of loss and being lost ourselves. Until we, overtime, slow down, give our resistance up, become silent and slowly surrender to this new reality in our life. To, and this step is what I so often miss maybe because it’s not meant for everyone (?) it is however a truth in my life …, and to reconnect with our own self again on a deeper level and dimension of life, a part of life where we exist too. Deeper connected with the spirit we are. The one we truly belong too, this inner silence we in essence are, from which we exist and whose songs moves us into being.
We often lack the experience how to do this, because we are not guided anymore how to live with our emotions and how to deal with the thoughts we have, unaware of what moves us.
In general nowadays so often the fury that can unfreeze the shock we are in, is turned into anger and hatred that is offloaded on anyone who dares to touch the pain of feeling lost, instead of being used to live through the pain and cut the cords that keep our thoughts hostage so the care can be provided to fulfil the underlying need and it can be healed. It’s healthy to be furious, its deadly to live in a constant state of anger, also when it is unspoken.
The bitter tears we often don’t cry anymore keep us in a state of sorrow, instead of being seen and experienced as guides who help us to live through the pain, breath deep again to arise refreshed in our life again, while letting go of how life should be according to us. It’s okay to cry and experience the joy of being alive.
We search in our minds for our lost ones, we do everything to keep them alive so we won’t forget.
We won’t find them there, it’s a place of memories of the past … of what once was. We can trust however that we will never forget how they made us feel!
In my experience life invites us to become aware of the fact that we ourselves are the ones feeling lost. And a loss or death, or as I am going through ‘an awareness of hat could have been’, reminds us of this reality, our reality.
One that can be answered, when we dare to face all our emotions and live them, become aware of all our thoughts and discipline them, to take responsibility for our resistance and surrender ourselves. To do the work, the inner work to heal our hearts. That is protected by emotions and thoughts circling around it, creating behavior to keep it safe.
A heart that is in pain however needs to scream … in silence and/or out loud.
It has to become wild to get rid of all the hurt and bitterness that is not hers to hold on too.
Become furious because of the injustice experienced.
Hold her breath and work till fatigue takes over, and she finally lies her head down.
To rest all the time she needs to rest.
Curl up in silence till despair is felt in a depth that makes her let go of all hope …
Ask for help because she doesn’t know what to do and where to go any more.
All so we as humans can let go of our will (the wish and intense longing) that life would be different and live through the resistance so we can open ourselves for the reality we are living in.
And surrender to what life wishes us to know about ourselves and what she wants us to become aware of.
To re-member the spirit we truly are. Because when we are connected with our spirit and we embody her, we are connected with all spirits. And instead of the loss we feel when we are reminded of our loss and our loved ones, we will remember and be with them, filled with love and compassion, wherever they are. Inside ourselves.
They pop in in our awareness at moments when we at least expect them, to let us know that they are with us. In our hearts and minds, in our life. In how they make us feel.
It’s maybe why this world is on many levels so filled with noise and haste … out of fear for the silence in which we can be in ‘The Otherworld’ were there is all the time we need to meet her inhabitants inside ourselves. They are as much a part of life as you and I are.
This intense frustration I experience has all to do with the fact that we deprive young children from their spiritual awareness, like I once was … and while I am grieving ‘what could have been’, I embrace myself and the reality as it has been for me.
Living through being uprooted once, is rooting me deeper than ever before in fertile soil. In an awareness that I belong to this world with all that it encompasses. A life in which the nature of my spirit is embodied by the human I am. In an imaginal reality. One that differs from an imaginary that when disconnected from reality turns into illusions and let us follow will-o'-the-wisps (I had to google this and was amazed by the word itself, it is a misleading light ...) and hypnotizing voices hovering over life, taking us hostage.
Grief is meant to break the ban of death as the end of life and open ourselves again for all of life, including a spiritual one (which differs from a religious one, who in general share a roadmap to a spiritual life).
I wish everyone who joins a healing Candlelight session this Sunday.
Warmly,
Alja
Both of my parents passed away within the last 5 years. The pain of losing parents never goes away and never seems to get easier.
My Dad died at the hospital with strangers around him. The time they called us he was already gone. It pains me to know he died with strangers and not his love ones. My mom died in her sleep at home. They say when you lose your parents part of you dies too. I truly believe that is true.
I'm so sorry, Judi.
(I had a similar experience with my Dad, who died of COVID, with none of us there.)
I lost my father 2.5 years ago to a rare cancer . I had persuaded him to move to Australia at age82 to live beside me as I m a physician and the only daughter that he loved incredibly and was so attached too. He left his home, family and son to be close to me. Few months later , painful symptoms started and because of the complexity of his disease and the nature of his of his cancer( working diagnosis not definite one) , Not only I and a large medical team could not save him but also was not able to give home a timeline, prognosis and a certain diagnosis . He was a man of dignity and I saw that was disturbed . I witnessed his suffering and very painful passing ( thanks to palliative team it was less painful the last few days). My younger brother couldn’t say goodbye properly as covid did not let him visiting Australia. Less than a year from his arrival he died. Worse than loss I think was my husband reaction . He was so helpful all through his illness bur not supportive of me through my mourning and grieving. He believes it was too much . I was overdoing it.that I did not care enough about others and him to not affect them that terribly with my emotions. That I was acting non sensibly and selfishly . And worst Of all he was mad at me that I did not care about myself , my health my sanity . His attitude and reaction had a huge impact on in our relationship . He was disappointed of me and I became bitter and to be honest find hard to forgive him ad he made my grief more difficult, painful and complicated
Dear Homa, I am so so sorry you are going through such a thing. I hope you can take this day by day, breath by breath, and also to forgive yourself (I say this last part because, although you don't mention the word "guilt" in your comment, it seems as if you are feeling residual guilt for persuading your father to move close to you? I hope you will remember that all you're experiencing now is borne of great love....) Take care - Susan
Thank you so much dear Susan ( ham del, I am iranian/ Persian so I know exactly what it means). You are so smart and compassionate. Not that I did not know!! But Yes , so true. guilt is exactly has been my dominant emotion.
I am having therapy and hopefully I wont suffer this terribly. I appreciate your care
I wish I could join the candlelight gathering but timing is not right for me in Australia but cant wait to watch it later
Oh Homa! Grieving is SO complicated and painful for ourselves. I hope you have community + support besides your disappointed husband to surround you and support you during your grief and mourning. There are so many layers here! Extraordinary love and professional dedication with your medical team. Add in once in a lifetime pandemic into the mix!
I guess my outlook as a new, unwanted, member of this grief club (at my current stage and individual experience) is we’re human, we fail and we prevail (with hope and love). Best to try not to absorb judgmental criticism of our past actions from others or ourselves.
Grief from the outside can and will drive some people away. We’re not ourselves. We’re different & we’ll never be the same as before. The advice to take care of ourselves is easier said than done!
I’m glad you shared and your endeavor being amazing with your father. It’s an amazing and ongoing one.
Love to you + your dad Homa!
It’s hard not to be bitter (In my case cranky and irritated).
In my experience with early grief, I had “lead feet” and I couldn’t move…I couldn’t go out for that walk, go to the Farmers Market & when I finally did when I did it was way more emotional than I thought!
How do we handle less than supportive people during grief? We don’t even have the bandwidth to deal with “normal” situations!
Dear Peggy. I never felt so connected to a so called stranger! But as Susan call us “ ham - del someone which I totally understand as I am persian/ Iranian so as the word , I know you are a ham del . Your comment is so insightful and kind satire on my heart. Not only a soothing balm but a thought provoking .
I hope you can deal with your grief with grace and self compassion.
I’m honored by your reply and to know my words were so well received.
As we’re immersed in this unwelcome state of affairs, I feel like it’s important to figure out what grace is at this moment. I’m working on noticing when I’m beating myself up and working on reframing my punishing words with forgiveness and understanding. A process…
Homa, continued love to you + dad
Yeah I’m trying to do grief “right”
I’m learning you really can’t. It’s individual. And it seems you can’t solve it exclusively with your brain, or your heart. It seems that it’s a sort of mixture of both + all our other senses. But there’s no family recipe to hand down or cookbook with that elusive magic mixture. If only…
My biggest surprise is my feeling of being “unsafe.” Well meaning friends suggest a cricket tape to mask scary sounds, a security camera/system or find a comfortable spot in the house (spoiler it doesn’t work).
[I recently learned about borrowing (and lending) safety. It’s possible to borrow from someone else’s safety when ours is depleted. May I borrow a little “cup of safety?” And that rang true for me, it lowered my racing skin crawling fear that could overwhelm me]
My other deal is feeling let down by friends. Some tell me that can’t deal with any thing negative right now. Or they don’t have time, or very limited time, because they have to get home to their dog. And I think it’s ironic that some have “ghosted” me.
Earlier, I looked into grief groups. They’re so specific now. I didn’t find one that I feel like I fit. Others worked with a workbook and at the time they were 3/4 of the way through it. Some promising online groups had disbanded. A group for daughters who lost their mothers promised to reply to every inquiry, never replied to me.
It has been suggested I look into seeing a therapist. Seemed like they were pushing me away. I’m likely resistant to this for several reasons that I’d need a therapist to help me figure out, ha!
And I’m struggling financially since the death of my mom almost 10 months ago. I was told I’d be let go from work as my mom was in the hospital after surgery and was told she had uterine cancer. The surgery was delayed because she tested positive for Covid. I was working over her shoulder helping her scan and attach her vaccination card in preparation for her total hysterectomy. I find it a bit ironic that’s how I got Covid too. I received the news from work that I was being let go as I had “brain fog” and working on logistics what was next. I became my mom’s unpaid primary caregiver. Then after her death, I guess, her “primary griever.”
I beat myself up that I wasn’t better after a month. And at each milestone I questioned why I wasn’t integrating myself back into the world. I continued to beat myself up that I still didn’t find a job six months after her passing! My mind was swirling. I chastised myself because I wasn’t myself. I was a ditz.
I’m working again, but at lower pay at a different place and it’s temporary. And I stress about this not my calling (for my life). This isn’t exactly financially sustainable, yet I’m making some money and not as angry. I’m working on noticing when I put myself down for not doing better at grieving/mourning/bereavement.
Because of my finances, I feel I can’t justify paying for a good/recommended therapist. And I’m frightened of a not great therapist.
We’re pretty much introverted people in this group and finding new connections is often a struggle. At this stage, it’s seems exponentially harder to do in bereavement. Well everything is harder and an adjustment and weird. And I’m more than frustrated with current friends. Why do I have to make new ones? Why can’t you be who I need and want you to be? Seems at this stage I’m really in need of people. But not just any old people. Because, I’m let down and not carefree. Of course, I really want is what I don’t have on this earth anymore; the person who loved my complicated introverted self and made me feel safe.
I guess it might be too individual to ask about creating those deep and meaningful connections that many of us introverts crave while we’re mourning.
Also, I have to say I’m not exactly comforted that seven years later he’s still trying to cure his grief! Argh. I haven’t made a year yet…
I’ll share one thing, a trick or hack if you will that I repeat throughout the day(s). It’s exhaling a very long time. As long as I can! Longer than breathing in. I forget why it helps, but it was recommended for people in grief because our world is cracked and “normal” soothing tips and tricks don’t help when we’re grieving. Our bodies now react differently. Really. I like that exhaling (a long time, but apparently you only need to do this a little longer than your inhale to work) is free, accessible and it works.
I’m very interested & will likely crying during the podcast
Oh Peggy, I'm so sorry for all you are going through.
And I love your trick of exhaling for a very long time.
And may you find safety, connection, and love.
Gut-wrenching loss first visited me on April 12, 1996, when my first child was stillborn. I was 36 weeks pregnant at the time, and in a moment I will never forget, my emotions went from a state of bliss to unbearable pain and grief. I remember people thinking I should be "moving on" and "getting back to living my life" after only a brief 8 weeks (my maternity leave). I hated the thought of "moving on", because it felt like I was leaving my daughter behind. My thoughts were consumed with her, my tears wouldn't stop flowing, I was in complete misery. I accepted that I must journey through my grief and allow myself time, but our society wants us to get over things, move on, to be strong. It was a struggle for me to emerge from my cocoon at home, to get back to work, to put on a brave face and act as if I was ok, when I was far from it. I read a book provided to me by the hospital after my loss, that mentioned a survey asking people how long they thought was an appropriate amount of time for grieving the loss of a loved one. If my memory serves me, with respect to losing a child, the responses hovered around 6-8 weeks, and less for the loss of a parent, husband/wife, sister/brother. Anyone who has lost someone that close to them, knows you don't get over it in a matter of weeks. I think those responses are more closely tied to how long people are willing to sympathize with our grieving.
I'd like to ask Cody what he has discovered with respect to how others expect us to process our grief, and why our grief makes others so uncomfortable, essentially pushing us to "move on" when we're really not ready to. I hope I get the opportunity to attend the chat and ask him.
I'm so sorry you went through this, Nancy. (My mother did, too, and even though she had three healthy children, I know it stayed with her.)
And, what a brilliant insight re the responses being tied more to how long ppl feel they can sympathize.
Thank you, Susan. I'm blessed with three other children, too, but yeah, it never leaves you.
My husband is receiving hospice care. Someone called this time “the long goodbye”
I'm so so sorry, Mimi.
Oh, Mimi, I'm so sorry.
I lost my husband 4 years ago to cancer. He was only 64. I always thought we would grow old together taking care of each other. Dreams are never guaranteed.
I wanted to be by myself after the funeral. I just wanted to be able to cry alone & reflect on our past life together. I'm a very spiritual person so praying aloud helped me release physical & emotional stress during that time. I felt a need to express to the Divine my anger, frustration, & asking "Why?"
I then began to get outside & walk to clear my mind. I walked miles during that time. Exercising really helped me shed physical & emotional stress in my body. Thinking back at that time period, maybe I was just avoiding the reality of my husband's death by keeping busy.
As the years have gone by, I have embraced the reality that death does lead into a new life. I am not afraid of death. When I wake each morning, I ask God to help me throughout the day--to be a partner as we journey forward together. It has definitely helped me.
I look forward to the Candlelight Chat this weekend!
I'm so sorry for your loss, Mary Jo - and will try to store away your words, for help, when I or someone else needs them in future.
Mary Jo, I'm so sorry for your loss. I can relate to wanting to be by yourself after the funeral. I felt that way after I lost my first born. My mother-on-law flew in from Canada and stayed with us, and I just needed her to not be here, so I could mourn and cry and hide. I was so grateful when my mother and father offered for her to stay with them for a few days, so I could have my space.
I lost my daughter to cancer March 9th, 2024 at about 8:00 AM. She was only eleven. I am not ready to let go of my grief as currently I have accepted it as my daily companion, sending me messages from my darling daughter. The pain is immense and I assume I will carry it to the end of my days. However, she was a gentle quiet soul, and she told all of us that we had to carry on, being our silly beautiful selves, to be grateful and not take life for granted. So.. in memory of my girl, I keep going in honor of her wishes and because she is right, there is so much beauty and love in the world. I am grateful for every breath I am given.
Gabriela, I'm so sorry about the loss of your precious daughter. I lost my daughter, who was stillborn at 36 weeks. It was 28 years ago, but I still carry the weight of that loss. Yes, things have gotten better, but there is always that hole in your life, that empty space in your heart that you can't fill. I hope you continue to find meaningful ways to honor your daughter.
If you don't mind me asking, what is her name? I participate in the Worldwide Candle Lighting ceremony every December (held by The Compassionate Friends which you can find here: https://www.compassionatefriends.org) and I keep a list of children that I honor when we light our candle in memory of my daughter. I would love to put your daughter's name on my list.
Her name is Bernadette. That sound lovely. I am so sorry for the loss of your daughter as well.
oh my heavens, I am so so so sorry, Gabriela, and your daughter sounds like a dream of a human.
I’d like to know how one deals with the grief when the person(s) are still alive but refuse to engage?
I share this question!
going through this as well and also very interested in navigating complex grief
I lost my mom in 2014 when she choked to death in a restaurant.
I was just so grateful that I had told her how much I loved and admired her not too long before her sudden death.
I think about her every day. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed and just have a cry.
My father died in February, and my stepdad died a year ago last December. I did spend a lot of time wanting to sleep and not wanting to eat. I’m older, in my sixties, but I still feel like an orphan. I am not expecting not to feel grief come in waves again and again. Sometimes I do smile inside at good memories. The memories come frequently but unexpectedly.
I spend a good amount of time hoping that we do go on somehow. I like to believe that my mom sends me signs in the form of turtles. Sometimes I will ask her for that sign, and I usually get one.
Thank you. I’m ordering the book today.
So sorry for your losses, Sha.
ohhh I'm so sorry, Sha.
If this topic needs deeper coverage after Cody's chat, maybe get in touch with Francis Weller who wrote "The Wild Edge of Sorrow" - a magnificent work on different kinds of grief. But you may know about this already.