Being heard

We, as a Canadian society, are not good at grief. We're death illiterate and prefer to silence those who are grieving. We avoid the discomfort, the sadness, at all costs. We attempt to fix or gloss over with euphemisms or platitudes. Every. Single. Day. But imagine a world where we gave a voice to grief… allowed people to actually talk about their person freely and never asked them to ‘get over it’. Yesterday I was lucky enough to moderate a panel discussion at the CAGP National Conference on Strategic Philanthropy. The conversation held space for four widows/widowers and it was powerful. We had a huge attendance and the delegates shared both during and after the session that it was meaningful for them to hear the panel’s perspective. So why can’t we do this better? One on one, and on a regular basis. I’d encourage you to try: Give space to those who grieve. Ask them about their person. “Park your own stuff” as one of the panelists said poignantly, fight the urge to ‘fix it’ (you can’t), and listen.

What lands for one...

 “Grief is praise, because it is the natural way love honors what it misses.”

~ Martín Prechtel

I just came across this quote on Twitter. While I quite like the sentiment, I wonder if it would be universally found to be helpful. 

After reading Megan Devine’s book “It’s Ok that You’re Not Ok”, I recognize that this statement could be problematic or even painful for some grievers to hear. 

The point being, there is no universal phrase that works for everyone. There is no one way to sum up the complex emotions that go along with grief. Mistakes and missteps will happen as we interact with grieving friends or family. And best intentions could cause unintended pain. 

Don’t assume that one size fits all, and instead, move ahead with authenticity and grace. 

Get real

Our notions of what can be soothing to bereft people in our lives is always going to be from our own POV. It’s all a guessing game and what works for one won’t necessarily work for another. But it is always a good idea to reach out. It is always going to matter that we’ve given space for memories, laughter, and sorrow. It is always good to reflect on the person who has died and give the opportunity for their name to be said aloud. 

You won’t make a grieving person more sad. Just do it.

(And if you’re looking for an alternative to flowery condolence cards, my Etsy shop is back online after a hiatus - https://etsy.me/2ZQE2FR )

Grief Crisis

“The effects of grief can be as physical as the symptoms of any disease. The short- and long-term impacts are well studied and includetrouble sleeping, higher blood pressure,depression and anxiety. Studies have foundthat people who lose a spouse die earlier than their married peers. Children who experience loss of a parent may suffer lasting consequences, including lower grades and failing in school, as well as increased experimentation with drugs and alcohol.”

This passage comes from an article in the New York Times (https://www.nytimes.com/2021/04/12/opinion/covid-death-grief.html) and demonstrates just some of the reason that I will continue to beat the drum of death and grief education for professionals of all walks of life. 

Grief is incredibly relevant to how we manage our teams, interact with peers, serve our clients. If we don’t acknowledge how death impacts our working world, we’re burying our heads in the sand.

As long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be

You’ll most certainly have heard of Robert Munsch. He wrote children’s classics (ahem- The Paperbag Princess anyone?!) that have been a feature in my upbringing and now, my daughter’s. My kiddo is a bit older now and mostly out of her Munsch phase, but one that we’ve held on to is titled Live You Forever. The story is very sweet, and sad as hell. For my daughter, this book brought about her very first understanding of death as my voice quivered while reading it to her when she was 3/4 and she noticed a tear on my cheek. “It’s ok, mommy.” She said in her sweet tiny voice. Dagger to my heart. The anticipatory grief of experiencing such an enormous loss weighs on each of us, and it’s moments like this- a quiet story time- that can drag it out of us. 

To this day, this Munsch story still gets me, as does the memory of my kiddo’s sweet reaction to comfort me. 

(Also- where did that tiny voice go? She’s entering double digits this year and more pre-teen by the day! Agh)

 https://www.huffpost.com/entry/the-heartbreaking-story-behind-iconic-childrens-book-love-you-forever_n_573ceb97e4b0aee7b8e8f76f

Resiliency

I've been thinking a lot about the word RESILIENCE. 

This morning, I was lucky enough to hear from the President of FedEx, Lisa Lisson (http://lisalisson.ca/resilience-the-book/). She spoke very personally about her experience with death and grief, and how she strives to cultivate resilience. 

On the opposite side of the spectrum, I know that many people see this as a "dirty" word (https://www.bmj.com/content/358/bmj.j3604), especially as it relates on how we're showing up in light of the pandemic. 

I also recently listened to a fabulous podcast on this same subject (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ocV8Ce7JI_I) 

Personally, I'm seeing that my relationship with (& understanding of) resiliency is an ongoing process. 

Through my deepest valley with chronic illness I found resiliency in ways I never expected. I unintentionally and without forethought used positivity to get me through. It worked for me. I didn't think about the potential negative outcomes, and used gratitude as my guiding light. In a way, I stuck my head in the sand and did not even recognize how bad things were. I look back at pictures now and think "shit... I was REALLY sick. I almost died", but never thought this in the moment. People call that being resilient, but I call it 'rolling with the punches'. 

Through my work on death and grief, I also acknowledge that resilience can be both instrumental and detrimental to an individual's grief. I think the key is that it is the individual who chooses how it serves them. 

For Lisa, she woke up saying 'I've got this' and 'Things are going to be better than good' and it worked for her. For her, resiliency is key is helping her live her life with grief. 

Conversely, in the book by Megan Devine, she touches on how a resiliency-praising culture can have negative effects. 

“The reality of grief is far different from what others see from the outside. There is pain in this world that you can't be cheered out of. You don't need solutions. You don't need to move on from your grief. You need someone to see your grief, to acknowledge it. You need someone to hold your hands while you stand there in blinking horror, staring at the hole that was your life. Some things cannot be fixed. They can only be carried.” 
― Megan Devine, It's OK That You're Not OK: Meeting Grief and Loss in a Culture That Doesn't Understand

So my takeaway today is this: I will define resiliency for myself. If "being resilient" is helping me get through my day, I won't let others define this as toxic positivity or naïveté - I will live it, embrace it, and be better for it.

And on the flip side, I will also allow myself to not be ok. Because sometimes I am not. And to me, this does not demonstrate that I am not resilient - it is the authenticity that makes me, me. 

And I will also endeavour to allow the space for resilience in others - however they define it. 

New Year, Same Grief

I think that we can all agree that 2020 was pretty terrible for humanity. Too many lives lost due to COVID-19, horrendous acts of racism, economic strife, public disinformation, wild fires, political unrest, murder hornets... terrible. 

And now that we’ve kicked off a new year, many people are keen to put 2020 behind them. The only problem is that grief cannot be put behind us, and for those in the thick of it, the flipping of a calendar will not bring about the renewal that others may feel. 

In light of that, some reminders before we start off a new professional year on Monday: 

Colleagues all around us will be grieving losses of all kinds. Clients and acquaintances may deal with grief in their own individual ways, in silence or in loud booming voices. There are no stages of grief- it is messy and complicated. People will speak different grief languages and may experience sudden upsurges of grief- unannounced and unwelcome as those moments may be. And finally, there is no “right” way to grieve. 

We’re all human... so let’s try to make 2021 a year to recommit to treating each other with humanity.