Assigning Meaning to Tragedy

As human beings we struggle with the notion of meaning. Perhaps one of the best discussions of this issue comes from Victor Frankl's, "Man's Search for Meaning." Frankl discusses his own experience as a survivor of Nazi concentration camps and how he worked to find some kind of meaning from the events he lived through. Based upon Fankl's philosophy, it seems that meaning is something we assign with our mind rather than something inherent in the event itself. If so, then we are faced with the very active task of searching for a way to ascribe meaning to an event, which on its face may contain little or no significance. For example, there are many different ways in which a tragedy can lead to something meaningful growing out of it.

The most obvious way in which we can cultivate significance is to develop some memorial activity. For example, the Center for Grief Recovery and Sibling Loss, began as an attempt to memorialize departed siblings. The facts of their deaths then led to something useful and meaningful—something that might not have occurred had they lived. While we would never wish for the tragic ending to a life as a way to achieve meaningful acts, many grand achievements do grow out of the seemingly barren soil of tragedy.

People may also change their internal environment after the death of a loved one. For example, one participant in one of our groups at the Center for Grief Recovery, resolved to take more time for his sister's children and more expansively, for all children, whether his own or those of others. Thus, the death generated an inner conviction and determination to lead life with a little different sense of priorities in his dealings with other people. This kind of change is extremely meaningful and allows us to assign some significance to the death itself. Interestingly, the concept of assigning meaning to a tragic event seems to be one of the hardest ideas with which to come to grips. Many people find it confusing and hard to grasp. While it is difficult for a narcissistic society to find meaning in doing for others or even in coping with the notion of meaning, per se, it is a useful exercise and a good antidote to the unrelieved focus on self. We have clearly stated that self-awareness, self-expression, and self-examination are the principal goals of our endeavor. However, this can't be the total story.

The discussion of meaning is likely to end inconclusively for many people. However, that should not discourage us. We should ask that this issue be kept on peoples' agendas, and that perhaps at some future date, it may become clearer.

Does Time Heal All Wounds?

Occasionally, I am asked by students of the helping professions certain compelling questions. Recently, one such set of questions came across through the Center’s website. After responding, I decided to post my answers. If you or anyone you know might benefit from asking similar or different questions regarding grief or personal growth, please encourage them to email me through our website or comment on the blog.

1. What do you think about the phrase, “Time heals all wounds.”
Time in itself—unlucky for us—does not heal all wounds. I think it was Lilly Tomlin who said, “tragedy plus time equals comedy.” There’s something to that. We can all look back at certain hard or painful situations in life and laugh now about them. But the main point is time is just a concept we use to measure minutes, days, hours, months, years. Time is not a healer. The passage of time may take the edge off of acute pain, but it does not heal pain. On the other hand, time can be used well for healing purposes. When time is used well, in terms of healing wounds, then it is because we do something specific with and within it. We take time and shape it in order to do inner work. It is inner work coupled with courage and honesty that heals all wounds.
2. What do you believe in this phrase? Can you identify where those feelings came from?
Since I don’t believe in the phrase, I have no particular feelings about it in the way you’re asking. But, I do believe there are different kinds of time. For example, there is chronological time (the Greeks called it chronos time). It’s the clock ticking away, and everything we do to get our activities of daily life going. It’s planning, tasking, working, busying, completing, etc. Often chronos time keeps us moving fast and busy so that we hardly notice what we are feeling. This kind of functioning in time often leads to injury, because we can’t really notice what is happening. We’re numb. But there is also sacred time (kairos time in the greek). Kairos time is when we slow way down and start to notice what is actually happening inside and outside of ourselves. It is about paying attention, becoming more mindful and open to experience. If time heals, it is kairos time that heals, because we are in it with a fuller awareness, rather than being pulled away from ourselves by the ticking of the clock in chronos time.
3. Do you have any facts (those allowed to share) about time healing wounds?
Not facts, per se, but lots of stories. One short story: When he was 8 years old Jerry lost his older brother to a hunting accident. He was 11. Jerry’s childhood was shattered. His parents didn’t know how to help him grieve. His teachers and friends didn’t know either. But later in life, Jerry found a therapist who did know how to help him grieve his loss. With the help of this person, he got in touch with his anger, helplessness, sadness, guilt, fear, and vulnerability. Later still, Jerry became an educator and then a social worker. He founded a social service agency called The Center for Grief Recovery and Sibling Loss. Through a lot of deep inner work, Jerry was able to transform his early childhood loss into a positive energy source aimed at helping others going through similar circumstances. It wasn’t time alone that did that. Sometimes a deep wound can become something else. It takes more than just time to transform loss like this.

4. Have you witnessed or experienced something that relates to this topic? If not, have you seen someone who cannot let go?
I have seen many people go through phases of loss and wounding who have trouble letting go. But we have to be careful about that phrase. If I need to hold onto something that is making me feel safe and secure, why would you want me to let it go? If, on the other hand, I am able to grow in feelings of security and safety and feel more structured and strengthened inside of myself, then I may be more able to independently--often with the help/support of others--“let go” of that to which I am clinging. When it comes to loss, letting go is usually a long-term process with many, many layers. If we tell someone to let go, then we should be prepared to offer them something meaningful and sustaining enough to them as a replacement. Can we really do that? Research has shown that the most common experience in bereavement is longing or yearning for contact with the deceased. Sometimes our longing is so intense we think we see or hear the deceased when they are not there. As we learn to cope with the fact of mortality, however, we begin—slowly and tentatively—to “let go” of our attachment to the physical presence of the person we lost. Perhaps we could say the relationship changes. Letting go is no easy thing and we have to be able to do it in our own way and at our own pace.
5. I have heard that people do not allow themselves to move on because they do not want to get hurt again. Do you believe this is true? Why?
The dread and fear of repeating the experience of being hurt are real feelings. After receiving a wound, we typically recoil from and avoid situations that could cause the same or similar kinds of wounds. That seems rational, right? And from a certain standpoint, it is rational. The problem is we can become so fearful and so full of doubt that we begin to shy away from taking initiative or risks. The fear of getting hurt again becomes overpowering and paralyzing. However, we also know that to take one experience and live your entire life by that one experience is severely limiting. This tendency cuts us off from life and potential. But it is understandable. Who wants to get hurt? Perhaps the antidote to this kind of fear is faith (not necessarily religious-based). A simple example: a child falls from her bicycle and scratches her knee. She cries. Her mom or dad or someone bigger, wiser, stronger, calmer helps her out. But how? By attuning to her feelings (is she disappointed, sad, angry, humiliated, confused?), and empathically calming her down. Then when she’s ready, this guardian figure helps her get back up on the bike and try again. That’s an organizing and skillful approach to helping. The child is more likely to be able to “let go” of her hurt and move on to the next activity. She is more likely to have faith in her strengths, because there was someone there for her in a hard situation who validated and supported her with skill and compassion. She witnessed herself going through a hard situation and with assistance move on to the next effort. She feels more competent and confident.

6. People do not want to let go of the past for many reasons; relationships, love, death. What reason do you think is the hardest to forget?
Again, we have to be careful about pushing people to “let go,” or “forget.” In fact, grief is a natural and unlearned healing process. People wanting to be helpful to those who are grieving do not give pat answers to profound questions. They do less advising and more listening. They understand the meaning of memories. Memories are not dead. Memories are alive and dynamic. Memories help people retain their needed connection to the deceased. The old idea about grief was that we should encourage people to cut their ties and move on. Well, it doesn’t usually really work that way. People need to feel free to remember, and grieve. As friends, we need to provide a safe place for people who are in mourning. A place where they can feel the intensity and depth of their feelings without being judged or pushed by someone else with an agenda. Done this way, the grief process usually allows the person to slowly come to terms with their loss and then begin considering withdrawing some of the emotional energy they are putting out to the lost loved one and redirecting it toward other relationships or causes. If we go back to Jerry’s story, he would have never created his Center if he “forgot” about his brother’s death. Perhaps the reason it is so hard for us to forget the people we love is because we are not designed to forget the people we love, but we are pressured to do so by others who may be well-intentioned, but not understanding.
7. What are some things you may do to help people let go of living in their memories?
I try to help people understand that grieving is not about forgetting. To the contrary, grieving is about remembering; remembering the love and the loss; the good times and the bad times. All of it. I also convey to them that remembering is not the same as staying stuck. Remembering and grieving are ways to honor our love and attachments, but living life is also about adapting to change. We don’t want to live our entire life on the basis of one or two experiences. Adaptation comes in many forms. Sometimes it’s about stopping and resting. Sometimes it’s about movement and swiftness. The issue is learning to become aware of our needs at any given time. That means paying deep attention.
8. Does another person help you move on? Can they become your ‘rock’ or person to lean in some ways?
As in the example of the child scraping her knee, sometimes another person is needed to help us get up and move on. Yes, I believe there are times in life when we do really need to rely on the kindness and skills of others. We are social animals. John Dunne said, “No man is an island.” When you stop to think about it, while we think we are very independent and “should” be able to “handle” it all on our own, who really can and does? Don’t we depend on others for our food, clothes, shelter, services, clean water, etc. We are more dependent than we’d like to think. I think in times of loss and mourning, we need to be able to rely on the kindness and compassion of others. This is why all the great religious traditions have so much focus placed on mourning rituals and ceremonies. In Judaism for example, a mourner is not supposed to do any work at all. All responsibilities fall on the community to offer practical and spiritual help. I believe this is the way to go. That said, we need to modify the statement somewhat. We also cannot overburden our friends with our sorrow. People can only do what they are capable of doing. Our goal should be to refrain from harming self and others, even when we are in emotional pain. Therefore, it can be very helpful to meet with a
professional or some other person completely unrelated to the situation who can provide a safe and comfortable place, a non-judgmental stance, and an empathic perspective.

Stress Management

The connection between mind and body has been only partially established. That is, we are aware of the effects that the body has on the mnd. We are clear that we can influence the functioning of our thoughts and emotions through physical interventions such as surgery, and pharmaceuticals. However, we are often unaware that the mind can influence what goes on in the body. Grief may be caused by stressors, feeling states, emotional strain or intensity, and the way we perceive things or the way we think. It is essential to establish the mind-body connection by actually experiencing it.

Grief Poem

Grief

When grief comes to you as a purple gorilla
you must count yourself lucky.
You must offer her what's left
of your dinner, the book you were trying to finish
you must put aside,
and make her a place to sit at the foot of your bed,
her eyes moving from the clock
to the television and back again.
I am not afraid. She has been here before
and now I can recognize her gait
as she approaches the house.
Some nights, when I know she's coming,
I unlock the door, lie down on my back,
and count her steps
from the street to the porch.
Tonight she brings a pencil and a ream of paper,
tells me to write down
everyone I have ever known,
and we separate them between the living and the dead
so she can pick each name at random.
I play her favorite Willie Nelson album
because she misses Texas
but I don't ask why.
She hums a little,
the way my brother does when he gardens.
We sit for an hour
while she tells me how unreasonable I've been,
crying in the checkout line,
refusing to eat, refusing to shower,
all the smoking and all the drinking.
Eventually she puts one of her heavy
purple arms around me, leans
her head against mine,
and all of a sudden things are feeling romantic.
So I tell her,
things are feeling romantic.
She pulls another name, this time
from the dead,
and turns to me in that way that parents do
so you feel embarrassed or ashamed of something.
Romantic, she says,
reading the name out loud, slowly,
so I am aware of each syllable, each vowel
wrapping around the bones like new muscle,
the sound of that person's body
and how reckless it is,
how careless that his name is in one pile and not the other.

Matthew Dickman

Conquering Doubt and Fear

Doubt and fear are two of the most negative elements in the human psyche. The end result of these two elements is immobility, paralysis. We cannot take a step either physically or mentally. Both the mind and body can be frozen with fear and doubt. Whatever we do to help ourselves surmount our grief (psychic pain), we must deal with these negativities. We cannot expect ourselves to be hopeful, or to have faith in moving forward, when doubt and fear are not handled. We are all aware of the placebo effect or of the increased speed of healing when optimism and hope are present. Thus when we believe that we can get better, there is a much better probability that we will, in fact, be successful.

You Were Encamped...

You were encamped in the living room yesterday
And had mined the hall.
Every step exploded a memory.
Whether sour or sweet
They took my knees out each time.

There were simply no choices
I had to engage with you all day
Talking, pleading, recriminating
Laughing like a lunatic.
And afterward just alone.

Today, I stand in the hall watching
The ghost of an old cat arch against the corner
I know you are there
Rhyming my name with an exhalation of air
I feel on my neck.

For the first time, I turn back to the kitchen
Away from you,
Away from somewhere you are
Somewhere...
I will apologize again and again.

KC Conway

Keeping a Grief Journal

Keeping a personal grief journal can help you process and sort out your thoughts, feelings, memories, images, sensations, and experiences. As you continue to write, you may begin to gain clarity of where you have been, where you are now, and where you want to be in the future. This writing activity helps you track your own journey through grief. Your journal is private. You are the only one who needs to read it, unless you want to share it with others.

Directions

Get a nice notebook. Give yourself as many pages as you think you’ll need for the following sections (these are suggestions and you might come up with some of your own):

1. The meaning of loss
2. A significant childhood loss
3. A significant loss in adolescence
4. A significant loss in adulthood
5. Hurting
6. Helping
7. Healing
8. Needs
9. Puzzles
10. Now
11. Beyond now

The remainder of the journal will be for periodic entries.

Under the 11 headings do the following:

1. The meaning of loss: write down your thoughts about loss as a universal and personal experience (i.e., all of us go through loss at some point in life, but we each do so in unique ways). Also, if the experience of loss means something to you, what is that?

2. Signifcant loss(es) in childhood: write down how you felt when you had a loss as a child and how you feel now about that loss. What made it hard? What made it bearable? What made it easy? What are the most striking parts of your loss? In what ways do you feel the loss affected or changed you? Looking back, can you see any value in going through your loss? If so, what is it? If not, then say so.

3. Significant loss(es) in adolescence: same as above except for age.

4. Significant loss(es) in adulthood: same as above except for age.

5. Hurting: write down your present loss-wounds and compare them to earlier times.

6. Helping: write down what has helped you cope with or heal your wounds.

7. Healing: write down your resources and healings after past loss(es). How are you healing your current grief?

8. Needs: What are your current needs? What would help you be self-respecting and caring of yourself now?

9. Puzzles: What curiosities and unanswered questions do you have about your loss(es)?

10. Now: How do you currently relate to your loss(es)? What do you notice about your present moment experience of being here and living with a history of loss(es)?

11. Beyond now: write down your fantasies and dreams about the future. What plans do you have for recovering newness and meaning in your life again?

Periodic entries: set up a private time and place for you to record your entries during the next few months. Your journal writing schedule can be daily or weekly with a minimum writing time of 20 minutes. Often people find it helpful to write down their feelings about the day. It is good at the end of the day to let yourself "simmer" a bit. Then take some time to re-member what happened and how you felt. Some days you may have several feelings to write about. Other days, one feeling may predominate. Ask yourself what it is like to experience that feeling. Was it unsettling, frightening, comforting, pleasant, painful? Did the feeling last a long time or was it short-lived? Was it familiar or unfamiliar? How did the feeling get expressed? Did you cry, laugh, shout, distract yourself, bottle it up? Was the feeling so upsetting that you refused to experience it? If nothing comes to mind, then you may need to begin by writing how it feels to sit at this moment trying to write. Be patient and the feelings will come.

Many people who begin a journal in a time of grief find that they develop an inner capacity to listen more and more closely and compassionately to themselves and others.