Holding the Hand of Grief & Life at the Same Time
You give yourself a gift when you are able to embrace life while still grieving. It starts small, first but eventually becomes ever larger.
It feels like a contradiction at first but eventually you start to realize that it can become a reality. Author Christina Rasmussen speaks to this dynamic tension in words I’ve come to appreciate.
The longer we have been grieving a loss, the harder it is to start living again. This is one of the reasons why I wholeheartedly believe we must invite life and grief to walk hand in hand. If life doesn’t escort grief back to joy, then it takes us much longer to get there, if we ever do. — Christina Rasmussen
If healthy grief has both realities, the next question is, “How do you walk it out? How do you hold the hand of life while holding the hand of grief?” What follows are some of the ways I stood in the middle of these seeming contrasting realities.
How to Hold the Hand of Grief and Life at the Same Time
1. Be Present Where You Are
The path to the hand holding that is represented by the partnership of grief and life begins to becomes possible when you are fully aware of where you are and the choice to reflect on that place.
If you are still waiting to start walking, there is something you do while you wait. Christina calls this the “Waiting Room.” What you do while waiting matters.
I remember waiting for time to pass and feeling just stuck in my grief. When Vicky died, I felt so stuck in my grief and unable to feel alive at all.
I came up with words that described the place where I found myself. It was “loneliness hotel,” “social isolation,” “boredom buddy,” “waiting by the phone,” and “Why can’t I get anything done?”
Then I reflected on the cause of my stuckness while waiting. “I’ve lost my cycling partner,” “I’m lonely and don’t have a friend to do stuff with,” “I lack purpose in my work,” and “I can’t have a celebration of life for Vicky like I want to because of Covid.”
I didn’t judge my thoughts or feelings — I just recorded them. It included ordinary stuff like work, family, and life.
2. Step back and reflect on your feelings while grieving
After I sat with my present reality, I stepped back and gave more descriptive words and language to my feelings. I was exhausted but found a comfortable chair and as best as I could, sat and wrote what came to me in my journal. It wasn’t something another person could do for me — I needed to find my own way through this reflection.
I asked myself a few questions and you can see in italics what I wrote in response.
When you wake up in the morning, what is the very first thought that comes to mind, and how does this thought make you feel? I feel alone, lethargic, and don’t want to work today. I feel in a rut combined with complacency and indifference. I feel overwhelmed, lazy, and undisciplined.
Where in my body are these feelings that I’m describing? I feel these feelings in my gut. My knees are stiff and sore. I feel tired in my eyes.
What feeling would you like to experience instead? I’d like to feel rested and raring to go, on fire and and clear on what I’m called to do.
When experiencing this new feeling, what would I like to have in my life? I would like to have a renewed vision for my work and more friends to do stuff with.
When you acknowledge what you want, do you feel unworthy of receiving it? If you do, where does that feeling come from? I feel unworthy to have money.
Assuming your feelings of unworthiness are warranted, why do you deserve the thing you have identified? I deserve a dynamic purpose and a solid income because I’m helping people with the wisdom and experience I have cultivated over many years.
3. Step back and observe your thoughts while grieving
After I spent time with my feelings, I switched gears and got rational. I focused on my thoughts and included behaviors as well. The place I sat was in my recliner.
I asked myself a series of questions and wrote down the answers (they are in italics and reflect what I said on the day I did this exercise).
What did you used to do that you are no longer doing? Write.
What are you doing now that you didn’t do before? I ride a single road bike instead of a tandem.
When was the last time you laughed? Yesterday when I laughed at something my dog Max did.
When was the last time you cried? Last Sunday while visiting with two friends.
When was the last time you spent time with a friend? Yesterday.
When was the last time you felt truly alive? What were you doing? Yesterday on a long bike ride.
What actions have you taken to start your life over? I gave away Vicky’s clothes, purged the garage, returned our leased car that Vicky drove, started playing golf again, said I was single, did paperwork, went back to work, planned a road trip, and said yes to long bike trip this summer.
What part of you has been in control since your loss? The resilient part of me. I will continue to use the resiliency muscles I have built up over time.
While answering these questions, what did you discover about your life you were unaware of? I discovered that I’ve got a long ways to go and am well aware that I don’t know what I don’t know.
Three Practical Steps to Help Walk This Out
If you’re ready for some deeper reflection, here are three very practical actions you can take to move these ideas into tangible action.
1. Set aside the time and place for this
What I’ve described for you isn’t something you do all at once but can be spaced out over time — at a pace you are comfortable with. It’s actually better to space it out over a few days and just sit with these questions along with your feelings and thoughts.
2. Be present with what shows up and don’t judge yourself
If you’re not used to the kind of self reflection I’m describing, it can be easy to judge yourself or feel awkward doing this kind of work. One of the gifts you can give yourself is to validate the feelings and thoughts you are having and as you write them down, just let the feelings and thoughts come without judgment.
3. Consider doing it again in 30 days to compare your progress
We change and see things differently as time passes. We are at a different place in our grief 30 days from now so to do it again in a month can open up new areas of awareness and healing.
Final Thoughts
You need to keep telling your story until your story no longer needs to be told.
If you know someone who might be ready for this kind of support for their grief journey, feel free to share it.
