Grief.
It’s the thing – the one thing that will affect your life in deep, significant and unforeseen ways like nothing else you will ever know in this life. Grief and all of her tentacles can make you a zombie, an alcoholic, or just another statistic. It can also show you who you really are.
Grief is the derivative of loss and loss always comes at the end. the end is something we never think about much in the beginning. In the beginning biology steps in and turns on the dopamine. We rejoice as the feelings that all is well in the world wash over us. These are some of the best moments we ever know in this life – especially with customers and lovers. And then one day it changes. Sometimes abruptly, sometimes by a thousand cuts, but eventually it changes. People, money and love all come and go. And when they leave, we are left standing in our grief.
Much has been written by psychologists about grief…it’s beginning, its process, and how it can eventually end as well. But as the smart ones know, there are patterns that emerge in the humans and so it is with grief. Grief is a process established in four steps. Maybe you know them and maybe don’t. But you should. If not now, eventually.
Anger
Anger is the first step in grief. Anger is the face of fear. We are afraid. Unsettled. Suddenly everything we trusted, knew, and counted on in this life is taken from us. The first human response is anger. In a way this makes sense because now nothing makes sense. Anger isn’t a thought, it’s a feeling. And for those without knowledge of self, anger can quickly get out of control.
The trick with anger isn’t to fight, it’s to feel.
Bargaining
Bargaining is the second step. Bargaining isn’t a response to anger, it’s an acknowledgement of powerlessness in our circumstance. One form of bargaining comes with your Higher Power. The last time I ever say my father he was lying dead on the floor in the kitchen. I was 25. I remember bargaining with God. But the bargain isn’t always with your invisible friend. I’ve also bargained with the police and my ex (although neither very well), and that brings us to the second act of the bargain: guilt after the fact. “If I wouldn’t have said that…” “If I would have done it differently…” “If only she/he had…”
In one way or another, we all make the bargain when we grieve.
Depression
As grief continues its process and anger and bargaining eventually fade, we one day find ourselves faced with the reality of our new reality. Things really are different and they will never be the same. We don’t like it, but we finally know it. This is often the worst knowing we will ever know. Suddenly the loss that is at the center of our grief is “real”.
This sense of moment often makes us retreat into our deepest sadness. This is depression. The depression step of the grief process is for some of us the most significant of all of the steps. We withdraw and retreat and our mind wanders through the dangerous neighborhoods we should never visit alone. And the very real truth about depression is that some of us don’t make it. And yet, the only way out is through.
But in all stages of grief, context matters and understanding is process. Having the context of being present to where you are and having the knowledge of the path out is the road to follow. Depression is a stage. You can get through it. Remember the words on King Salomon’s ring: “This too shall pass”.
(Even though it never seems so at the time).
Acceptance
Acceptance is the final step. It isn’t perfect, it’s just a form of better. Better than anger, better than bargain, better than depression. Acceptance does come, but it can take a while – even years. For some the beginning of acceptance is a kind of numbness – we’re just trying to find where we fit. A new job, a new zip code, a new person.
True acceptance only comes with what some call ‘The Work’. The work of grief has two legs (and maybe three): mental, emotional and if you’re so inclined, spiritual as well. To just believe you can get to acceptance by staying in denial is a fool’s errand because what we resist persists. Eventually our unfinished business manifests in our new environments both personal and professional. The term “adult children” doesn’t just apply to alcoholics, it applies to all of us, regardless of how our parents self-medicated their troubles away.
Perhaps the best way to look at grief is as a sort of teacher. Grief teaches us things about ourselves that a teacher never could. It also shows us parts of ourselves we’d sometimes rather not see. And in all things, especially grief, teach your children well.
Good luck and have a good week.
Joe Still
2021.06.20
Cite
“There is no grief like the grief that does not speak.”
– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow