Heartache To Healing

Tag: grief

  • Grief and Aikido: Relaxing Under Pressure

    gyanirichards.substack.com/p/grief-and-aikido-relaxing-under-pressure

    Article written by Gyani Richards, originally published on his substack.

    “Heaven is right where you are standing, and that is the place to train.”
    — Morihei Ueshiba, founder of Aikido

    Grief is one of the deepest kinds of spiritual work we will ever do because it arises from the deepest parts of who we are. As we explore these depths, we discover one of the most fundamental human behaviors, which is the reflexive habit of turning away from pain. Everything in our mental, physical, and emotional DNA tells us to avoid discomfort at all costs. We are wired to seek pleasure and to avoid pain. But this habit to avoid turns us in the wrong direction, away from the door of healing.

    At some point, however, through some unexpected loss, our reflex to escape pain is thwarted and we are pierced by the arrow of grief. Someone close to our hearts is taken and we are broken open. An earthquake of sorrow fills our chest. And dazed in the rubble, we find ourselves ill-prepared to respond to the scale and intensity of such internal disruption.

    Depending on our inner capacity, such thresholds can produce either promise or peril. Doors can open or they can close. In these times, a spiritual practice can provide invaluable support.

    Supporting Loss

    Four years ago, the wisdom of Aikido – a Japanese martial art based on the principles of harmony and non-resistance – helped prepare me for an encounter with loss when my younger brother died from cancer.

    Pete and I shared a rare bond of brotherhood for over sixty years, defined by boundless love, jaw-stretching humor, and a deep reverence for the gift of belonging we bestowed upon each other. The heartbreak of his passing remains a koan of sorrow that I will likely carry to the end of my days.

    But fortunately, I’d spent thousands of hours training in this beautiful art which helped ground and illuminate my path through the dark wilderness of grief. Specifically, the practices and principles of Aikido teach us the art of creating space within the constancy of life’s tight spots – those endless constellations of friction, inside and out, which define our lives. Using the tools of breath, movement, and attention, we learn to develop more room around our experience.

    Wrist Grabs

    For instance, we spend countless training hours practicing simple exercises with a partner – such as wrist grabs – to viscerally explore how we are wired to resist. Initially, it’s both shocking and embarrassing how quickly your world shrinks when someone grabs your wrist.

    In a nanosecond, you feel trapped and trespassed! But then you remember, “Oh, wait – I’m actually not being mugged in a dark alley, but learning how to harmoniously connect with another friendly human.”

    You exhale, relax your shoulders, reset your posture, and allow yourself to feel into the resistance. Being present to such moments, over time, provides the opportunity to rewire some of this primal patterning – the same inner constrictions that clog our grief process.

    “Body like the mountain, heart like the ocean, mind like the sky.”
    — Dogen

    A Still Point in Grief

    For me, as I swam through my own currents of loss, Aikido practice helped me cultivate a still point inside which served as a reliable atoll in the ocean of grief. Sometimes, especially in the early days, I felt like I was swept off the beach and tossed into the roiling water. But eventually, and rarely on my timeline, I would pop up to the surface and find my way back to my small spit of sand. It became a trustable place to return to, an inner refuge from which I could wait for the storm to pass.

    From one perspective, the grief process and Aikido training are both explorations into the nature of resistance. They each perfectly mirror who we become under duress. One of the guiding principles in Aikido that is intimately applicable to our relationship with grief is the notion of relaxing under pressure. Or, how not to resist pressure.

    Untrained, our (nervous) systems generally do not operate this way. Whether we are grabbed by grief or by our partner on the mat, our default response is the same: we tighten and contract. We resist. But, as always, the training is to remember: breathe, relax, and invite a little more space to arise.

    Non-Resistance

    When Pete died, I was confronted by my own inner tempest of resistance which arose as shades and shards of shock, denial, numbness, rage, sadness, confusion, and all the rest.

    However, over time, I built my little atoll one shovel of sand at a time. There were moments when the grief waves receded and something new arrived on the horizon of my attention. In addition to my conditioned impulse to push, pull, fight and flee from the pain of loss – resisting what was present – I began to ask: “What would non-resistance feel like here?”

    At first, this inquiry began as a simple thought. Like a mind arrow that points itself toward a deeper exploration. My training had helped form new internal bridges between my psyche and my soma, so this inquiry slid naturally downward from my head to my heart, into the primal pond of grief.

    As I watered this new movement with my attention, it began to open on its own. Now and then, it felt like the resistance pattern had been temporarily interrupted. A shift occurred in which I was no longer bobbing around in the great sea of grief, but the sea of grief was bobbing around inside a more spacious version of me. Paying attention had expanded a portion of my inner terrain.

    As we each travel our unique inner landscapes, brailing our way from Here to a deeper Here, sometimes the smallest tools can make the biggest difference. Our attention is that tool.

    Read the authors other articles on grief: https://gyanirichards.substack.com/

  • Love Doesn’t Die – People Do

    Lessons in living from a life well-lived. Sharing memories lives on in each of us.

    A dear friend and mentor died a couple of weeks ago.  She was a month short of her 97th birthday. The funeral service was truly a celebration of a life well-lived. In fact, she was the model of how to live life in grace and because she was such an inspiration, people were not weeping but laughing and smiling as the clergy along with family and friends shared stories of her life.

    Love Doesn’t Die – People Do

    I was so moved by the clergy who wanted us all to know that the love we had for Joan will never leave us. She may have left the earth, but she lives on in all of us evidenced by everyone in attendance who came to celebrate her life.
    This is a reminder to all of us who have lost loved ones  –  know that the love we have for them lives on in our memories, in our families and often in the legacy they left behind.

    You’re as Young as You Feel

    Joan was recognized as one of the oldest motivational speakers in the U.S. which she started at age 50. She published her first book at age 56, “I Don’t Want Much From Life, I Want More!”

    Up until her death, Joan was committed to empowering others and believed that we have more control over our own ageing than we did in the past. Her sixth book “Now or Never – The Choice is Yours” was published in 2018” and sure to inspire others for years to come.

    Joan Kennedy 2018 Book Signing
    “At every age, your life deserves fulfillment, meaning, fun and laughter.”

    Loss Teaches us Lessons in Life

    It sometimes happens we get stuck in our grief; we have a hard time moving forward to live our own life following the death of a loved one or any other deep loss such as divorce, loss of a job or a home. Yes, deep losses can leave a hole in our life, but Joan would say “remember, your loved one would want you to keep living.” 

    As life happens, sometimes we get hit by some challenging curve balls and Joan’s life was no exception. She was orphaned as a child, abandoned, divorced and a single mother. At 65, she endured the loss of her home from a fire. Losing all her professional and personal belongings she thought she would never be able to start again, not at 65.

    One day, in a monthly magazine published by AARP, she came across a statistic that changed the way she perceived herself. The statistic was, “The fastest-growing age group, are people in their 80’s.”

    That fact inspired Joan to re-build her business and start again. It also changed her thinking to more positively proclaim, “I’m only 65.” One of Joan’s powerful messages today is not to let the calendar dictate when you are old and worrying about age is a waste of time.


    No one else is going to come along to make your life more than it is. Your life is an individual responsibility, an individual opportunity, and an individual experience

    Joan Kennedy

    Everything in Life is a Choice

    In March of this year, Joan’s doctor recommended hospice care, he said to her “Joan you’ve climbed many mountains in your life, you’re not going to get over this one.”  At the time I had been working with her on a facilitator manual to accompany her latest book. She wanted her legacy to be carried on through her work and have others teaching workshops based on her book.  She told me a couple of weeks later that she didn’t think she would be graduating from hospice so best get the workbook done!

    Everything in life is a choice, Joan reaffirmed this to me every time I talked with her. After hospice started paying her a visit, she said one day “I’m not alone, I’m not sad. I feel like I’m part of the future.”

    Tomorrow isn’t Promised to Anyone

    I’ve learned much through my own losses along with wisdom from my friend Joan. She said, “the things we wish we had done in our lives will be the things we put off, the dreams we let slip away, relationships we failed to nurture, and projects we started but never finished.” Well done Joan.

    Make the decision now to celebrate your life while honoring and loving those who have passed on. 

    Is there something you want to do with your life that you haven’t?  Leave me a comment below, I’d love to support you. – JoAnne

    JoAnne Funch with Joan Kennedy

  • When Anger Shows Up in Grief-How to Get Through It

    WhenAngerShowsUpInGriefHowToGetThroughIt

    Often we are angry following a death, it’s possible we don’t know how to handle these feelings or how to get through it

    By Jackie Trottmann

    After my mother’s death, the last emotion I thought I would feel is anger. Well, really… rage. It welled up from deep inside of me like I was possessed.

    I wasn’t angry because of her passing. She had lived to be 96 with her wits about her until the end. Even with congestive heart failure and complications with diabetes, she didn’t suffer. What more of a blessing could you ask for?

    Anger Shows Up in Grief by Exposing Past Wounds

    Since I was a teenager I have kept journals. Writing has helped me to heal. When I was writing about this anger, I realized where it came from. I was angry for what I would never receive from her, her approval and to hear the words, “I’m proud of you.”

    As much as I talk about letting go of the past in the meditations I offer, sometimes, we suppress deep wounds so much that we are unaware of them. These wounds are what surfaced with rage.

    Her death made me realize that not only had my father abandoned me, but she had too. After my father’s alcoholic rages, we never talked about it. I was never able to express my feelings and confusion. We all lived hunkered down in our silos… surviving. My mother dealt with any trouble or grief by stuffing it down in her British, stiff-upper-lip way.

    Music was her life – her purpose. She received love and approval from the stage. When I was an adult, it was always about her.

    You Get Through Your Anger by Getting Help

    The hospice people were wonderful in caring for my mother during her last days. They had also been a God send to me. I received several calls and letters after her death telling me that they were there if I needed them. Each time I would thank them and tell them, “I’m good.”

    When this rage took me by surprise, I called the counselor, Jill, to meet and talk about it.

    After sharing my feelings, she asked me how I was dealing with the anger. I told her that I had journaled about it, but nothing else. She suggested that I physically get the anger out. One of the things she liked to do was to buy cheap plates from Goodwill and smash them. I chuckled at that idea. She said that it was really important to get the anger out.

    I am not an angry person. My father’s angry outbursts would cause me to shut down. To this day, I can’t stand to hear someone yelling.

    The next day I met with my spiritual director. He also suggested that I break something and recommended I use glasses. He told me to write on the glasses what I didn’t receive and then break them.

    I didn’t like the plate idea, because I didn’t want to clean up a mess. Then I got the idea that we have a recycling center in our community. There is a huge dumpster. That’s where I could throw my glasses!

    You Get through Your Anger by Physically Releasing It

    I found six glasses and wrote things that I would never receive from my mother like: “I’ll never hear I’m proud of you. You only thought of me as busy. You never acknowledged my achievements.”

    I took the glasses to the recycling center. The bin for glass resembled a pitching cage. There was a huge backdrop made of metal that funneled into the dumpster. Perfect!

    When the coast was clear of visitors, I took out the first glass, read what was on it, and in my best side-arm hurled it at the backdrop. The glass shattered into a million pieces.

    I realized that I had never intentionally broken anything before. Knowing that people would be coming and going, I quickly read a glass and threw it. There wasn’t a feeling of euphoria, however, there was a sense of closure. The glass was irreparable. Like Humpty Dumpty, it could not be put back together again.

    Immediately after I threw the last glass, I felt compelled to head to church where I sat in the sanctuary. I didn’t pray. I just sat in stillness and silence.

    Later that night, we had choir practice. It was then that I felt a sense of lightness. The anger and rage hasn’t returned.

    Accept that Anger is Part of Life – Anger Leads to Understanding

    Thanks to Jill, I accept that anger is part of life. In my Christian faith, I am reminded of how even Jesus became angry when God’s house was turned into a retail outlet. He turned over tables and drove the moneychangers out with a whip!

    The anger I felt transformed into understanding. As a mother, I know first-hand that we are not given a parenting manual! Thinking about my mother’s early life, she did not have a mother who nurtured her. Her mother was very cruel. Based on that fact, my mother had done remarkably well as far as loving us as young children.

    I planned a wonderful service for her. On display were her costumes all hanging on a huge coat rack. It was a sunny day and the light was dancing off of the sequins and various patterns. I had a DVD of her show that she performed at her care facility playing alongside the costumes. There was a table that had pictures that documented her entire life. Her favorite English tea was served along with English biscuits. Our choir director, Bill, serenaded attendees from the piano, playing the songs that she sang in her one-woman show.

    My brother and I each spoke. I shared what a tremendous life that she had lived. I also shared her triumphs and sorrows.

    That Sunday at church was Christ the King Sunday. The scripture was when Jesus was on the cross. His words were, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

    My mother was not aware that she had caused this pain. I’m not sure we could have had a mature conversation about it without her taking it personally and my hurting her. I know that she did the best that she could. I also know that I would not want anyone else as a mother. She was truly amazing. She lived life on her terms and to the fullest. She was a bright light. I was so very proud of her. (Which I had told her many times.)

    About fifty people came to the service. There were only two relatives that showed up. While the service was all about her, it didn’t occur to me until weeks later that most of the people were there to make it all about supporting me. That was a true blessing.

    We all tend to stuff our feelings down. No one likes confrontations. Denial can be our closest friend. The people that hurt us may not even know that they are hurting us. That is why we who see must shine the light of awareness where there is darkness.

    The first lesson I learned here is not to have unresolved business with anyone. I would also add that people need to know how much they mean to you. Only God can read minds.

    After the funeral I told my son that I have certainly made my mistakes in parenting, especially during the years of the divorce process. I told him that I didn’t want any feelings to be unresolved between the two of us. I want to be fully aware of my actions and the consequences from those actions.

    So, don’t wait until it’s too late to make things right with anyone. Know that it’s okay to be angry and to express your anger. The second lesson I learned is that anger is part of life.

    When anger shows up in grief, get through it by getting help and physically releasing it. Know that you can heal deep wounds that will finally come to light. Seek, above all, to understand.

    If you’ve never received the approval you longed for, I hope this Word – Approval, taken from my book God Notes – Daily Doses of Divine Encouragement will help you feel it in your heart from the Source that truly matters.

    Approval

    When you break your connection to Me, you lose sight of Whose you are.

    Your confidence will wane. You will seek…

    Approval from family,

    Approval from those you with,

    Approval from friends.

    Their approval doesn’t matter.

    Only My approval matters.

    When you seek to live your life from truth, justice, kindness, and humility, you will automatically win the approval of others operating from these same values.

    You have My approval, My blessing.

    You are My beloved. In you I am well pleased.

    – Jackie Trottmann is an international author and speaker. Learn more at https://www.jackietrottmann.com/

  • Letting Go After Loss

    Letting Go After Loss

    Letting Go Following a Mother’s Death

    By the age of twelve, I knew what the word cancer meant. My mother had been diagnosed with stage-four pancreatic cancer shortly after Mother’s Day in 1988. Her physicality had slowly deteriorated, and she returned home from the hospital a fragment of the woman she had once been. Chemotherapy thinned her hair, and her swollen legs prevented mobility. I did my best to keep out of sight because I didn’t want to be present when my mother drew her last breath and slipped from this world into the next.

    I saw my mother for the last time on Saturday, June 18. That night, after telling her I loved her. I retreated to my room, but not before taking one last look at my mom, who was rocking back and forth, an attempt to comfort herself against the pain that ravaged her body. I slept peacefully through the night unaware that by dawn my mother’s agony would come to an end. When I awakened the next day, death had taken my mother without my permission.

    The funeral took place on June 22 – my mother’s 40th birthday. But instead of balloons and gifts, there were flowers and sympathy cards. Instead of “Happy Birthday,” I listened as the church choir sang “Amazing Grace.” Despondency claimed a permanent place in my world, and I prayed for my mother to return. But she never did.

    Through the years, my mother’s death weighed heavily on my mind. I harbored resentment at the world for taking her away and denying me the chance to see her through the eyes of an adult. Our relationship would remain frozen in childhood memories of fairy tales and bedtime stories; trips to the playground and toy store; the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus.

    The most pivotal moment came when I grudgingly found my way to the cemetery at the age of twenty – the place where I not only buried my mother eight years earlier, but myself as well. I knew that the only way to achieve tranquility would be to stand at the grave of my mother and offer her up to God. But the words did not come readily, so I stood staring at the trees in the distance, listening as the wind rustled their leaves. I looked across the cemetery at the lake, the water glistening with streaks of gold. Still, the words would not come. I sat on the ground next to my mom’s gravestone, my mind sifting through memories. I thought about the days my mother and I took long walks; the times she took me to the movies; the nights she spent by my side when I was sick. I thought about her cancer and how terrified I was to lose her and that day in June when I finally did.

    Suddenly, an epiphany. Maybe giving my mother to God meant returning her from whence she came. My mother didn’t belong to me, she never had. She was merely a gift bestowed upon me, however short our time together may have been. I had been holding my mother hostage in a world where she no longer belonged, and, in the process, I inadvertently kept myself locked in a past that didn’t exist. Finally, the words I’d been waiting for poured from my lips: “Mom,” I whispered, “I am ready to let you go.”

    My mother’s soul was free, but that didn’t mean we were no longer connected. She was part of the woman I had become and could be found in my gestures and features, my laughter and tears. In my reluctance to move forward, I failed to recognize her whenever I looked in the mirror.

    ARTICLE AUTHOR:
    Tara-Lynn-Marta-WriterTara Lynn Marta holds a BA in English from Penn State University, and she is currently working on her MA in Creative Writing at Wilkes University. Tara has been published by Aaduna, Inc., The Gorge, PoetrySoup, and The Humor Times. She is a book reviewer for At the Inkwell as well as a contributing blogger for the American Writers Museum.

  • Grieving Without Regret

    grieving without regret

    Can there be grieving without regret?  The experience of this strong emotion is both individual and universal to one extent or another.

    We experience regret when we look back on our actions and  feel we should or could have done something differently.  In my article “When an Ex-Spouse Dies”, there are hundreds of comments from readers who experience regret following the death of their ex-spouse.  Emotions from their past stirred unexpected feelings of both sadness and regret even when many had moved on to new relationships and marriages.

    Is it regret or guilt?

    Sometimes guilt and regret seem to be the same thing when in fact they aren’t.  Guilt is that emotion we experience when we know something is morally wrong.  As I said above, regret pings our mind wondering if we could have done something differently.

    Letting go of despair

    I so often hear from those grieving when they are in a state of despair. They haven’t learned how to move through grief.  There is a great passage by Jerry Sittser the author of “A Grace Disguised: How the Soul Grows through Loss.” that offers perspective:

    Many people are destroyed by loss because, learning what they could have been but failed to be, they choose to wallow in guilt and regret, to become bitter in spirit, or to fall into despair. While nothing they can do will reverse the loss, it is not true that there is nothing they can do to change. The difference between despair and hope, bitterness and forgiveness, hatred and love, and stagnation and vitality lies in the decisions we make about what to do in the face of regrets over an unchangeable and painful past. We cannot change the situation, but we can allow the situation to change us. We exacerbate our suffering needlessly when we allow one loss to lead to another. That causes gradual destruction of the soul. This destruction of the soul represents the tragedy of what I call the “second death,” and it can be a worse tragedy than the first. The death that comes through loss of spouse, children, parents, health, job, marriage, childhood, or any other kind is not the worst kind of death there is. Worse still is the death of the spirit, the death that comes through guilt, regret, bitterness, hatred, immorality, and despair.

    Is Steps to dealing with regret and guilt

    Helen Fitzgerald in The Mourning Handbook: A Complete Guide for the Bereaved offers several suggestions for dealing with regrets and guilt. Although this is an older publication many of these steps are practical and useful.

    1. Begin by identifying what is causing you to feel regretful or guilty. Make a list and determine what causes you to feel guilty and what causes you to feel regretful. Writing the list may in itself be beneficial. Look at your list. Think about what you could do to reduce the regrets.
    2. Be careful not to second-guess yourself. Don’t be overly critical of your behavior. People are generally doing the very best they can during a stressful time. Fitzgerald says “don’t assign greater strength to yourself now than those circumstances would have allowed.” We are not super human beings.
    3. Try to be objective. If the guilt is real you may need professional help to deal with it. But if the guilt is more your own way of looking at the situation, talk about it with a trusted friend. Perhaps another person can help you look at the situation differently.
    4. Plan to do something to eliminate your guilt. Maybe there’s a task you’ve been putting off doing or something you could do for someone else. You need to decide how much you should do in order to let go of your feelings of guilt.
    5. Be ready to forgive yourself. If that seems hard to do; then think about why it is difficult.
    6. Think about what you have learned. Ask yourself what you could do to prevent having similar feelings in the future. If you wish you had expressed your feelings of love then resolve to do it now to people you care about.
    7. Finally, don’t forget the many good things you did for that person. Remember those good things when you start feeling bad about yourself. Writing them down may be helpful.

    Forgiving yourself

    I think the most important step in releasing regret is simply forgiving yourself.  Remember you made the best decision you could at the moment in time when you made it. Second guessing your decision is futile, but honoring your decisions and forgiving yourself for feeling regret is a big step to healing.

    We can’t change the past – we can only make different decisions for the future.  Saying out loud “I forgive you and I love you” is powerful.  If you are a person of faith you can pray to the person who has passed and tell them your regrets and then let them go.