Living Life with Death Lessons

“So you’re leaving the field?”  A friend asked as I shared with her my new business venture.

“Well, no.” I replied lightly.

“Oh okay, then what are you doing?”

“Bringing what I learned in death to the living.”

“Oh.”

More or less, this has been the conversations with friends and family as I explain my venture into the entrepreneur world with a few variations in responses, such as “What?”, “Damn,” and “I don’t get it.”  The good thing is, I have formed a thick exterior to the perplexities of what I do. Working in childhood bereavement prepared me for that.  It has been a source of so much reward, but it often garnishes a mix of response. Let me provide an example:

Stranger: What do you do?
Me:  I work in childhood bereavement. *Smile and hold eye contact*

This usually prompts a face that clearly expresses confusion or surprise.  After all, it isn’t the typical answer most people would expect from a casual conversation. I’m a hair stylist, teacher, police officer, corporate executive or I work in finance.  But bereavement with kids? This usually prompts me to break down what I mean by childhood bereavement.

Me:  I create space and support for children, teens and their families after someone in their life dies.  That journey is lifelong. 

At this point, my explanation prompts one of two responses. First is “I don’t know how you do that type of work. I would cry all the time,” and they proceed to skirt to a different topic that doesn’t jolt their small talk Rolodex.  This happens a lot, even with family and friends … And I get it.  The bean dip and chips tend to get lodged when I talk about the stigma around homicide and how to talk to children about funerals.

Or …

It registers deep within them a loss they have experienced and I inadvertently have received an invitation into their grief story. They have retrieved a loss that prompts a share or they have someone they care about deeply on their mind. This has given me some surprisingly intimate moments with very random people that have ranged from passengers at airport terminals, a server at a restaurant, to fellow parents at a child’s school birthday party. With a few exceptions to my own boundaries, I hold it and empathetically listen.  

Megan Devine, grief author and expert says it succinctly, “we never give grief any air time in this culture.  Everyone is carrying some kind of loss.”

To hammer this point a little further David Kessler, Founder of grief.com and Grief Care Specialist says, “Each person's grief is as unique as their fingerprint. But what everyone has in common is that no matter how they grieve, they share a need for their grief to be witnessed.”

Grief needs to go somewhere. It needs to be seen.

The paradox is that while grief is a natural response that desires to be witnessed, it is the journey that has the ability to disconnect us from our person, families, support system and ourself.  We live in a grief adverse and pain adverse society, and in a career that requires the ability to look pain directly in the eye (and sometimes those eyes are 4 years old), you start to recognize ways to live more whole.  How can we apply them before loss arises, so that we operate from a gentler and compassionate way of living?

It’s as simple as showing up, and that’s it.

A good part of my career hasn’t been “teaching” grief, but unlearning myths and misconceptions that block our ability to be truly empathetic and present.  When someone unexpectedly shares something deeply personal and raw, there is a knee-jerk reaction to rescue. Sometimes it is because we see someone in pain and we want to lessen it with cliché words like “Be strong!” or “It could be worse.”  If this was done to you, most likely you either politely accepted their advice and continued grieving  (just not with them) or you told them to “kick rocks.”  But another reason people rescue is because they are too uncomfortable witnessing the pain.  

I remember when my toddlers would fall, I remember having that immediate need to run and pick them up and smother them in kisses.  I also remember pausing to let them asses and express their pain to get a better idea of what they just experienced and need.  Sometimes my son would come up for a hug and other times he picked himself up and kept on wobbling.  Empathy is listening and staying in a place where we connect to the feeling that is being experienced.  Often, we learn this after we’ve put our foot in our mouth (self included!), but once we have removed our foot and taking a deep breath, how much easier is it to show up and listen?  Listening to witness is more transformational than the fix-it language. 

Good people with good intentions, still get it wrong

The best way to create a good, healthy self-image is to be honest about self-definition.  I would like to sing, but I can’t  - Steve Brown, No More Mr. Nice Guy

Emotional Intelligence (EQ) is such a buzzword in leadership nowadays and for good reason. We need it.  Unfortunately, like many things that have value, it requires time, practice, and humility.  EQ is our ability to understand our emotions and the management of our responses, as well as understand our environment and how our behaviors can impact a situation. Going back to the person who says something in attempts to rescue us from pain, they may have a strong understanding of what they mean, but have a disconnection between reading what a you may actually need (Situational Awareness).  

When good people get it wrong, it can be hard to put them back into your support network.  Before reacting, take a moment to assess the situation and advocate for your needs.  And if you are on the receiving end of difficult news, ask how they can be supported.  Once we relieve ourselves from the responsibility of knowing the right thing to say or do, it allows us to be more present to the experience in front of us.  And the great thing is, we can still be a good people and get it wrong.  The next steps are to own the experience, become aware of it and grow from it.  

Some grief framework can make us all a little better

Strobe and Schut’s Dual Process Model of Coping with Bereavement, is used to describe the oscillation between two orientations after a death..  When someone experiences a death they have two spaces they oscillate between.  First is the Loss-oriented space where they experience the grief work. This may take the form of avoidance, denial, and changing relationship and bonds.  The other space is the Restoration-oriented space in where someone will attend to the life changes, try new things, form new relationships and invest in new activities outside of their grief.

Dual Process Model of Coping with Bereavement - Stroebe & Schut

The model states that when someone is in their grief, they will oscillate between these two orientations in a lifelong journey.  Where they land can depend on many factors including(but not limited to) stressors, time from loss, milestones, anniversaries and triggers.  When someone is going through a loss, instead of using language that implies that they should get over it or leave the past in the past,  how much more could we learn if we simply checked in, ask about the hard stuff, and accept people where they are at without judgment… no matter how long its been.

In working with grieving teens when they returned to school after a death, they described how it felt when they would enter a classroom, where teachers and peers knew about their loss and no one said anything.  Time and again, I heard teens say, “Them saying nothing and knowing, was worse then saying nothing at all.”  When given the opportunity to have someone who authentically cared about their well-being and inquired, it made them feel seen.  Now what this does not mean, is that the person approached person MUST share.  What it does mean, is that an invitation to share has been created that they can choose to accept or decline.  

***

What does all of this mean in life?  That there is no magical phrase that can take away pain, so the pressure to fix is relieved, but there is the ability to listen and be in the moment.  That when our people are not helpful or say things that are hurtful, they are not inherently bad people, but they can get it wrong.  There is an opportunity to share what wasn’t helpful, advocate for what is, and extend grace.  If they don’t change, then they may have self selected out.  Lastly, no matter how far out a loss, it is never too late to check in.

While I have undoubtedly learned much more than this in grief (both personally and professionally), these have been a few major lessons in my life that have transformed the way I live.  In a time where our culture sees pain and leans away, lean in.

So here I am, the Life Coach that learned through death … and still learning.