WAKING UP HAPPY: Just Connect

THE PROFILE

This Is a “We” Thing: Wisdom from Raoul

Raoul says: One of my big struggles in quitting drugs has been discovering who I am and learning to like that person. This journey is, of course, partly a private quest. But it’s also about being part of a whole.

Support groups and networks of like-minded friends are invaluable. Putting my struggles into words and having people nod with acceptance is an unbelievable release. It has saved my life.

Listening to others’ stories reaffirms that I’m making the right decisions and becoming the person I want to be. The more I discover about myself, the more open I can be to other people. The more I care about others, the more I like myself. It’s a never-ending circle of comfort, mutual esteem, problem-solving, friendship, and solace.

THE KEYS:

1.      Finding yourself and moving forward isn’t a solitary task. Those who conquer their addictions say they couldn’t have done so without a group of supporters. It’s less often discussed – but no less true – that the loved ones of addicts also need a circle of support to keep their equilibrium, navigate a scary world, and deal with the stigma and scorn they may feel from people who don’t understand the nature of addiction.

2.      Support groups are life-savers. It may take time to find the right group, but it is well worth the time and energy of scoping one out. People who attend support groups say that as they listen to stories unspool like soft yarn, they often feel they’re hearing their own words in another voice. Sharing the burden makes it lighter, and you will find hope and inspiration along the way.

THREE ACTIONS TO PRACTICE:

1.      Find as many others as possible to talk to about your struggles. Ask around to find parents’ groups in your area, or consider starting your own. A wonderful tool is meetup.com, which lists groups in your area that meet your criteria and gives you the tools to start your own groups. Al-Anon is another good place to start. You may find others in your situation, or you can ask the people there if they know of other support groups that may be helpful. Be careful about sharing too much with old friends, who may not understand what you’re going through. Sound them out carefully before confiding in them. Find people who are open-minded enough to understand and who won’t judge you harshly.

2.      Tell your story from your heart. Once you’ve found people you can trust, tell them the whole truth. Once you’ve let the words out, you’ll feel an immense relief, and each time it will become easier to say. If you don’t share your pain, it may suffocate and defeat you.

3.      On a sheet of paper, write the names of everyone you count on. Next to each name, write a few words explaining how that person gives you the support you need. If you wish your network were stronger, think of steps you could take to add to it. Write down ways you could introduce your friends to one another to make your network more effective. (Research shows that when you introduce your friends, you’ll have more access to everything flowing through your network and will be more likely to achieve your goals.)

For more exercises, take a look at WAKING UP HAPPY, which includes over 30 memoirs and concrete steps to creating a joyful life, www.WakingUpHappy.co.

JILL SAYS:

The only thing that got me through the hard years of my daughter Andrea’s addiction was finding other parents I could talk to. My friends at the time were mostly professional people whose children were winning awards, getting top grades, and achieving marvelous things. Andrea had dropped out of high school, run away from home on a regular basis, lived on the street, and almost died from overdoses numerous times. At 15, she was arrested and placed by social services in a “home for delinquent girls,” as Andrea called it.

The more I heard my friends rave about their kids’ accomplishments, the more I shriveled up inside. When they asked, “And how’s Andrea doing?” and I tried to tell them, I could see the shock and repugnance in their eyes. They had no way of relating, and I didn’t blame them. Andrea had been a great kid till her teen years, and I had been smug, thinking that parents whose children got into trouble just hadn’t been very good parents.

           

I didn’t tell my friends too much, but I didn’t lie, either. I had been so humbled by the experience that I realized I had to be honest. I had to help others understand that the horrors of addiction can happen in any family. I had just begun to speak out about the mental illness in my family, and I saw that this was the same.

           

A few of those friends actually remained friends. They were the ones who saw our struggle as courage rather than weakness. But most of my “friends” fell away and were replaced by people who were going through the same nightmare as I was or who were compassionate enough to put themselves in my shoes.

           

The saving grace was attending support groups with other parents whose kids were in the social service system. I could tell them the worst of the awful things that were happening and see empathy instead of horror in their eyes. They understood. It was freeing to tell my story, it was a balm to hear other people’s stories, and it was medicine for the soul when – miracle of miracles – we were able to laugh together as well as cry.

Please contact me with your own stories, strategies, insights, and any questions you may have, as well as an answer to this question, if you’d like to reflect on it and send me your answer:

Have you found people you can trust to tell your deepest feelings and share your greatest pain?

For a listing of local parent/family support groups and ways to connect with others, see information on the Parent Addiction Network at http://www.safercommunity.net/parent_resources_parent_self_care.php

NOTE:  The URL to Jill's book, Waking Up Happy has changed.  It is now available at www.WakingUpHappy.co

WAKING UP HAPPY: Begin a Journey of Trust

 Positive, transformative change IS possible. You can make it happen by doing just a few small things differently each week. In time, those tiny changes will be life-altering.

 

THE PROFILE: Become Your Authentic Self: Wisdom from Tony

Tony says: For so long, I lived for other people. If I’d met you then, I would have summed you up quickly, figured out what I thought you wanted from me, and given it to you full-force. You probably would have liked me. Most people did, at least at first. But eventually, you would have realized I wasn’t who you thought I was. It was all pretense, an ugly sham, a hoax.

 

Now, I still lie constantly, but I own up to it. I might say to you, “I finished reading that book you gave me. No, sorry! That’s a total lie! I meant to finish it, but I didn’t.” Or I might say, “I went to a meeting yesterday - no, forget that! That’s my lying self talking!”

        
My friends are used to me confessing to my lies on a pretty constant basis now. It may seem ridiculous, but I would rather be a foolish-sounding truth-teller than a smooth-talking fraud.

Sometimes I lie to make myself look better – smarter, kinder, more competent. Sometimes I might make things up because I think it will make you like me more. Most of the time, I can’t tell you, or myself, why I lie. It’s just an ingrained habit.

 

Everyone who’s ever abused a substance or had an addiction has had a lot of practice with lying. If the people who loved us had known how much we were drinking and using, they would have tried to stop us, and that’s the last thing we wanted. So we lied.

 

By the time I got sober, I was so sick of all the pretense. I made a vow to myself: No more pretending. Rather than tailoring myself to be liked and validated from the outside, I decided to work from the inside out.

 

Self-acceptance is the key. It’s OK for me not to always look like I know what’s going on. It’s OK to feel awful and talk about it. It’s OK to show my vulnerability. And it’s all right for me to disagree with you and not be exactly the person you want me to be. I don’t have to look the part, or talk the talk, as long as I walk the walk of authenticity, as much as I possibly can, every day.

I’ll probably always be a liar. But by admitting it, to myself and to you, I’m taking control of it. I’m not letting pretense rule me. And that’s the only way I can get in touch with my bona fide self.

 

Addiction saved me. I know that sounds strange, but it’s true. Using drugs, entering recovery, and then starting over from scratch, with people by my side to help me – that whole process was what introduced me to myself. If I hadn’t gone through it, I would still be the glib, heedless person I once was. I’m still getting to know who I am, and becoming true to that self will be a life-long journey. But I know now that if I don’t keep looking at myself with unflinching honesty and unblinking eyes, I’ll never get where I need to be.

           
Tony’s best advice: Come to terms with your lying. It’s important to understand that everyone lies. In The Liar in Your Life: The Way to Truthful Relationships, Robert Feldman describes research revealing that in ten-minute conversations with strangers, people tell an average of three lies. Other studies show we start lying when we’re babies, crying and making a fuss to get attention, and there’s a hereditary advantage to lying. We’re born to lie.
 
Addicts make lying and manipulating others a way of life. When they stop using, they’re often consumed with guilt about all the lies they’ve told and the trust they’ve broken. The first step to forgiving yourself is to understand that lying is a common part of life. Perhaps you’ve raised it to a fine art, but that doesn’t make you a bad person.
 

If you resolve never to lie again, you’re setting yourself up for failure. Instead, commit yourself to trying to lie less. Before you speak, think for a second, because it’s easy to lie automatically if you aren’t careful.

 

Don’t use a commitment to honesty as a reason to rub harsh truths in people’s faces. Balance a sincere effort to be candid with sensitivity to people’s feelings.

 

Realize that the person who is hurt most when you lie is you. Every time you tell the truth, you’ll feel better about yourself.

 

Learn to be comfortable with uncertainty and ambiguity. You’re not either honest or dishonest. You’re a human being who lies sometimes, like everyone else, but who is moving away from a life of deception.

 

Most of all, try not to lie to yourself. You need to act differently with different people and in various situations. That’s part of being a social creature and getting along with others. But don’t let these different social stances confuse you about who you really are. Being true to yourself is the most important thing of all.

 

THE KEYS:

1. As someone who loves an addict, you’ve felt betrayed, had your heart broken, and wondered if you could ever rebuild the relationship you once had. You can’t. But you can build a new relationship if you’re patient, realistic, and willing to forgive and put the past behind you. You may have wondered if your loved one is a pathological liar. That’s extremely unlikely, although it’s understandable that you’ve had the thought, because those who are addicted lie so readily (as Tony explains in the profile, above).

Research shows that dishonesty is linked to creativity, and other studies show a connection between addiction and creativity. There are many wonderful things about creativity, but one of its dark sides is that creative people will be ingenious in finding ways around the truth if it’s to their advantage. But there is also clear evidence that they don’t want to be dishonest. So if you give them a chance to reset their moral compass, they will. Rituals of resetting, which include everything from the Catholic confession to the New Year’s resolution, are often a good way to jumpstart the process.

   
My favorite story about resetting comes from a woman described by Dan Ariely in The (Honest) Truth about Dishonesty. She realized that her maid was stealing meat from the freezer every few days. So, first, she put a lock on the freezer. Then she gave the maid a key and a raise, telling her that people who worked at the house were taking meat and that she wanted only the two of them to have keys. The stealing stopped completely.

It is a wonderful story, because it combines all the important things we need to do to create trusting relationships with our loved ones: We need to have faith that the better parts of their natures will eventually overcome deceitful tendencies. We need to monitor them closely so we don’t make it easy for them to lie or cheat. (Putting the lock on the freezer assured that the maid couldn’t steal without making a conscious effort beforehand, making it less likely that she would follow through on her dishonest impulses.) And, when we know they’ve slipped, rather than berate them, we need to give them opportunities to reset their honesty level and begin anew.

2. Understand – and help your loved ones understand – that there are two types of lies – innocuous ones and destructive ones – and there’s a world of difference between the two. Some lies are a polite, positive part of life (“I’d be delighted to come!”) or harmless exaggerations (“I’ve been to that restaurant dozens of times!”) Others can destroy relationships. The most hurtful lies come when people break promises, vows, and bonds of trust (“I promise I won’t break your confidence,” “I vow to be true to you till death do us part.”)

 

It’s vital to make a distinction between these two types of lies, be relaxed about the harmless ones, and keep the destructive ones from wreaking havoc. Be very thoughtful about this. Sometimes we think we’re “protecting” our loved ones when we lie to them. I did this with my own daughter as she was growing up, answering her when she asked, “What’s wrong?” by saying, “Nothing.” That was a huge lie, and of course she knew it. Not only did it cause her to distrust me, but it caused her to distrust herself and her own perceptions. I have apologized to her for this betrayal of her trust, and she has forgiven me. That reckoning was a kind of “resetting” for both of us. On the other hand, when she comes to me now in despair, I hold her and tell her, “It’s OK. Everything will be all right,” and I don’t consider that a lie, because I feel sure in my heart that things will work out.

 

3. Be a role model of authenticity. The best way to build a trusting relationship is to be totally honest and straightforward yourself, to learn to know yourself and be true to who you really are, to create an atmosphere in which all people are valued for their unique selves and encouraged to tell the truth about who they are and what they think and feel. Here (adapted from The Truth about Lies in the Workplace by Carol Kinsey Goman) are some ways to build that environment of trust:

• Always do what you say you’ll do.
• Don’t set expectations that can’t be met. Be sure your expectations are clear and reasonable.  Don’t have rules that will cause honest people to lie and cheat because they feel your demands are unfair. Involve them in decisions that will affect them, listen to what they have to say, and act on their input.
• Acknowledge, reward, and promote honesty. Praise your loved ones for being open and honest. Don’t criticize small missteps.
• Don’t tell someone you “don’t know” if you do know. Conversely, don’t be afraid to say you don’t know something if you truly don’t.
• Don’t pretend to ask for someone else’s opinion if you’ve already made up your mind. Never ask for input and then ignore it.
• Celebrate the ways in which your loved ones differ from you, and encourage a flow of honest debate.
• Take the risk of showing vulnerability. Tell your loved ones about your greatest fears and flaws. Help them learn from failure without placing blame. Encourage them to ask “dumb” questions and voice “stupid” ideas by being willing to do so yourself.
• Be willing to trust. You can’t expect your loved ones to trust you if you don’t place your trust in them. Expect the best of them. Assume they are good, valuable people. Cherish them for who they are.

 4. Apply research on what reduces lying:

• Remind your loved ones of positive childhood memories. Studies show that people are more likely to be truthful when they think about childhood experiences. Reinforcing those memories brings them back to a time of innocence and purity, which will influence their ethical behavior.
• Help them develop a moral code. Reminding someone of a moral code, such as the Ten Commandments, has a positive effect on their honesty, researchers say. It can be even more effective to help someone develop their own personal code. In “Make Yourself Happy: Skye’s Story” (in Waking Up Happy, www.WakingUpHappyBook.com), Skye describes how she made a list of her core values–the truths she wanted to live by–and how doing so helped her learn to live an authentic life. This same exercise can be a vital first step in everyone’s resetting process. Once they’ve made their list, be sure there are copies of it close at hand for them to refer to often.
• Praise them when they act honestly, and link your praise to what it shows about their character (“You’re so trustworthy.”) On the other hand, if they act dishonestly, focus on the act, not their character.

 
FIVE ACTIONS TO PRACTICE:

1. Close your eyes, and ask yourself if you’re holding onto any hurt or bitterness about the betrayals and deceits of the past. If you are, wipe the slate clean. You can do this mentally by picturing those painful memories, and then wiping them away. Or you can actually write them down, then crumple the paper, tear it into bits, and throw it away or burn it.
2. Tell your loved ones that you’ve done the above exercise, and ask them to do the same. Tell them it’s time to start a new relationship of trust and forgiveness. Make a pact with them, using some of the strategies discussed in the keys above. Clear the air with a frank discussion in which you listen carefully to their perspectives and ideas. Plan to build on those ideas in a step-by-step way, understanding that it won’t be quick or easy but that the journey will be worthwhile.
3. Think of a resetting ritual that will be helpful as you and your loved ones start your new journey of trust. We mentioned some examples in the keys above. Other ideas: Recite a favorite quote, prayer, or affirmation. Light a candle, and say a few words. Attend a religious, spiritual, or other meaningful ceremony. Sing a song or recite a poem that has special meaning for you – or create your own song or poem of commemoration. (For more examples, see “Tap the Power of Rituals” in Waking Up Happy.) Remind yourself and your loved ones that you can’t consider it “done” after doing one ritual. You’ll want to repeat the same or similar rituals regularly, because change doesn’t happen all at once; it’s a daily process, a series of conscious steps. And trust is built through a string of decisions, repeated consistently, over time.
4. In your next conversation, notice your body language. Make sure it conveys authenticity, caring, and complete attention. Turn to face the person who’s talking, make eye contact, lean forward, and nod to show you’re listening. And then, listen. Don’t think about what you want to say or mentally frame a response. Don’t shake your head or frown even if you disagree. Open your mind and heart to understanding, especially if the speaker’s perspective is different from your own.
5. Make an active effort to break the grip of the past. When your brain is idle – when you’re doing routine things or trying to fall asleep, for example – it’s natural to ruminate about the past, going over and over it like a cow with its cud (that’s where the word “ruminate” comes from). Rumination is dangerous and destructive. If you catch yourself drifting back to past issues, tell yourself, “No! Don’t go there!” Quickly and forcefully shift your mind to something positive, something focused on the present and future rather than the past. For instance:

·         Think of something concrete and tangible. List things in your mind, such as all the things you’re thankful for, all the people you know or all your favorite books, things, or places.

·         Remind yourself that the past is gone and you’ve moved on. Create mental pictures of sweeping the slate clean, turning to a new page, pressing the “Reset” button, watching the sun rise on a fresh day of possibilities.

·         Repeat an affirmation, such as “I am building a brand-new future of forgiveness, trust, and positive change.”

As you continue to do this, the negative memories and raw emotions of the past will fade, and the positive ones will become your new reality.

 

I hope you will get in touch with your own stories, strategies, insights, and any questions you may have, as well as an answer to this question, if you’d like to reflect on it and send me your answer:

Are you willing to forgive and take the risk of trusting again? What will be your first step?

WAKING UP HAPPY: Let It Be

In study after study, meditation has been shown to enhance the brain functions needed for deep thought, innovation, wise decision-making, and concentration. It lowers blood pressure, enhances the immune system, and reduces stress.

I’m in need of all those things, so I have tried meditation many times. My heart was in the right place, but I always found myself too restless. My mind would fill with all the things I had to do. At the yoga classes I took, I would leave before the five minutes of meditation at the end, already looking forward to what was next in my day.

Even in the yoga class I taught, my mind wasn’t at rest when I led the group in guided meditation. I was figuring out how best to relax those in my class, not myself.

Then I was forced into it. Ever since college, I have always enjoyed taking part in research studies, and I signed up for one at the University of Wisconsin that aimed to see whether people who meditate have fewer colds. I qualified for the study because I always had at least one cold every year.

I must admit when I signed up I thought I would be in the control group so I wouldn’t have to meditate! But when I found that I was in the group that would be attending meditation class, I had a sneaking feeling that this was what I had really wanted all along. I had no more excuses.

I had to go to the meditation class once a week for three hours. And there were several hours a day of homework – material to read, CDs to listen to, and then the actual meditation itself.

I loved every minute of it. My friends who had told me, “You will love it. It’s not at all what you think” were so right. I liked the fact that the teacher always gave us something to reflect on while we meditated – an idea, a poem, a question –  and afterward we would break into groups and talk about our experiences and insights during the meditation time.

It has been over a year since I started taking the meditation class, and, for what it’s worth, I have not had a single cold. Now, I’m skeptical by nature, and I don’t know what the results of the study will turn out to be, so I’m not saying that taking the meditation class has cured me of colds. All I can say for sure is that I have found it worthwhile to add regular meditation and mindfulness to my life.

I have “graduated” from the class, but there is a drop-in meditation session that I sometimes attend. At a recent session, the touch-phrase of the evening was “Let It Be.” Each time we closed our eyes and let ourselves be still, we returned to that phrase. We let our bodies just be. We let our minds just be. We let our feelings be, without trying to change or judge or worry about anything.

For years, my go-to mantra has been “Let it go.” When I am stressing over something, I tell myself, “Let it go, let it go,” and sometimes I make the actual movement of holding the stressful thing in my clenched fists and then opening up my hands, flinging out my arms, and  throwing it away. It always calms me.

But in meditation class the other evening, I suddenly realized that “Let it be,” unlike “Let it go,” requires no exertion whatsoever. All that’s needed is to do nothing.

When you have a loved one who’s addicted to drugs, it’s natural to want to fix the situation, help your loved one change, make everything better. But the secret is to do the opposite – not try to fix, to change, to judge, to alter the situation – instead, to accept that what is, is. To stop fighting and, simply, to let it be. That’s what meditation can teach you.

The Keys

1.         Meditation can be as simple as doing absolutely nothing.

2.         Sometimes you need to let go of things that are holding you back. But sometimes, instead of making the effort to let things go, you can simply decide to let things be.

3.         No matter how busy or distracted you are, there’s always time for bliss.

Actions to Practice

Meditation for Multitaskers highlights the fact that you can gain the many benefits of meditation without sitting for hours on a mat murmuring mantras. You can train your brain to be more flexible, creative, reflective, and serene by adding just a few mindful exercises to your day.

Some ideas:

1.         Go outside, and take in your surroundings. Engage all your senses and accept them without labeling them pleasant or unpleasant. Slow down your internal monologue, be still for a few minutes, and merge with your environment.

2.         Punctuate your day with intentional do-nothing breaks.

3.         Practice deep breathing whenever you have a spare minute. Remember that the word “inspiration” comes from the Latin root “spirare,” breathing in. Your creativity is linked to an awareness of your breath.

4.         Get a bath pillow, some bath toys, and a jar of soap bubbles, and play in your tub. It’s as good as a spa visit.

5.         Contemplate these words by Rainer Maria Rilke:

You need not do anything

Remain sitting at your table and listen

Just wait

And you need not even wait, just become quiet and still and solitary

And the world will offer itself to you to be unmasked

It has no choice

It will roll in ecstasy at your feet.

For more exercises, take a look at WAKING UP HAPPY, www.WakingUpHappyBook.com.

Please contact me with your own stories, strategies, insights, and any questions you may have, as well as an answer to this question, if you’d like to reflect on it and send me your answer: What one thing could you add to your day to relax, calm, and center you?

WAKING UP HAPPY: Holding On, Letting Go: Like Ash on Water

In this blog post, I’d like to share the words of my friend Cecilia Farran, who lost her son to complications of alcoholism when he was 39.

I met Cecilia when I stopped in to see if she’d like to sell my book, Waking Up Happy, at her store, 43/90 North Earth Gifts, in Spring Green. She has been amazingly supportive of my work ever since.

To heal from her son’s death, Cecilia wrote a one-woman-show that she performs around the state. In it, she offers her reflections as a mother and shares the process of grief and healing following her son’s death. (For details, see www.northearth/performances/currentshows/Voices.) Recently, she wrote what she calls a “true story of letting go,” which is what I’d like to share with you now.

A SHORT STORY FROM NORTH EARTH by Cecilia Farran

It’s a sultry night and I am standing knee-deep and barefoot in the bathtub-warm waters of the Mississippi River off the shores of Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin. Above me, a giant cottonwood arches over the water with its cathedral of green. Beyond is the blue-black of the summer night, and beyond that, ten thousand times ten thousand stars pinpoint light into the velvet darkness.

Out on the wide waters, towboats ply north and south as the spears of their lights chart a way through the night. Around me, the blue-black night, the lull of crickets and the comfort of the river flowing onward to the sea.

In my hand is a clear, heavy-duty, plastic, zip-lock bag. In the bag are the ashes of my firstborn son.

I am here alone to spread his ashes on the water’s rolling flow. And, though I didn’t know it at the time, I am here to learn what motherhood is ultimately about.

I open the bag and, like a child first touching finger paint, I am tentative. I take a small pinch, hold it between my thumb and fingers, and study its gray grit.

My once child. Now ash. Only ash, yet much more, for spirit and memory live on, rendering ashes holy. I raise them. I hold them. I am afraid to let them go. Yet, I must. I must. I hesitate. And … I do.

Do you know what happens to ashes in water?

They sparkle for one brief moment and then they are gone. Gone.

Slowly I breathe. And then, like a child in the finger paint, I try another pinch. And another. And like that child, I grow more bold. I dive in. I scoop out a great handful, powder sifting through my fingers, and I toss it to the water, to the breeze.

And the breeze blows back against me. Against my skin. My lips. My tongue. I feel grit against my teeth. And my child and I are one, once again.

 

He and I there. The two of us alone as once we were. One. Communion.

And tears. My tears. And I begin to speak to whatever might hear, softly at first, and then louder, boldly forming a mantra, from I know not where, for the voice does not seem my own. I cry. I laugh. And I call out again and again:

My son, you came forth through me, and now through me as Mother, I release you. I give you back. To Her. To The One Mother: to Her Waters, which will flow out to the sea, and to the sun and air, which will take you up from the sea, and to the great clouds, which will send rain to fall and bring new green to blossom life upon Earth. To the Great Oneness. I release you now.”

I lose track of time. I am sobbing, elevated to a state beyond myself. And when I am done, and all ash is gone, I am spent.

And it is then that I know why I have come alone to the water. A lifelong dance between my child and I will never be over, for ashes, like all of life, in the end, are for the going on and for the letting go.

If you like this story, you might be tempted to hold it. You could go to the exact spot if you want. That cottonwood tree holds sentinel there. I can take you there and point: “See, there is the spot.”

You can find it if you want, but one need not find that tree nor that spot, for to hold on, one must let go. And just as ashes melt upon the water, life is not anchored in time or space, but in an ebb and flow. If you really need hold on to anything, go down to the water, sit beneath a great tree and grasp the river of life.

Cecilia Farran, owner of 43/90 North Earth Gifts in Spring Green, writes and performs as a spoken word artist. She recently performed with daughter, Celia, at the River Arts Gallery in Prairie du Sac, coupling the above true story with Celia’s original song, “Many Trees.” Visit www.celiaonline.bandcamp.com or see her new album, “For the Asking,” at 43/90 North Earth Gifts. For more information about the store, visit http://northearth.com or call 608-588-3313. This story first appeared in Natures Pathways Magazine, www.naturespathways.com

 THE KEYS

1. Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. You can let go of pain, grief, and confusion while still holding tight the memory of someone you love. The love doesn’t vanish, it transmutes into another form. The memories don’t dissolve completely, but you can reconfigure them in a way that brings peace and comfort.

 

2. Using your creativity to put form to your grief is one of the most healing things you can do. Write about it. Turn it into art, as Cecilia has done. Turn it into ritual. Cry healing tears, and then move on.

  

ACTIONS TO PRACTICE

1. Perform a letting-go ritual, either alone or with friends. (Some ideas: Let go of a habit, attitude, or relationship. Free yourself from trying to control anyone besides yourself. Release old burdens of guilt, resentment, or pain.) Say aloud and in writing what you’re giving up and why. Then rip up the paper on which it’s written to represent the fact that you’re letting go for good.

2. Create your own mantra. It can be long or short, several sentences or just one word or phrase that you can repeat whenever you want to calm yourself or focus your mind. Examples: “Om” (the sound of infinity), “Shanti” (peace), “Yes,” “I believe,” “Take it easy,” “Relax,” “Let it be.” Recite your mantra aloud or silently for several minutes, right now. Write it on a piece of paper and carry it with you to glance at throughout the day.

3. Perform one or more of the exercises described in my recent blog post, “Remaking Your Life,” which is all about dealing with grief and loss. For example: Practice deep breathing. As you inhale, imagine breathing in serenity and peace. As you exhale, breathe out anxiety and worry. Continue to lengthen your inhale and exhale, filling your lungs as you breathe in and pushing all the air from your lungs as you breathe out.

For more true stories and exercises, see Waking Up Happy (www.WakingUpHappyBook.com).

Please contact me with your own stories, strategies, insights, and any questions you may have, as well as an answer to this question, if you’d like to reflect on it and send me your answer:

Is there something in your life that you’d like to let go of? How do you plan to do so?

Waking up Happy: Remaking your Life

 

This wisdom is from Jill Muehrcke, the author of dozens of books and articles, including Waking Up Happy and the best-selling Map Use. She is the founder and editor of the international, award-winning magazine Nonprofit World (www.NonprofitWorld.org).  Jill lives in Madison where she gives talks and provides support for people who, like herself (and her daughter, granddaughter, and grandson) are rebuilding their lives after years of addiction.

 

Each month, Jill offers KEYS and ACTIONS TO PRACTICE to help keep yourself and your loved ones on the road to positive change.  Many of these stories and lessons are drawn from Jill's book, WAKING UP HAPPY: A HANDBOOK OF CHANGE WITH MEMOIRS OF RECOVERY AND HOPE (www.WakingUpHappyBook.com). 

 

I recently learned that an acquaintance of mine – an exuberant woman with an infectious smile – just lost her 33-year-old son to drugs. I don’t know the details and it’s clear she doesn’t want to talk about it. I understand why. It’s the nightmare that wakes all of us in the middle of the night, isn’t it? As a mother who came perilously close myself to losing my daughter to drugs, as well as my granddaughter and grandson – more than once – I can feel the pain viscerally.

           

I don’t want to intrude on her suffering right now, but I hope that someday she and I can talk. I think it will help us both if we do. Although I have not known the searing pain of losing a child to death, I do know about grief, and it’s something all of us must learn to confront.

           

Here’s how my granddaughter, Shyloh, describes it in WAKING UP HAPPY:

 

THE PROFILE: Learning to Grieve: Wisdom from Shyloh

 

I was reading when my phone rang shortly after midnight. It was a friend asking if my boyfriend Tim was OK. It was an odd question, so I called Tim’s mom, a woman who’d been endlessly kind to me and whom I loved like a second mom.

           

As the phone rang, I felt fear creep up. When she answered, I knew right away that I wasn’t going to like what I heard. The unusual lack of emotion in her voice sent a shiver through me.

           

And then she was saying words I couldn’t believe and couldn’t bear to hear. She’d gone into Tim’s bedroom to wake him and found him lifeless. He had died from an overdose of heroin, the same way I had almost died a few weeks earlier. I had been unbelievably lucky that I was found in time for them to bring me back even after my heart had stopped. How could it be that I had been saved but Tim had not? If I had been there – if only I had been there –

           

How could this happen to someone so smart, funny, handsome, talented and kind?  Someone with the whole world in the palm of his hand?  All I could say was, “No, no, no, no, no.”

           

During those first days after Tim’s death, I could barely speak without sobbing. The agony of those early days was like the pain of a wound when the anesthesia wears off. My heart felt cleaved in two. I’d used drugs to numb me from all kinds of pain, and now I had given up drugs, and that cushion was gone.

           

At first I put aside what everyone said about proceeding through stages of grief. I was sure it would be different for me. But I was shocked to discover that I wasn’t as unique as I liked to think. I moved through the same stages Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and others had identified years ago – denial (“It can’t be true, he can’t be gone forever”); guilt (“I should have told him I loved him more often”); anger (“It’s so unfair!”); bargaining (“I’ll do anything if only I can see him one more time”); depression (“There’s no point going on; I can’t live without him”); reconstruction (“I have to build a new life for myself somehow”); and acceptance (“He really is gone forever, and it’s time to move on.”).

           

Not that those steps happened in a tidy, linear way. My stages of grief went more like this: denial that he was gone, guilt for not being there when he died, fury at the fates, desolation and despair, certainty that I was going crazy, more guilt for all the drugs we’d done together, pleading with the universe to let me go back and redo the past, more denial that this could have happened, unbearable loneliness, extreme self-pity, wrenching guilt for having survived while he didn’t, more denial and depression, guilt for all my crying and self-indulgence when others had things worse than I did, attempts to distract myself from my grief, a bit more guilt, a crumb of acceptance that things might be OK after all, lots of guilt for even thinking about letting go of my grief, defense mechanisms like distancing myself from my pain, a horrible realization of everyone’s mortality, a nugget of forgiveness toward myself, a flitter of hope, guilt for feeling hopeful – and then the whole cycle over again but in a different order each time.

           

While my movement toward acceptance was chaotic rather than step by step, knowing about the stages of grief helped me anticipate what to expect and understand that these were natural feelings. Each time I grasped onto a piece of hope, I was able to hold onto it a little while longer.

           

I found that it helped to talk about what had happened. In addition to talking about my emotions, I wrote about them in my journal. Writing from my heart was a way of grieving, of putting my shattered self back together.

 

THREE ACTIONS TO PRACTICE

1. Start a list of some of the losses you’ve had in your life. Be sure to include losses from your early life and the loss of dreams and fantasies that have died – not only for yourself but for your loved ones. Even if your child hasn’t died from an overdose, you may have lost that child to drugs. Because addicts care only about their addictions, you may have lost the connection the two of you once shared. You may have lost the hopes you had for your child’s life. You may have lost trust in your child because of all the lies and deception that are part of an addict’s life. Add all those things to your list. Just acknowledging these losses is a kind of medicine for your soul.

 

2. Tell a friend or family member about the above exercise (and some of the other grief-related exercises in WAKING UP HAPPY). Then get together and talk about some of the things on your lists. This may sound hard, but you will be amazed at how cathartic it will be.

 

3. Do something to show your compassion for yourself and the trauma of grief you’ve endured. Don’t minimize that grief or the importance of caring for yourself. See “Self-care” in the WAKING UP HAPPY index for exercises to soothe and restore you. Some examples:

• Turn to rituals like listening to a favorite song, lighting candles, and practicing deep-breathing. As you inhale, imagine breathing in serenity and peace. As you exhale, breathe out anxiety and worry. Continue to lengthen your inhale and exhale, filling your lungs as you breathe in and pushing all the air from your lungs as you breathe out.

• Sing or chant, either alone or with a group. Or repeat a word silently to yourself (words that end in “m” or “n” will increase the relaxation response).
• Take a long, hot bath. If you like, use bath oils with calming scents such as lavender. Or light a scented candle. After your bath, lavish your body with soothing lotions.
• Dance around the house. Or take a quick walk, swim, or bike ride.
• Build some quiet time into every day. Practice just sitting still and being in the moment, taking gentle notice of your environment and your body. If a thought enters your head, label it “Thought” and return your mind to your breath and the sensations in your body, such as the feel of your feet against the floor and your fingers as they touch one another. Remind yourself that you’re an integral part of the universe, and it is important to treat yourself as you do the world around you – with respect, admiration, love, and kindness.

A short course in sorrow:

We all must learn to grieve the losses in our lives. There’s no way to avoid loss – not only of family and friends but of animal companions and of the healthy, beautiful (or relatively beautiful!) minds and bodies of our youth.

You suffer a loss every time change enters your life – even if it seems to be a good change. If your child gets a new job and moves across the country, that’s something to celebrate. But at the same time, you need to mourn the fact that you won’t see your child as often and you’ve lost something stable and comforting that has been an integral part of your life.

If you don’t grieve all the little losses when they occur, then when a really big loss comes along, it will overwhelm you because you’ll also be dealing with all the ungrieved losses that have been building up.

It sounds odd, but practicing grief by mourning these little things will help you immensely later on.

THE KEYS

Unresolved grief keeps us from making progress in our lives. Consider these keys to working through your grief:

• Keep in mind that everyone mourns differently. Do what feels right for you, on your own time table, no one else’s.
• Cry. Tears are your most healing elixir, not only emotionally but physically and spiritually. Jerry Bergman has written, "Tears are just one of many miracles which work so well that we take them for granted every day."
• Talk to counselors, therapists, and grief support groups. You need to express your emotions to people who are willing to listen endlessly and with compassion.
• Laugh. It helps to remember the funny times, and it’s not disrespectful to laugh, even after someone has died. Consider laughter a remedy as healing as tears.
• Use your creative spirit to heal yourself through music, art, and writing. Start a grief journal, and write in it each day.
• Find a spiritual haven through meditation, prayer, church services, yoga, or other practices that take you away from your ego and link you to a vast universe.  
• Be willing to be happy. While it’s essential to mourn your losses, it’s also important to let hope and joy back into your life.

Please contact me with your own stories, strategies, insights, and any questions you may have. Also, please share one item from your list of losses – either the first one you wrote down or the one that you find hardest to overcome. Name one thing you plan to do to mitigate the pain of this loss.

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