more on grief stupidity

Sometimes the dumb moves turn out for the best, because as I wrestle with the consequences of the decision, and feel the angst or pain or whatever uncomfortable emotion - I end up clarifying what is really important and what my truest, deepest self really needs. It's like the old saying, "good judgment comes from experience and experience comes from bad judgment". So I've made bad judgments, but have learned from them, hopefully without too much collateral damage. People have been remarkably kind and understanding when I have screwed up, and even though I feel bad and guilty, they've had the grace and love to allow me this error and not count it too much against me.

So, an example. Last Fall I was offered a opportunity to go back to work part time. It sounded interesting and appealed to my intellectual ego needs. I thought I could manage the family dynamics well, even considering the upcoming holidays. I had been thinking it was time to look at doing something - I thought I had done enough "soul work" and was ready for a new challenge. Well, I underestimated many things:

how much effort the holidays take, in terms of prepping, coordinating, creating a loving and familiar family holiday experience;
how much the holidays whack you on the side of the head as you realize how much life has changed due to loss, and the resulting difficulty of doing things;
oh right, that time of year coincides with the anniversary of Meagan's death (Nov 21.) and her birthday (Jan. 23) which we wanted to acknowledge with ritual and remembrance;
ohhhh right, I'm in the middle of arranging her burial plot and memorial monument;
and, ohhhhhhh right, what feeds my heart and soul now is very different than before. What seemed important pre-grief now seems not so important to me. What I do needs to sing to my heart and soul. It's not about the competitive challenge or status or achievement. It's about love and helping and support and caring, and being around kind and loving people doing good work (their own soul work or helping others).
ahem.....and I hadn't done quite as much soul work as I thought. An eight day retreat in October cracked me open and let me see how much work was left undone, and how my intellectual self was trying to assert superiority over my emotional and spiritual selves.

So I quit. And felt guilty as hell. Despite the very kind and supportive effort of my employer. It was absolutely the right thing to do, but I still felt guilt. Especially as a guy, when so much of identity - self and as perceived by others - is based on what you do, not who you are.

The passage of time is reducing the guilt, the firm is doing just fine without me. It's allowed me to take the time to really think about what is important in what I "do". Or more specifically, tap into my feelings about what will feed me.

"Moving On..."

You don't "move on". Or move forward. You move with grief. I think of it as parallel processing. The grief lessens in intensity and domination of your waking moments, although it still ebbs and flows to higher levels during random moments, holidays, and important days. But it is a constant companion. The memory of your loved one is, as another loved one described to me, "etched into your heart", and the grief associated with loss never goes away and you don't move on. If you are fortunate, that grief informs you, changes you in good ways (makes you more loving, empathetic, open, non-judgmental, etc.), helps you learn to sit with your feelings and just experience aliveness in all its forms.

A ritual

Talk therapy is good for me, and good for many guys. It's not for everyone though. Many guys when they are in talk therapy only talk about their actions, not their feelings. Action is important for me too - although I went through a phase where I confused activity with recovery.

One ritual I put in place, which the boys and I practice on important occasions, is a lovely way of remembering Meagan. We have an apple tree in our back yard. On the anniversary of her death, birthday, Mother's Day, and our wedding anniversary - we do several things:  we light a big bonfire and burn greeting cards with handwritten notes (the smoke from the burning sentiment sending our loving thoughts to the universe), and then each hang a small wind chime on the apple tree. The tree is starting to get quite a few wind chimes, and when the weather is nice and the breeze is blowing, the sound of tinkling chimes fills the backyard. And that sound helps trigger warm memories of her, and brings a smile to our faces.

As an act of love and remembrance it is also highly therapeutic. In the face of a profound loss over which we had no control, the ability to act to create a memory, especially one she would appreciate as she so loved her garden and yard, is quite calming and helpful.

Ritual

The healing power of ritual, as demonstrated by my friend Dennis Evans

Sent from my Windows 8 Phone

Meagan Memorial

I went on an 8 day retreat last Fall that was all about grief, loss, recovery, and learning tools and skills to help cope. One of the conclusions I came to was that I wanted a special place to remember and honor Meagan. Although I have a special place for her cremated remains in our home, it does not work as a safe, contained space where one can grieve. Cemeteries serve that purpose well, and after lots of looking and thinking I secured a lovely cremation burial plot at Lake View Cemetery on Capitol Hill here in Seattle. It looks east, with views of the Cascades, Mt. Baker, and our home in Laurelhurst.

But how to mark the spot? Fortunately I came across an artist and designer of monuments who works in fused glass. We have come up with a fantastic design for a monument which is unique and quite fitting for Meagan. It won't be finished until probably around May. I'l have it installed, then a simple ceremony to inter her ashes at the site. I'll definitely let everyone know when it's complete, and will do a party to celebrate. But I'll not provide any directions to the actual location of the burial plot. The monument itself will be quite distinctive and anyone going to the cemetery will be able to find it quite easily if they know anything at all about Meagan.

I'll write more later about the importance of ritual in my grief process. Especially for guys, physical acts are important. I do grief support and group therapy. But it's not for every guy. I'm looking forward to the ritual of visiting her gravesite, and remembering her, honoring her, and grieving.