Tag Archives: grief

Uncovering your story of loss and grief through photographs

Most of the images I use on this website are my own. The two images in my header are examples. The nature image (original uncropped version to the left) is from a time when I was in a period of deep reflection. I was dealing with a lot of pain and a sense of loss – the dream had not worked out as planned and my body was consuming my energy – the bushes that seemed dead in their dryness and grayness captured those feelings for me.

At the same time, there was this incredible vibrant green moss – a sharp contrast. In the moment of taking the photograph I resonated with that contrast. I wanted to shift how I was feeling. As I look at the image now I see my pain and feeling lost. I also see the energy of growth and potential – discovering who I was and what I was meant to do in the world. The image gave me a way to honour both.

Fast forward a few years, one spinal fusion surgery later, a new career, and my “head shot” was taken in the back yard. I was using a tripod, a remote control for my camera, and I had music playing. I was literally swaying and dancing in different locations in the backyard, taking photos as I went. The smile is genuine. I was feeling happy. (One of the many shots from that day is on the right.) While it felt rather vulnerable to be doing this craziness in the backyard – what if someone should see me?? – I loved the sense of me capturing me with renewed energy and a new sense of purpose.

Did I have all of this understanding of what these photographs mean to me in the moments they were taken? No, but I do believe there was some inner knowing I was tapping into in those moments such as the resonance with the contrast of the dryness and the vibrancy in my nature image. What I am appreciating is that I took the photographs in the first place. The ongoing gift is that I can see more and new meanings in the images as time passes, connecting with the evolution of my story.

When I look at those photographs now, they represent the walk I have been taking with my life.

The Invitation…

Take photographs. They don’t have to be of you, but they can be. They don’t have to be of other people, but they can be. Be in nature. Be in a city. Don’t worry about the ‘rule of thirds’ and composition or having anything in focus. In other words this is not about taking ‘perfect’ pictures, just take pictures. And then give yourself a little time and space to really look at them and ask about you, the photographer.

What were you feeling when you took the photo?

What are you feeling now as you ponder the photo?

What are you wanting as you look at the photo?

What else are you noticing or resonating with in the photograph and in you?

Perhaps you will connect with a sense of loss, joy, anger, despair, possibility, hope, harmony – any or all of the above. Perhaps you will connect with a sense of the passage of time and remembering. Perhaps you will connect with hurt. Perhaps with healing. Perhaps with creativity and inspiration.

The meaning of the image for you, as is the case for me and my images, comes later. So the blurry image, the whonky placement, the different lighting – any and all of that might be where you see the meaning. So I say again, it is not about taking a perfect picture, rather it is about taking pictures and then giving them some purposeful consideration.

I encourage you to be fluid with timelines. Maybe you take the picture and look at it with consideration in a week’s time, or five weeks, a year, or five years later. (I’ve done all of that.) I value that my story evolves each time I look at the photographs.

What is the story of you your photographs are telling? What if your story of loss and grief can be found in your photographs?

If this theme of grief and photography has sparked an interested, here’s a few other links to get you started on your exploration….

http://blog.sevenponds.com/soulful-expressions/artist-andy-goldsworthys-brother-suffered-the-death-of-his-beloved-wife

http://blog.sevenponds.com/professional-advice/%E2%80%A8how-does-grief-affect-the-creative-process-an-interview-with-photographer-sarah-treanor-part-one

Photo Grief: http://www.whatsyourgrief.com/resource-for-coping-with-grief/ OR http://photogrief.com/

Exploring a connection between grief and customer loyalty.

Here’s a typical customer service scenario…

You are calling to touch base with an existing, up-to-date client. Perhaps you are calling around renewal time and using that as an opportunity to both get feedback from your client and to encourage them to renew or you’re wanting to let the client know about some new service offerings. The conversation might go something like this:

Can I speak with David* please?

He’s not available.

This is Work It Gym*. We’d like to speak with David about his annual membership. When would be a good time to call?

My son David is dead.

What to do now?

The above scenario is a real example (*with names changed). In the course of the bereavement support work I do, it is not uncommon for me (and the rest of the group) to hear stories about a bereaved person’s experience with companies they have had to connect with in their time of loss.

This is a pivotal moment – Work it Gym has an opportunity to be helpful or unhelpful in how they approach this scenario.

So what did Work It Gym do? They called back weeks later and again asked for David. You can imagine that each of those calls triggered a wave of grief for the family member answering the call, reminding them of their loss. It ended up taking several calls, delivery of a death notice, and multiple family members getting involved in order to have Work It Gym stop calling and asking for David. And by the way, in one of the calls it was confirmed that there was a note on the company’s file indicating they had been told David was dead, yet the company kept asking for him. Helpful? Definitely not.

It can be a challenge for both parties involved to figure a way forward in these types of circumstances particularly because the conversations can be uncomfortable. The family is most likely in uncharted waters. It would appear Work it Gym was too, but they didn’t need to be.

Helpful can enhance loyalty

Here’s the thing, Work It Gym could have process and training in place for this type of scenario. It doesn’t have to be hard. Acknowledging the loss of the bereaved person they are speaking with is a starting point. Offering a simple approach with as few and easy steps as possible to take care of any “business” that needs to happen is the follow-up. This however requires fore-thought.

For David’s family, there was no positive feedback about their experience with Work It Gym. All of us in the support group that evening heard words to the effect “I would never ever get a membership there.”

While it is a difficult and potentially awkward scenario for all, a little compassion and an easy process to make any necessary updates to an account’s status can go a long way. From the same family, we heard about another company – one that first and foremost acknowledged the family’s loss and offered a supportive, straightforward process for closing out David’s account. All positive things were said about the company. Other family members had accounts with them already and were happy to continue doing so.

Helpful or unhelpful? A Call to Action…

I’m issuing a call to action. In your organization answer the following questions. Think of it as a continuous improvement project. Make the changes to find yourselves on the helpful side of the customer service equation in the context of grief and loss.

What is our current process around clients who die?
What needs to happen to the status of an account?
What information do we need in order to close/modify an account in the circumstances of death?
What happens to billing and/or contract fees?
What happens to the information/data we have on that client?
What happens in the context of our customer relationship management approaches? (For example what triggered the call to David in the first place? David should not be on the call list going forward.)
Are there proactive steps we want to take when we set-up a new client that would facilitate the process at time of death? (For an example Facebook has put in place a number of policies and procedures: What will happen to my account if I pass away?)
What do we want to say to the bereaved person/family we are working with?
What might ease in our approach look like from their perspective?
Overall, how can we have our administrative needs met, acknowledging that sometimes for privacy and other legal requirement things like a death notice are required, and be compassionate in our approach, acknowledging we are working with a bereaved individual?

Here’s hoping I hear more and more stories in the bereavement support groups about how helpful companies have been at a family’s time of need.

P.S. If you have a helpful company story from your own loss experience, I encourage you to share it in the comments to offer some examples of positive practices that work.

Gender and Grief: Do Men Grieve Differently?

I’ve been thinking about men a lot lately. Yes, I know, I can hear the snickers. I want to highlight that June 15 – 21 is Men’s Health Week in Canada (and other parts of the world too.) Men are under-represented in the use of health care services. I’m about to start another all gender bereavement support group and men are usually under-represented in these groups as well.

So where are the men? Maybe they don’t grieve. They are strong and non-emotional beings anyway right? Crying – forget about it!

Let’s bust open that myth right now. Men experience loss too and when any one of us loses something that matters to us, we grieve. Period. There are no gender implications. The process of grieving however will look different on each of us. Here too there are no absolutes by gender – all men do not grieve in one way just as all women do not grieve in another.

I have read research articles about men and grief. I have reflected on the experiences of the men who have come to the bereavement support groups I have facilitated. I’ve spoken with men and women about men and grief. Here are some of the themes that have emerged:

Men are expected to be emotionally strong in order to support their spouse/family/friends/colleagues. Appearing strong and attempting to not overburden others in the context of support involves hiding feelings of grief and anger. Shame is felt at showing weakness such as expressing emotions – at being vulnerable.
Men’s attachment roles are often downgraded. For example the father who has experienced the loss of a child through stillbirth. Or the son who was not the primary caregiver to his father. There can be a projection by others that these attachments matter less and therefore hurt less. He, after all, was not pregnant. He, after all, was not the one who emptied the bed pan.
Self-blame can loom large. He believes he should have done more – worked hard, spoken louder, spent more time, gotten to the hospital faster… – infinite possibilities. The voice of “if only…”

And yet – having offered these themes about men, I need to acknowledge that they can apply to women too. I have heard women speak about how they have had to be strong for their children at the death of the spouse/father. While expressing emotions seems to be more acceptable for women, there can be references to “Don’t be so dramatic,” or “You need to get over it. It is time to stop crying.” If society is more open to women expressing their emotions, there seem to be limits here too.

Women experience disenfranchised grief as well – when the loss is not recognized or acknowledged by others. Miscarriage can fall into this category. If acknowledge as a loss, some see it as insignificant, not a ‘big deal’. Friends or colleagues might express surprise at the depth of grief that is present. Job loss, as another example, can be a disenfranchised loss for either gender. You’ve lost a job – no big deal – you can get another even better one. This is an opportunity!

And I have yet to meet a griever – of any ilk – who has not dipped into self-blame in a voice of regret or a voice of “If only…”

What if its not about gender?

Some guiding principles for each and everyone of us…

My longing is that each of us can discover that place, a sweet spot, where we find some ease in our own individual experiences of grief while recognizing part of what can contribute to that ease is to hear and work with the stories and experiences of others. It is not about comparing and judging one’s grief story versus another’s, rather it is about discovering the shared resonance, the place of shared meaning in, and understanding of, the losses that have occurred.

I also long for each of us to come to an understanding of the emotions of grief where we are not shamed or made to feel a sense of constriction around expressing any emotion. Sure, we can talk about healthy and unhealthy ways to express emotions, but the underlying premise is that all emotions are valid and valuable. Some of us will explore and express those emotions verbally, some of us might do so in more physical ways, and yet others might have a quieter, less expressive process.

Lest there be any questions about why I linked health and bereavement in the first place, let me add that grieving is a normal, healthy human process. It serves a purpose and as such contributes to health – mental, physical, and spiritual.

And last, but certainly not least, it is for each of us as individuals to decide what constitutes a loss that matters. Wouldn’t it be lovely if society as a whole could embrace this and perhaps begin with an empathetic question around possible pain rather than disregarding or minimizing because there is judgement about the scale and scope of loss?

Please do not take any of this to imply that conversations about gender and grief are not warranted. More research looking at different groups and their experience of grief can continue to contribute to our broader understanding. I personally want to create safe containers for individuals to come to and process their grief. I recognize that might mean considering gender in the mix. A men’s only grief group is a valid approach. I just know that whenever I start talking about gender and grief I feel pulled to acknowledge that grief is not easy for any of us – regardless of gender, age, or culture. And while grief doesn’t have to be hard, we do feel losses. That is the core of grief.

I welcome your thoughts/comments on gender and grief.

What if..we could gracefully give ourselves time as needed in the challenges of life?

what if we could gracefully give ourselves time as needed How long does it take to grieve a loved one who has died?

How long does it take to grieve an ending relationship?

How long does it take to make a career change?

How long does it to take move and settle in to a new city?

How long does it take to have cancer?

Often language implies there is both timing and an ending to these types of challenging life scenarios.

“You’ll be better in no time!”

“Give it a week and you should be back to normal.”

“You’ve been sick/grieving/grumpy/sad for long enough now.” Likely followed by a “Get over it.”

“I imagine you can have a new job and be settled within 6 months.”

Many of our corporate policies incorporate timelines and endings as well.

Three days of bereavement leave.

Two weeks of sick leave.

Six months of extended disability leave.

A month of accommodation benefits as part of a moving allowance.

These messages have us believing we can measure and monitor the events of our lives based on some chronological, prescribed time window.

Your body, mind, and spirit have their own sense of time.

The more work I do facilitating bereavement groups, the more I appreciate that the journey of grief takes as long as it takes. One thing I know for sure – we do not “get over” or “get through” a significant loss in 3 days.

When I think of my Grandmother who died six years ago it is always bitter sweet. Seeing a cookbook on my shelf that reminds me of her – a sweet memory – is often linked with a jolt of sadness – that I can no longer call her. That burst of grief is very real and while I no longer grieve her as I once did, I’m not “over her”, I still grieve from time to time.

And healing from my spinal fusion surgery – depending on how you want to measure it 6 weeks or years. My back pain sparked a period of deep introspection and I began healing my spirit before the actual surgery. My scar healed in a matter of weeks. It took at least a year for the bones to fuse. It took many moons for my body to begin to realize that when I was invited to an event, such as going to see an art exhibit, it didn’t have to go into resistance and protection mode. It wasn’t going to hurt any more, but parts of me weren’t aligned with that yet. How long does rewiring chronic pain take?

What if we could gracefully give ourselves the time needed in the challenges of life?

There are two Greek works for time – chronos and kairos.

“Chronos is clocks, deadlines, watches, calendars, agendas, planners, schedules, beepers. Chronos is time at her worst. Chronos keeps track. …Chronos is the world’s time. Kairos is transcendence, infinity, reverence, joy, passion, love, the Sacred. Kairos is intimacy with the Real. Kairos is time at her best. …Kairos is Spirit’s time. We exist in chronos. We long for kairos. That’s our duality. Chronos requires speed so that it won’t be wasted. Kairos requires space so that it might be savored. We do in chronos. In kairos we’re allowed to be … It takes only a moment to cross over from chronos into kairos, but it does take a moment. All that kairos asks is our willingness to stop running long enough to hear the music of the spheres.”

― Sarah Ban Breathnach

While I don’t necessarily agree that chronos is time at her worst – when scheduling an appointment for example, I’m glad there is a way to represent that in quantitative time – I do believe chronos time can be counter productive. Applying a time measurement to many aspects of life can set us up to hold ourselves to a standard that is not real, rather it is arbitrary. It can also feel like trying to live to a moving target.

Tool: How about stepping into life changes, growth, and healing without strict timelines? Rather than a focus on chronos time, how about exploring kairos time? It is not about speed. It is about being human. It is about allowing. It is about alignment. It is about knowing we have arrived, when we have arrived, not by the date on the calendar.

So the next time someone tells you how to heal faster, or says “You should be over it by now,” gently let them know you are gracefully living by kairos time.

How long does healing take?

A recent ankle sprain has me working hard at speeding up my healing.

I’m told “Four to six weeks – at least – before I can begin to think about doing my regular activities.” Forget about it! One, two weeks tops! The brace? The ice? Don’t really need ’em . I can heal better and faster than any statistic. I’m a good healer!

This experience has given me the opportunity to notice my desire to speed up my healing, to put it on a timeline of my choice. A couple of observations:

Our language around healing implies there is both timing and an ending to our healing.

“You’ll be healthy in no time!”

“You’ve been sick/grieving/grumpy/sad for long enough now.” Likely followed by a “Get over it.”

Our many and varied health practitioners frequently give us timelines.

“Give it a week and you should be back to normal.”

Or they offer solutions that imply I can speed up, or at least control my healing.

If I eat the right thing…

If I do the right exercise…

If I take a pill…

If I get a good night’s sleep…

If I meditate…

If I follow these 3 easy steps, I’ll be better in no time.

Many of our policies incorporate timeline and endings as well.

Three days of bereavement leave. Two weeks of sick leave. Six months of extended disability leave.

These messages have us believing we can speed up our healing, that we can, at the very least, control it and make it happen to a certain prescribed time window.

The more work I do facilitating bereavement groups, the more I appreciate that the journey of grief – also a healing journey of sorts – takes as long as it takes. One thing I know for sure – we do not “get over” or “get through” a significant loss in 3 days. Each individual is different. Each circumstance is different. Each set of losses is different. The accompanying journey and its timing is different.

How long does it take to get over someone? (If we ever actually “get over”….)

How long does it take to make a career change?

How long does the process of cancer, spinal fusion surgery, or depression take?

Here’s where I’ve landed as I’ve explored my push to heal faster…

My ankle is going to take as long as it takes. I believe my actions have the capacity to slow down my healing, but I’m realizing they can’t speed up my healing.

I don’t think we have the power to speed up healing – your body , mind, and spirit have their own timelines . Those timelines could entail minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, or a lifetime!

I do however believe we have the power to enhance our healing.

For example our reflective practices, exercise, living life on purpose, being vulnerable, stepping into rather than away from our emotions – all of these have the potential to encourage and enliven our healing. This is in no way an exhaustive list – you have your own practices and approaches. Those may include medications, doctors, counselors, coaches, intuitive readers, or not. They may include eating certain types of food or not. Whatever your practices, I don’t believe we can control our healing, but I do believe our actions/choices can be in service of it. Perhaps a subtle, but I believe significant distinction.

Your invitation – to step into life changes, growth, and healing without strict timelines. It is not about speed. It is about being human. It is about allowing.

What if we could gracefully give ourselves the time needed for the “stuff” of life?

Catherine Hajnal

Life Fundamentals: Acknowledging pain and loss. Igniting hope and possibility.