"I Can't Get Up!"

The Window Trail at Big Bend National Park (March 2017)

You may remember the commercial, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”  This commercial touched a deep fear, helplessness.  Falling down can be very embarrassing.  In fact, it can be humiliating.  Being helpless opens up the floodgates of the reservoirs of self-doubt and vulnerability that we generally hold in check.  But there are times when events and circumstances overfill the reservoirs and we find ourselves stumbling in mind and soul.  Self-doubt and vulnerability overwhelm us. 

“I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”

Grief is one of those experiences that are likely to overwhelm out ability to cope with our insecurities and vulnerabilities.  It can be a “falling down.”  When we have come to rely on our companion who is no longer there, loneliness and isolation amplifies our vulnerability.  We look for the face that tells us we are loved and it is not there we feel alone and unwanted.  When we listen for the voice that reassures us and it has fallen silent lose too, fall silent.  When we look forward to rushing home to share some good news and find our house empty we know our lives will never be the same.  The death of our companion in life as well as the friends we rely on can leave us isolated and vulnerable. 

“I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”

Grief can also open up wounds of insecurity.  Without hope, our fears are magnified.  When we child dies we lose our hope that they offered for their and our future.  When a brother of sister dies we lose one of the few people who have known us for all or almost all of our lives.  The shared stories no longer remembered out in the world.  They are being lost.  When a mentor or spiritual companion dies we lose their wisdom and feel very alone facing the challenges of life. 

“I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”

The ad about falling sold a little device that you wore around your neck that would signal someone that you needed help.  Similar buttons are found in bank teller counters and by the cash register at convenience stores.  They are also called “panic buttons.”   This personal alarm is intended to let other folks know when you are in trouble so that they can respond and help you get back on your feet.

Unfortunately, we are not always able or willing to press that button.  It may be out of reach.  We may be too embarrassed.  We may not want to bother anyone.  We may spend our time “on the floor” beating ourselves up for being so careless and do not think about the button.  We may be so angry with the situation that we would rather stew that call for help.  Sometimes we just hurt so bad that the button is not even on the radar of possibilities at the moment.  Having a panic button and using it are equally important when we have fallen and can’t get up.

While not every “fall” demands a call to 911, there are times when we need to call for some kind of help.    We need to get a “button” and have it available.  We need to be ready to push it when the need arises.  We must be prepared to acknowledge the insecurity and vulnerability that are already part of our lives.  We must be ready to deal with the embarrassment and other feelings that will arise.   In grief, we need to prepare ourselves for pushing the button by being able to answer the questions “Who do I call?” and “When do I call them?”

Before you find yourselves in grief, I invite you to reframe your expected sadness.  Grief is like following an unknown trail through a shadowed valley.  It has boulders to climb or get around.  There are holes and the footing may be treacherous.  Your eyes may be filled with tears that make every obstacle even more dangerous.  You may feel like you are the only one on the trail.  Your grief is not because you are weak or stupid.  Grief happens to everyone.  And every trail will be different.  Insecurity and vulnerability are part of the trail of grief just like those boulders and slippery rocks.  By acknowledging them in advance we avoid being surprised when they show up while struggling to cope with our grief after losing our footing on the trail.

It is helpful to know when and what kind of help you may need. 

When do I know I need help?

The first indication you may need help is when the pain makes daily living difficult.  Grief will always involve pain.  But not all pain makes a difference in our daily living.  We all have different capacities for dealing with discomfort.  Some folks tolerate it better than others.  The question is “Does my grief interfere with my daily living?”  Does it hurt too much to face my neighbors at the mailboxes or grocery store?  Does it hurt too much to have the energy to cook a meal for myself or clean the house?  Is the pain so bad that all I want to do is sleep, using medications or drugs, if necessary?  Is the pain so unbearable that all I do is sit in my chair and feel empty and useless?  The more your pain prevents you from living your daily life, the greater need you might have for someone to help you up.

A second indication that you may need help is having a higher risk of making things worse by not getting help.  We are prone to making decisions based more on our grief than the reality of our situation,  We may sell the house too soon because we are afraid of the upkeep or payments.  We may be vulnerable to dishonest salespersons or others who prey on the vulnerable.    We may avoid taking care of our health through check-ups or taking our meds.  We may push away our family and friends and become more isolated.  When we find ourselves acting against our best interest due to our grief and increase our vulnerability and insecurity, we will more likely need someone to help us up.

A third indication that we need help is when we do not have the strength in body-mind-soul to get up on our own.  After a fall many people experience a real shock.  Physically their arms and legs do not have the strength to left them.  After a death, many also feel an emotional or mental shock that limits their ability to think or cope with their feelings.  It can also make us more open to infections and other physical ailments as well.  This shock will vary from person to person, situation to situation, and event to event.  In its mildest form it may mean that we just have to go a little slower.  In its most severe form we will become completely incapacitated and have only two choices.  We can lay there in our grief or ask for help.

Needing help is not a yes/no question.  The answer exists along a scale from no to yes with innumerable points along the way.  These points will help us to know both when and who to call for help.  I have reduced the scale to three points for both questions.

When to call?

1.     “I could get up but it really hurts.”  Give yourself some time and see if the pain eases.  If not, move to #2.

2.     “I can try to get up but I risk further injury.”  A little help would allow you to avoid making things worse.

3.     “I don’t have the strength to even try.”  You need help!  Push the button.

Who do I Call?

1.     A friend – They can help you assess and wait while you decide.

2.     A knowledgeable and trusted friend – Someone who knows you well and has been through and understands grief.

3.     A professional – If physical call 911.  If mental or emotional call your doctor and/or a Grief Specialist.

Asking for help in your grief can be embarrassing and even humiliating.  By reframing your “fall” as a natural part of your journey through the shadowed valley of loss, you may find it easier to accept the help of a friend or professional.  Prepare yourself for a difficult time dealing with your grief by knowing when and who to call when you find that you can’t get up.   And when the moment comes, be ready to push that button and call for help.  Not every call will be to 911.  But every call is vital to your well-being. 

When you fall, make the call!

Blessings,

Bob

The River of Grief

The Frio River at Garner State Park -- Fall 2016

One of the inconvenient truths about life is that change is seldom a solitary visitor.  It usually brings along a bunch of friends that all demand our energy.  Any significant change in life causes a cascade of other changes.  Moving to a new city means a change in where we shop, who we associate with, how we mow the yard, etc.  In fact, there are very few changes that are so isolated that they stand alone.  Change should almost always we spelled with an “s”.

This is especially true with the change is the loss of a close family member or friend. We not only have to deal with the cascade of accompanying changes, we have to do so while experiencing grief.  Our energy is being drained away by coping with deep feelings, walking unknown paths without your usual support, and with an unforeseen future.   And yet, we find ourselves caught in rapidly flowing events and can hear the sound of multiple waterfalls just ahead.  We will have to do something or be swept away in the river of grief.

We find ourselves struggling to focus our thoughts or energy.   There is so much to do.  We are unable to name our feelings as they wash over us in wave after wave of chaotic emotions.  Our mind fights to reason its way among the rocks of reality that we keep us in turmoil.   It would be so much easier if someone would just throw us a lifeline and pull us out of the torrent.  We would do anything that would get us out of the cold water of reality that swirls around us.

What can we do?  How do we get out of this?

We can crawl out of the water and find a warm bank.  There we will regain our balance and some measure of control over our lives.  Once we have our legs, we can find our way downstream staying close to the water.   From time to time the path may narrow and we will need to step back into the water.   But we always stay close enough to the shore to avoid being swept away.

We need to breathe.  Nothing calms the inner life better than slow, deep breathing.  We draw in the breath of life through our nose, allowing it to fill our lungs with life-giving air.  We hold it briefly as the oxygen floods our cells and absorbs the carbon dioxide.  And then we exhale through pursed lips, purging ourselves of the stale air that no longer feeds our spirit.  Breathe in.  Hold.  Breathe out.  We are in control.  We rest in the breath of life alongside our grief.

When a sense of balance has returned, we can prioritize the to do list that has been dragging us downstream.  What is absolutely essential to do now?  What will be absolutely essential later?  Of these essentials, what must we do?   What can others do?  Are there things that may not be essential but would be helpful or enjoyable?  Are there somethings that would be helpful but would be very difficult at the moment?  We give ourselves a break by sorting the essential from the non-essential, the things we must do from the things others can do, the helpful and enjoyable from the helpful but difficult.  We are finding that we cannot control of grief or the changes it brings but we do have control over how we deal with it.

Next, as we rise from our place on the river bank, we start accepting that we may feel incompetent for a while.  We are having to walk unfamiliar paths and we will make mistakes.  We must be gentle with ourselves and our mis-steps.   We may miss a due date for the water bill or bleach our favorite polo shirt.  We may forget to take out the trash or return the call from our boss.  We will trip and stumble our way along the rocky path.  We will not be able to hold every detail in our heads and will forget to look at the list as often as we should.  The distractions created by our grief will create a fog around us.  But we recognize that this is part of the journey and accept that we will make mistakes.  If we fall.  But, we will get up.

In a crisis we may need to offer and take the hand of a fried until we regain our feet.  Many, however, will let go once they have found our footing.  We need to feel that we can get through this.  Confidence and control are important to us.  But it is unfortunate when we see a rough path ahead and push away those who could walk with us and be available if we fell.  Many people will tell us to call if we need anything.  We need to make that call when a rocky trail looms ahead.   It is ok to make sure folks are there, just in case.  They will be there to pick us up after we stumble and to help us keep from stumbling in the first place.  We need to do our best to find our way but we also need to ask for and accept the help of those who care about us.

We will need to make decisions as we find our way.  But, we need to avoid making life-changing decisions when our grief is the primary factor.  We may feel the need to purge the house of everything that reminds us of our loved one.  But if this is to avoid the pain of the loss then we may regret it when the pain begins to subside and we will want to be reminded of our loved one.  We may be afraid of not being able to pay the bills with the loss of income and so rush out and sell our home for far less than it is worth.  We need protection from making decisions grounded solely in our grief.  We need to invite a trusted professional to help us with these irreversible decisions where a mistake can be very costly.  These folks may include a financial advisor, a spiritual advisor, a grief counselor, a medical doctor, and a close friend who has walked that same path and found their way to a new life. These people can help us find our way around the boulders in our path without having to wade back into the fast moving water where bad decisions are made.

As we find our way along the path, we will learn to appreciate the view.  Gradually, our new life will emerge as we pick our way among the trees, rocks, and boulders.  We will discover that we are beginning to feel more competent and less anxious about everyday decision.  The details of our new life will become the routine rather than intruders or obstacles.  We will still find ourselves in the river of grief but we will have learned that we can always go back to the shore where we can breathe and resume our new lives. 

We learn that our new lives will evolve.  It will never be the same but it is still worth living.  Hopefully any regrets will be left in the water to be carried away.  But new eyes will see the sun shining through and burning off the fog.  Color will return to our world.  Surprise and delight will arrive.  In those moments we will begin to see that our life is worth living.  It will have been reshaped by our journey along the river of grief.

Blessings,

Bob

Turtles and Skunks

Red-Earded Sliders at High Island, TX 2009

During my early training I remember being astounded at how some folks seemed to blame everyone else for their problems while others took all the blame on their own shoulders.  Some people would blame their spouse for not being able to read their mind.  Others would feel guilty when their spouse would not listen to their problems. 

One day I was sharing this with my mentor in ministry and he shared this observation.  “There are two types of folks, Turtles and Skunks.  When under stress the turtle crawls into their shell and stews in their feelings.  The skunk turns around and sprays everyone in sight with their feelings.  Neither one is better or worse.  They each have their own charms and struggles.  But turtles are turtles and skunks are skunks!”

Each of us deals with the stress of life in our own way.  This is especially true of regrets during our grief.  When we regret something we dig up the words “Should’a”  and “Could’a.” 

Turtles generally put the words “I” in front and say “I should’a.…” or “I could’a….”  Skunks prefer to use the name of someone else in front of these words of regret.   “Bill should’a.…” or “Sally could’a ….”  These regret words help us to make sense of the chaos we feel in our lives.  They help us feel that we have an explanation that holds back the confusion and despair.  If we can identify the person and experience that caused all this then we feel we have some control over the situation.  Even if we can’t go back and fix it, we might be able to find a way out of this messy grief.

Unfortunately, words of regret and blame may help us cope with our hurt in the short-term, but they seldom help us deal with long-term healing.  When we “turtle” by turning our regrets upon ourselves, we risk believing that there is nothing we can do and give up.  When we “skunk” and turn our regrets upon those we love we risk alienating ourselves from their love and support.  When we “skunk” we turn our regret upon the one we lost, our grief becomes even more intense and we risk tainting our memories of them.  Regret and blame are like candy.  A little may help us get through the day, but a steady diet leads to all kinds of problems.

In the days and weeks ahead you may find yourself experiencing regret and using the two regret words, “coulda’” or “shoulda’”.  Pay attention to who you are blaming or forcing to accept responsibility for your hurts and disappointments.  Remember, regret and blame may be part of your journey but they are not part of your destination.  Accept your “turtleness” or “skunkiness” as a part of who you are in this moment.  But remember, you can choose whether you hide in your shell or spray the world.  Regardless, do not get angry with yourself because you have regrets.  It’s called grief!

Bob Dees