Afraid to Grieve

C.S. Lewis was an Irish-born English professor who is best known for writing fiction (The Chronicles of Narnia) and Lay Christian theology (Screwtape Letters, etc.)  Following the death of his spouse in 1960, Lewis began to journal his grief.  In 1961 he published A Grief Observed that reflected the depth and breadth of his grief in the year following her death.  It was published under a pseudonym so that he could write honestly and openly about his experiences.  His experiences were so meaningful that it is said that many of his friends, not knowing that he was the author, recommended the book to him to help him with his grief.  Following his death in 1963, the book was re-published bearing his name as the author.  It became a classic telling of the story of grief.  One of the gems that shines from those pages is:

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.” ~ C.S. Lewis

In the years following Lewis’s death, the world became distracted by a misreading of Elizabeth Kübler-Ross’s book On Death and Dying.  This popularized the ill-founded notion that grief followed predictable “stages” that lead us into one another until the grief resolved.  Most people who work with the bereaved have seen through this sham and have returned to the work of the far more honest and meaningful thoughts given voice in Lewis’ little book.

For many there is nothing predictable or resolvable in the grief experience.  It is a long and lonely walk through a shadowed world.  The shadows of grief are filled opportunities for our mind to take off on a wild chase for explanations and our soul to wince with pain.  Among the companions that many experience along the way is fear.

Fear rises out of a perception of a deep threat.  This threat may present itself as a clear and present danger of pain or worse.  As far as fear is concerned, the mere perception is much more important that the reality that the danger represents.  It forces the body to prepare to fight or flee and the mind to focus almost exclusively on the identified threat.  We develop a tunnel vision that helps us deal with the threat.  Unfortunately, this makes it difficult to do a reality check on the danger.  Thus, fear tends to build on itself and overwhelm the soul of the deeply fearful.  Real or not, fear can overwhelm and consume a lifetime.

The grieving will have countless opportunities for fear to take hold.  It may begin soon after the moment of death where the survivor holds their tears in check, fearing that they will lose control and “never stop crying.”   This fear can lead to a lifetime of holding their grief in check in order to keep it from “destroying their life.”   In the process they drown in the unwept tears of their grief.  The fears can crop up when the many unwelcome changes wrought by the loss begin to accumulate.  These changes include the mundane, everyday changes in lifestyle to the deeper, more profound changes that come with losing your cheerleader, sounding board, lover, best friend, and daily companion.  The fear of a lifetime of loneliness, financial struggle, isolation, unwelcome changes to the routines of living, or the loss of an expected future all combine to foster a deep fear of the untrustworthy nature of living.  It may even lead to a loss of the faith that had always sustained us as we turn our fear into anger and distrust of our god.  As Lewis rightly observed, “Grief feels a whole lot like fear.”

Fortunately, whether these perceptions of fear are grounded in reality or not, we can learn to live with our fears. But before we get to that, I want to warn you against the obvious and dangerous trap.  It does not matter whether the threat invoking the fear is likely to occur or not.  Fear is fear and we cannot make it go away by simply thinking it through.  Some folks will try to “help” us by telling us that our fears are not real.  Frankly, no one is able to know the future that invokes fear.  We may be able to argue, after extensive analysis, that a fear is more or less likely to come true.  But when our attention is so riveted on the source of our fear, we are seldom able to step back and make an object analysis of something as subjective as fear and the unknown that evokes it.  Rationalizing away our fears may seem like an obvious way to help a friend through grief, but it seldom, if ever, works.  Rather than focusing on the object of the fear, it is far more helpful to help the person learn to find life through the fear itself.

A Few Observations on Fear and Grief

Fear, not grief, distracts us from the journey ahead through our grief.

Fear, not grief, prevents us from facing the changes that have come upon us.

Fear, not grief, prevents us from receiving the gifts that grief offers us; love, hope, comfort, remembering, comforting other who are also grieving, and many others.

Grief, not fear, will lead you through the darkness and into a new day.

Grief, not fear, will open your heart to the love of those around you.

Grief, not fear, will honor your relationship to the one you have lost and continue to welcome them into your mind and soul.

As you make your journey through your own shadowed valley, do not be surprised by the fear that may bubble up from time to time.  Recognize it for what it really is, grief.  Look beyond it and keep walking.  There are blessings in abundance awaiting you as long as you have the eyes to see them and the soul to receive them.

Blessings,

Bob