A Wheel, Way Down In The Middle Of Despair

We descend as we grieve.
ascend as we grow,
then repeat.
And repeat. 
This rhythm, this repetition,
propels us forward.

"I had my own notion of grief.
I thought it was the sad time
that followed the death of 
someone you love.
And you had to push through it
To get to the other side.
But I'm learning there is no other side.
There is no pushing through.
But rather, 
There is absorption.
Adaptation,
Acceptance.
And grief is not something you complete,
But rather, you endure.
Grief is not a task you finish and move on.
But an element of yourself,
An alteration of your being.
A new way of seeing,
A new definition of self."

- source unknown (please let me know if you can identify the author)

As I experience my own times of profound loss and grieving, and as I witness such grieving by others, I'm aware of two kinds of responses.

One is to feel overwhelmed and overcome, to experience grief as a kind of free fall into what seems like a bottomless pit. In this mode, all we can feel is darkness and despair, and our primary impulse is to cry out in lament, much as the Biblical psalmists often do.

Another response is to try to put things into perspective, to apply whatever wisdom we can in figuring out what we can do next. We might say things to ourselves like "No experience has to go to waste in God's economy." Or, "What looks and feels terrible may also have potential for growth and renewed strength over time." In this mode we might repeat some of the wisdom of prophets, poets and preachers in scripture and elsewhere.

Which is the better way to get through our "valley of the shadow of death"? Do we choose the "up" elevator button or the one marked "down"?

Good grieving, by turn, requires times of both.

In much of the grief journey we need to be in descent, seeking to find some kind of bottom. But we can't remain stuck in that kind of Slough of Despond forever. Life has to somehow go on, go forward, move upward.

Therefore at other times we need to focus on trying to take stock, to determine what to do next, how to put one foot in front of the other and to get through yet another "one-day-at-a-time". In this mode, some kind of "next best thing" can finally emerge, hard as that may be to grasp at first.

But we shouldn't remain stuck in the crest of that ascent, either. Rather, good grief involves a repetition, a rhythm, a rotation that is much like that of a wheel. We turn, turn, turn, with seasons of descent and times of ascent. This happens over and over as life propels us forward, in spite of our initial feeling of life having just come to an abrupt end.

And when we are in the presence of another who is experiencing the trauma of loss, we need to be sensitive as to which side of that rotation they are on. If they are in descent, we need to simply provide empathy and support, and descend with them into their darkness. Only later, as they are in an an ascending mode, should we be adding words and gestures of encouragement in moving upward and forward.

When we are out of sync with others going through that cycle, we inhibit rather than help their process.