Grieving can bring us into the deepest, darkest places of our emotional existence. We can feel overwhelmed by regrets, despair, fury, hopelessness — an unending list of hurts while longing for even brief moments of comfort and slivers of joy. You may have thought of yourself as a kind person but don’t feel it now and notice how your inner distress is affecting your ability to treat others in ways that seem in line with the real you — the one you feel you have lost.
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Grief Support Groups Serving West Los Angeles, Encino and Agoura Hills
Grief Support Groups Serving West Los Angeles, Encino and Agoura Hills
Posts by Lynne Goldklang, LMFT
When there are no words
Seek the music
Go where the song is lost
Floating through the air
Perhaps you can relate to the following: You are with friends at a restaurant, glad to be away from the pain of mourning. Music is in the background, beyond your awareness until suddenly your attention is riveted as a song starts playing that was special to you and your beloved. Now you are transformed: going full throttle into grief; the pleasant time with friends fading away.
Movement is life. The ways to move are countless. You can stretch, sway, dance, get athletic — or walk.
There are many kinds of walks. One of the most enjoyable is a nature walk where you take in the world around you with all your senses, being attuned to the wonders and beauty of nature.
Walking with your grief can bring solace as well as deep feelings that are better experienced than pent up inside. It can also be a reverie of memories of your loved one you want to revisit.
Walking can be a metaphor for going forward in your life. A moment in time. One step at a time.
I took a walk, came home, and wrote a poem. Something about the cloudy sky and sprinkles of rain awakened deep feelings.
Stories have always been part of our lives. There are the fairy tales from childhood with so many different versions. People of all ages have sat around a campfire sharing stories. We listen to the news easily overwhelmed by “spin” as we try to make sense of endless commentary.
We are story tellers with a running dialogue about what happened, how we are doing and our concerns for the future. Our stories become part of our ongoing self-talk that impacts the quality of our lives. Notice the ways you relate to any of the following themes following a death of a partner. Notice the quotes from others who have gone through a deep loss.
Lynne Goldklang is a psychotherapist, writer and a grateful member of a HOPE bereavement group.
“I don’t think of all the misery but of all the beauty that remains.” — Anne Frank
Lynne Goldklang’s article, The Transformative Power Of Collateral Beauty, originally appeared one year ago. In light of the terrible fires plaguing the greater Los Angeles area, we invite you to reread her article with fresh eyes. Discovering collateral beauty has the power to soothe aching souls already dealing with grief of their own. — HOPE Connection
Many of you reading this may not only be grieving the death of a beloved person but in emotional pain if you live in Los Angeles or nearby communities where the wildfires have left death, destruction and tremendous loss. The situation is horrendous. Yet as you watch the news, there will also be stories of incredible deeds as well as mini miracles: the man who found his wedding ring in the rubble of his destroyed house, neighbors helping neighbors to evacuate, so many opening up homes to those who need a place to stay, the teen whose house was destroyed who collected needed supplies for others from all over the country, the animal rescue facility comforting and treating injured animals — hundreds of sacred acts of goodness and love.
This is the story of how I first came to appreciate the power and healing nature of these sacred acts.
The award-winning song “You’ve Got A Friend in Me” is blaring as the drama group sings out with wild enthusiasm. Flying arms reach out to as many others as possible with fist bumps. The song ends with hugs, laughter — the joy of being together. These are the Born To Act Players, a non-profit group of young adults with challenges — Down syndrome, autism, seizure disorders and more. Some of the participants have dealt with illness, surgery, death of a parent or sibling. Their lives have had times of struggle but not in this moment of togetherness.
The silence of a falling star
Lights up a purple sky
And as I wonder where you are
I’m so lonesome I could cry.
— Hank Williams Sr.
You are probably not surprised by loneliness following the death of your loved one — your dearest one in the world. Missing the person, their nearness, habits, loving ways or even not-so-loving ways, how they look, feel, sound, the touch of their skin, the illusion of never-ending days together.
When we are experiencing deep grief, our relationship with ourselves would ideally be gentle, kind, accepting. Yet that is often not the case as we bombard ourselves with expectations, overload, regrets, guilt and even shame. The presence of a negative inner companion can be our reality during times of trauma and sorrow.
Dance to a new rhythm
Whistle a new song
Toast with a new vintage
The fizz doesn’t fizz too long.
There’s only one way to make the bubbles stay
Simply travel a new highway
Dance to a new rhythm
Open a new window
Ev’ry day!
Auntie Mame — from the musical MAME.
You have probably heard the term “comfort zone” — a way of living that brings peace and harmony to your everyday life. If you have had a recent loss of a beloved, that term may feel like a long-lost memory as you grapple with intense emotional pain along with decisions and changes you did not desire. Illness, death, major crisis take you out of all that was familiar and comfortable. It is a forced journey beyond your comfort zone.