An Essential Tool of Grief: Lamenting

The idea of “fearless grieving” has been spinning in my mind like a well-primed top for the last week. This is dangerous because, like any analytical mind, the idea won’t let up until it comes out. It occupies me and keeps asking for attention when I don’t have the time or space to do so. Don’t tell the little one, but I have booked myself into a retreat house for two days this weekend to both plan for the fall but really to get these ideas onto paper.

I’m fascinated by what causes fear in grieving. Somewhat ironically, it seems to be similar to the experience I’ve had in the last week. The fear is often caused by unrelenting thoughts swirling after a major loss. Often, these thoughts have no answers and bring us to our knees in agony.

The Thoughts of Grief

Grieving has become a cerebral process. When I speak with people about their grief, the thing that they are trying to ignore is usually not the feeling of sadness for what has been lost. If we’re honest, while the feelings of sadness may not feel good, they can often make someone feel connected to that person/thing that was lost.

There is a beautiful book about grief, written for children, called “The Invisible String.” Here is the premise: even when we can’t see someone, we are connected to them through the invisible string of love.

The thoughts are something different. These are the things we try so hard to ignore, often damaging ourselves in the process. These are what keep us up at night.

The questions after a major loss can sound like this:

Did I do all I could do?
Is my loved one in heaven?
Can my loved one hear me?
Why did my boss really fire me?
Will my ex-husband ever know the pain he’s caused me?

Remember, grief is not just caused by the death of a loved one; there are over 40 major contributors to grief.

What’s worse, our thoughts are often not questions. Instead, they are accusations against ourselves.

The thought: You did/didn’t do ______. They died because of you. You are a bad person.

Even as I write this, I have this feeling of a boa constrictor circling me and choking me.

Can you feel it?

These are the things we are so skillfully trying to avoid by all means possible. These keep us up at night and make us feel like we are going to be overcome in anguish.

Our thoughts are not our feelings. Our thoughts are often lies.

So, here is the problem: These questions, thoughts, and accusations are in the head, but the work of grieving is done in the heart.

The Feelings of Grief

Our thoughts are often what keep us from our true feelings.

“The longest journey you will ever take is the 18 inches from your head to your heart” – Andrew Bennet

Have you heard this quote recently? It seems to be quickly becoming part of our cultural lexicon, but I’m afraid even the quote is a thought and not an action.

If we try to do the work of grief in our head, we end up being further wound up and tightened.

If we connect, instead, to the feelings of grief, we have the opportunity to get clarity on what is underneath the feelings and deliver the unsaid communications.

They can sound as simple as this:

“I miss those chats I had with my mom each day.”
“I’m so sad that I’ve lost the job that felt like it was fulfilling my purpose.”
“I feel so much anger that my husband was unfaithful.”

These are not my experiences, but my eyes are welling up with tears as I write them.

I’m no longer constricted by fear and anguish, but rather, I’m having the necessary feelings related to grief—those that were being trapped by fear-driven thoughts.

The Action of Grief: Lament

As mentioned in last week’s piece, there are societal factors that have driven a wedge between ourselves and the experience of grieving. The chasm seems so wide that it can’t possibly be overcome. How could we ever return to a “healthy” version of grieving?

Here is the answer that keeps coming up: Lament.

Surely, like me, when you read this, you’re conjuring up images of sackcloth and ashes.

When we look deeper, lamenting is calling out an injustice or an evil, to truly see it, and then to experience the feelings related to it.

Just like in grief, we often want to skip this step and jump right into fixing the problem.

Grief is not a problem to be solved. Grief is meant to be felt and not ignored.

Lamenting takes practice. We’re often so disconnected from feelings, we can even say the words of what we’re feeling and not have any emotion.

Try this:

The next time you hear/see something that you have deep feelings about, stop and experience those feelings. Maybe even go to a place that is significantly related to those feelings.
Listen to see if your brain goes immediately into fix-it mode.
Pause, tell your brain to quiet down, and experience what is in your heart.
Does the feeling surprise you?

How are you experiencing grief? Has grief become an overwhelming and all-consuming thought that you can’t let go? What would lamenting look/sound like?

When you are ready to explore, I’m here.