Friday, March 23, 2012

Transforming Grieving

Years ago, I wrote my Ph.D. thesis: "Reality Transformation in Gestalt Therapy Groups." It is based on the theory of a socially constructed reality, i.e. through social interaction and words we continuously construct our world. Reality is, according to this theory, a fluid, contextual phenomenon that shifts and reform with every encounter and every new interaction. We do a lot of mental work to maintain the illusion of continuity and one paramount reality. However, we have been doing it for so long that reality does indeed seem to exist separate from ourselves.

Occasionally the illusion of this single paramount reality breaks down. When the old order no longer works, when all our effort at patching up the illusion of continuity fail, we are forced to break with the old order and literally make a leap of faith into a new world order.

In Gestalt Therapy groups, a client slowly and fearfully lets go of familiar self-conceptions and moves to a wholly new one that is completely incompatible with the former. In order to facilitate this shift, the Gestalt therapist uses various therapeutic strategies to undermine the stability of the old mental order. When the old order is destroyed, the client is compelled, like a deer escaping a forest fire, to leap the chasm separating the old from the new. And like the deer, the leap is made with no knowledge of what is waiting on the far side.

A similar process can occur in grief. The death of someone close is one of those occasions when the continuity of the social reality breaks down and the older order no longer functions. It is both painful, disorienting and also an opportunity for profound transformation. Death, however, unlike Gestalt Therapy groups, calls into question not just our social reality, but the very reality of existence. It stops us in our tracks and nudges us to consider who we are, why we are here and what we are meant to be doing. It is an extraordinary opportunity to look within and heed our hearts. We have a choice in this time of confusion, once we get over the initial shock. We can gradually return to the everyday reality, unchanged except in circumstance and relationship, reapplying the bandaid of illusion or we can discover a whole new way of experiencing our world. Death is an opportunity to discover the mystery and magic of life.

For more about death as transformation see the documentary film series, Secrets of Life and Death. Come to a screening, respond to this blog and join the conversation.

When we are alone on a starlit night, when by chance we see the migrating birds in autumn descending on a grove of junipers to rest and eat; when we see children in a moment when they are really children, when we know love in our own hearts; or when, like the Japanese poet, Basho, we hear an old frog land in a quiet pond with a solitary splash - at such times the awakening, the turning inside out of all values, the newness, the emptiness and the purity of vision that make themselves evident, all these provide a glimpse of the cosmic dance. -- Thomas Merton

Seeds of Change

Change is an inevitable part of living yet few of us are very comfortable with this. We often exert a great deal of mental and physical effort in maintaining the myth of non-change, such as dying our hair, getting a face lift or buying a sports car in response to our aging. We are, as a social group, quite skilled at maintaining our belief in the continuity of things as they are.

When change is very great, such as the loss of a partner or a long cherished job, the myth of continuity becomes unsustainable. There is no glossing over, no magical paint that can fix our broken world. The old regime, the old order, the past is irrevocably gone. It is extremely disturbing, disorienting and downright painful. However, such change is also an opportunity for profound personal growth if one can open to it.

In the first weeks of loss, the possibility of a new order is unimaginable. On a physical level, the neural  networks in the brain, accustomed to a particular experiential reality, are now denied it. The partner who so reliably arrived every night at 6 pm does not come home. There is no warm body in bed with which to snuggle when cold and no one to wake in the morning. Each and every reminder of the loss will register as mental pain as our brain cells seek and fail to obtain the physical sensations they have come to expect. Add to this a symbolic mind capable of recalling every painful event, every cherished memory in perpetuity and the suffering can be immense.

Great loss puts us into the void, the empty place where all that previously made sense makes no sense. Nothing fits, nothing is right, nothing works. It is a very uncomfortable place  because there is no possibility of repair, no way to go back. However, in this void is the impetus for profound transformation. There are spiritual lessons to learn, new selves to discover, a deeper purpose to embrace. How does this transformation happen? Gradually and with eyes open, as we work day by day to create new hope, new meaning  and new direction for our life. When we see the process of grief within this framework of hope, as a conduit for spiritual transformation, we make a big step toward that transformation.

The film series, Secrets of Life and Death, invites us to explore the spiritual side of life and death. See listing of events in the Bay Area and links to great resources on death, caregiving, aging and grieving.

Life is like dancing. If we have a big floor, many people will dance. Some will get angry when the rhythm changes. But life is changing all the time. -- Miguel Angel Ruiz

If you can learn to accept and even welcome the endings in your life, you may find that the feeling of emptiness that initially felt uncomfortable turns into a sense of inner spaciousness that is deeply peaceful. -- Eckhart Tolle