THE GRIEFGLOW MANIFESTO: WHY THIS BLOG?

This blog finds its roots in the losses of my life and my slow, stumbling, but steady path towards healing. Of all the resources I explored when I was newly bereaved and deep in grief, the most powerful ones were those that simply shared someone else's story. The least helpful were those that either tried to fix or change me, or communicated with such mutedness and sadness they seemed to make my own sadness worse. In reacting to such times, I came up with something I called the GriefGlow manifesto, which goes as follows. I am pleased to share it and some glimpses of my journey with you. So, the GriefGlow Manifesto: Because grief is never black and white. Because healing is hard enough without coloring everything around us gray. Because we're just sad, not broken. Because we are a community, even when we feel the most alone. Because a picture is worth a thousand words when we have no words to say. Because we don't need to be changed, fixed, taught, or hurried. Because being vulnerable isn't the same as being powerless. Because our story isn't over. Because the world is as beautiful as it is painful. And because though a little bit of beauty can't change the pain today, it may help us toward healing tomorrow.



Friday, June 18, 2010

LITTLE, SIMPLE, WISE

How to Survive the Loss of a Love
In the period after I lost my parents, I found and bought some excellent books on bereavement and healing.

The problem, as I discovered, was that I couldn't focus enough to read any of them. Some of them sit on my bookshelf today, still unread. By the time I could muster enough attention to read them, I no longer urgently needed the comfort they had to give.

Much later, I came across a little book that seemed designed to accomodate that kind of difficulty. How to Survive the Loss of a Love, written by Melba Cosgrove, Harold Bloomfield, and Peter McWilliams and first published in 1976, calls itself "first aid for emotional hurt (and a little second aid too)."

Co-written by a psychiatrist, a psychologist, and a poet, it describes itself as "kindly" and "companionable," and those words are just right. Rather than lengthy prose, it offers a series of small lists, focused paragraphs, and the occasional brief poem. I can guess what you're thinking: poems? Okay, let's be honest: these are not Shakespeare's sonnets. But even as something of a poetry snob, I think they make a real contribution to the book, creating yet another easy way for readers to recognize how universal their painful feelings are. Another useful feature of How to Survive the Loss of a Love is a series of brief suggestions about tangible things to do as healing progresses. I tend to approach "to do" lists with skepticism even in subjects less challenging than grief, but these were perfectly composed--wise, gentle, and reassuring whether you do them or not.

My copy came from a thrift store, and it looks as worn and well-loved as an old teddy bear. Many of its pages are turned down at the top, mostly those relating to forgiveness and rebound relationships. As I flipped through it for the first time, I wondered what had happened to its previous owner. But I didn't wonder why they read it more than once. I read it more than once too, and I've given copies to friends experiencing difficult times, too.

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