If you've read more than a few of my posts, you've probably noticed that conversations inspire the topics more often than not. Today is no different because a simple question has been rattling around in my mind since my conversant asked it:
How do you do... this?
This meant grief coaching and the deeper implications were: How can you handle it? Isn't it upsetting? Why would you put yourself through the initial pain of loss all over again by working with those in the thick of it?
I've asked these very things of myself since I first considered grief work. Would I really be able to handle seeing someone hurting so badly? And, why would I want to? Would it mean having to turn totally cold? Or would it mean opening up myself to such sadness that it takes me time to recover?
To be able to grief coach, it's crucially important to understand profound loss. I worked briefly with a grief counselor who was happily married and who had not yet experienced close, personal loss. And while of course I'm thankful for her that she didn't know what this all felt like, that was a bit of a problem. She tried to help me embrace my journey by asking me why I didn't want to be crying all the time, and that highlighted the disconnect. Why didn't I want to cry all the time? Because it SUCKS, that's why! And I don't know if it's possible to truly understand the level of suck unless you've been there.
I guess that's more of the why than the how. When I was in those early days, I wanted to connect with anyone at all who got what I was feeling. And while I can't now be fully in my clients's heads and hearts, they express their pain in ways that resound so deeply that I get it.
Grief work takes a lot of self-work first. I needed to be very clear on what I could handle. I initially wanted to make this my only job but quickly understood how incredibly difficult that would be. So, I now allow a lot of time between clients and never see more than one in a day. It's not possible to be my only source of income but that's because I need to be fully present for each one. I can't be if I'm too drained and that's relevant to anyone who wants to support friends through loss and grief.
Before I work with clients, I spend a long time clearing out my own thoughts and letting go of my day. Our sessions aren't about me and if I come in still tangled up in my own thoughts and experiences, I'll be working through my stuff and not theirs. Relating is one thing; making it about me is another.
That's also how to not internalize the pain. It's not my pain - it's theirs. I can want to jump through the screen to hug them but that wouldn't take away the pain either. I can provide a safe space to cry and rage against the heavens - if you can't do that in grief coaching, where can you? - and make sure it's without judgement.
Finally, it's important to not become part of their story. The client is relating what they think and they feel, but through their own lens. It's their truth. There may be plenty of other truths and part of my job is to help them explore truths that may help alleviate guilt, anger, whatever. While I can help them change their story, it's not my story and that's a crucial delineation.
So, how do I do this? Carefully and mindfully, and with the understanding that it's something we all can do if we think about that how.
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