Over the past several decades, the mental health world has shifted to a heavy focus on self-care. Some of this came about for a good reason. Western culture is notoriously fast-paced, and when it existed, work-life balance barely existed. However, with the introduction of email, cell phones, and social media, this balance spiraled out of control. Suddenly the stressors of work bled into the downtime of home life, and without any balance to these things, our ability to care for ourselves well diminished to almost nothing.

While the trend toward self-care has been growing over several decades, for most of us, it became painfully obvious what we had allowed to creep in during the pandemic. What had once been simple annoyances everyone had to deal with were suddenly much more. Now we truly knew which meetings could have been emails and that running entire Fortune 500 companies from the comforts of home was possible. The imbalance between work and life had reached an unsustainable place, and families began to pull back and make long-term changes that would allow for balance to return. However, for years before the pandemic, therapy offices across the country had begun coaching clients to set better boundaries, not just at work but with anyone considered “toxic.” Now we aren’t just attempting more balance; we’re eliminating anyone from our lives who “toxically” refuses to validate our position.

With that change, self-care took a massive shift. Now, we use self-care to describe activities that are often simply selfish. For example, learning to validate one’s feelings (a legitimate self-care exercise) turned into forcing others to accept those feelings as “my truth.” When you don’t accept “my truth” as the truth, you are now “dangerous” and disposable. Folks, I don’t have my own truth. What I do have, is my story. But my story will naturally be untrue because my feelings aren’t facts. They’re feelings.

Let me give you an example. My husband and I have been married for over 13 years. A few months ago, we both decided that after 13 years and four kids, it might be time to try to really buckle down and get a little healthier. We aren’t unhealthy; we just had some habits that could be fine-tuned, including our portion sizes (5 pregnancies in 6 years will straight kill your diet control, folks). So we started just tracking our food and trying to stay in a healthy caloric range. Guess what happened. We were hungry. Often. And with that hunger came grumpiness. Suddenly we were snapping at one another constantly.

Now, I could have decided that my feelings are facts and should be validated wholly. But so could my husband. And our feelings would have conflicted. So instead, what we did was recognize that there was this outside thing influencing our feelings and telling us lies – our hunger. So we decided not to let our hunger control our feelings and to give each other tons of grace while our bodies learned this new state. And we (mostly) stopped snapping at one another.

Truth didn’t change in my hunger. But the story my feelings told did. I like to think about feeling like a thermometer. The thermometer does a critical job. It gives us information about our internal state. But never once has it told me what the cause was for my inner state when I’ve taken my temperature. Never once, when I have checked my temperature, has the thermometer read out “infection” or “flu.” It just tells me my internal temperature. The same goes for feelings. Our feelings have an essential job too. They point to things that are important to us and give us information about the internal state of our thoughts. But when we assume that our feelings are the only information that matters or even the most crucial information, we’re missing out on the actual value they bring and ignoring the most critical information – the direction of our thoughts. Our thoughts and feelings weren’t meant to be equal.

This brings me back to self-care versus soul-care. Ultimately, self-care tells me that my feelings are the most important information and encourages me to focus entirely on myself, often at the expense of others. Soul care, on the other hand, encourages me to focus on the health of my soul, which usually doesn’t feel as good, but forces my thoughts to those elevated places that move me toward better overall health (physical, mental, and spiritual). Soul care allows for growth and movement towards my long-term goals without eliminating the importance of the others with whom I do life.

Now, plenty of people out there may need to set very firm boundaries with someone who truly is a toxic influence on their life. Please know that if you have been abused, addicted, or something else that leaves you in a position to need to eliminate an unhealthy influence in your life, that is indeed soul care. On the other hand, if you have hurt feelings because someone isn’t justifying your position, that is not soul care.

So as you head into the new week, when you find your feelings creeping up in uncomfortable ways, take a moment and breathe. Then ask yourself, “are these feelings justified? Is there any other evidence that I could use for this situation? Will this matter in an hour? In a day? In a week? In a year?” Assess your feelings. Look for more information. And then set your mind on things above (Colossians 3:2).

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I hate self-help books.

Not all of them. Some are pretty good or super informative and practical. But for the most part? Blech. They’re terrible. Not only are they not all that helpful, they’re also super boring. I’ve spent the better part of my adult life investing in mental and spiritual health both for myself and others and I just hate pop psychology books or ones that are supposed to guide you through whatever emotional thing you’re facing. And here’s the really big thing about reading: research shows that non-fiction reading actually doesn’t help you relationally. But fiction? Reading fiction is associated with higher performance in social ability. Reading non-fiction was actually negatively associated with that (Mar et al, 2005).

So typically when I recommend a book in session it’s got to be a story. It doesn’t have to be fiction, but it has to have a plot. I recommend a lot of biographies or memoirs because those stories carry so much impact. They’re stories, but they really happened. And the thing is, when we start to identify with a character or person in a book, we watch them through this whole story. We watch them stumble and make terrible decisions. And then at the end of the book when they get what they wanted, we cheer for them. That helps us find empathy within ourselves – both for the people in our lives as well as for ourselves.

So anyway, sometime in the spring I got an email talking about this new musical that was going to be coming to a theater near us. I’d never heard of it and for some reason it had really piqued my curiosity so I looked into it and found that it was based on the book, The Day the World Came to Town by Jim DeFede. And the story just completely captivated me. I think I read this book in 2 sittings.

Basically, on September 11, 2001 when the terrorist attacks began here in the US, our government made a call to shut down the airspace over the US, which had never been done before in the history of aviation. But what that meant was hundreds of planes that were currently in the air had to ground somewhere. And a lot of those planes were coming to the US from other countries. Canada made the incredibly brave decision to accept most of those planes (because no one knew if there were terrorists on any of them). 38 of those planes, carrying just over 6500 passengers were diverted to a small town of just over 10,000 people in Newfoundland. From there, the people of Gander spent several days hosting the people from those planes in their community center, schools, churches, and in some cases their homes. They provided meals and clothing for the families and helped them get in touch with loved ones. They comforted and supported them as they grieved the events of that day.

I was 15 when the events transpired on that September day and I carefully followed the news for the weeks and months afterward as we began to understand what had happened. Terrorism was a completely new idea for me at the time. But sudden and dramatic loss wasn’t. Afterall, it was just under 18 months earlier when we were first introduced to mass school shootings through the Columbine High School tragedy. But in all of my news watching, I don’t recall ever hearing about Gander, Newfoundland. It instantly reminds me of the quote from Mr. Rogers, “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’”

Therapeutic Elements

So let’s be clear here – I started out with an easy one. This whole book is therapeutic. The book is wholesome and uplifting. You do read some of the harsher details of the attacks, but nearly every element of the book restores your faith in humanity.

More specifically, this book is excellent for those who are in the process of breaking out of that cloud of grief. The book bounces around from story-to-story so you don’t stay with any single family or storyline too long at a time, but it shows the face of acute grief and the people who are willing to sit with the individuals in it. I know that I was inspired to be the kind of helper I saw in the book.

I think it’s also a great take on “you never know what someone is going through”. The people of Gander could only assume they had displaced people, but no other details. You find out as you turn the pages that one family has a son who is a NYC fireman. And you pretty quickly see that the mother reacts to the kindness and comfort differently than some of the others in the story.

But here’s the short version: if you want to feel a little better about the world we live in, if you’re desperate for a story that will load you up with warm fuzzies, if you want to see the real ugly of the world being beaten back by the real beauty in it – this story is for you.

Listen guys, I’m not a professional book reviewer. You aren’t going to see books on here I don’t like in some way. I’m not trying to go out of my way and find great works simply begging to be included in the modern literary canon. I’m just going to share what I like to read and why I keep it on my shelf in my office. This book is one of those great books that just lifts you up.

If you happen to read it I’d love to hear your thoughts on it!

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There’s a great scene in the movie that kind of perfectly sums up how people should deal with grief. Westley and Buttercup are walking through the forest where all kinds of dangers are lurking around every tree trunk. Suddenly, Buttercup is completely swallowed up by quicksand. Without thinking twice, Westley grabs hold of a tree vine and swan-dives into the quicksand after her.

Look at that determination and bravery. Like I said, perfect combination of adventure and romance.

Imagine for a moment that the quicksand is grief. How many of us can say that our friends and family have dealt with our grief with this kind of fortitude? In reality, a very different image comes to mind. In the midst of our loss, sinking in the quicksand of grief, our friends and family stand safely outside the reach of the quicksand, careful not to get dirty themselves. It makes sense, really. How can they help you if they are sinking themselves? If they are careful not to that that sad on them, they’re more able and available to support you, right? It will help them “stand strong” and not show their own emotions to you, because someone grieving doesn’t need to see more sadness, right?

Wrong. The problem with grief is, it’s lonely. Grief is a totally natural process. It’s the result of having lost something or someone important to us. We can grieve nearly anything. There is nothing wrong with grief. There is nothing wrong with grieving a pet, a lost opportunity, a distant friend or acquaintance, a divorce, or anything else. Grief means it mattered. There is no counseling process to my knowledge that will ease grief outside of companionship. Relationship. That’s the cure to grief. So when our friends and family stand outside that quicksand, they keep us at least an arm’s length away from their comfort.

Grief is messy. Standing outside that quicksand may make you feel better, but it isn’t actually going to help. Shouting from a distance about this friend you know who went through something similar or that essential oil that helps with depression isn’t as helpful as your silent presence.

I’m a kid of the 90s. Nearly every movie I watched featured either quicksand or ninjas. Candidly, they both feature in my adult life with a lot less frequency than I imagined at 7 years old. I haven’t face either thus far and I’m not super disappointed about it. But as a 90s kid, I’m pretty well versed in the concept of quicksand and there’s one point that is most important – never fight back against the quicksand. Once it has its hold on you, the best thing you can do is relax and not fight it. Eventually it lets you go. The same is true of grief. You can’t find a different route through the pain. You just kind of have to lean into it until it lets you go. Sit in the sadness when you’re feeling sad and enjoy the happiness when it comes. Put on your rainboots and look around, don’t pitch a tent.

So what’s the gift of grief? Well, it’s actually two-fold. One is the knowledge that something mattered enough in your life to be worthy of grieving. That alone is a pretty phenomenal gift. Think about it. Something in your life was substantial enough to warrant a season of grieving the loss of it. The second is that when the people in your life see you grieving, make note of the Westleys in the bunch. Who stood unafraid of your sadness and stayed by your side? Who took the risk and made the swan dive into the quicksand so you wouldn’t be alone?

While 2023 for most of us is still looking fresh and clean and full of promise, there are most certainly people in our lives who are walking out the hard task of waiting for the quicksand to let them go. If that’s you, please hear that you aren’t alone. Reach out for help. If you don’t have any Westleys in your life, it may be time to look for a counselor. If you aren’t in the middle of grief, maybe look to be a Westley to someone else right now.

The post <strong><u>The Gift of Grief</u></strong> appeared first on The Haven Counseling & Therapy.

While the therapeutic relationship is certainly my priority in the day-to-day, I have always wanted to provide some small doses of therapeutic insight to those who may be on the first days of self-discovery. I’m not an expert counselor, so please don’t expect to find expert advice here. What I am is on my own journey of self-discovery both as an individual and as a counselor and this blog will serve as a tool for both of us as I flesh out some of what I am learning and some things that I often share with my clients in session. If you choose to become an individual client of mine, you’ll likely hear me speak about the things I write here with some regularity. While this blog will hopefully offer some small therapeutic tools, my hope is that it will successfully introduce people to me as an individual and counselor.

Why The Haven Counseling & Therapy?

No one tells you when you enter private practice that you won’t only be doing counseling anymore – now you’re also a CEO. And no one tells you that, if you fall in love with the private practice world, you’ll want to grow it into even more. Right now, I’m the only person working with The Haven, but my hope is that over the years this will grow into a big counseling community right here in the heart of Middle Tennessee.

As for the name, it’s born out of a passage in Psalm 107 (v1-2a,28-30).

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
             his love endures forever.

                  Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story…

            …Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,
            and he brought them out of their distress.

                  He stilled the storm to a whisper;
            the waves of the sea were hushed.

                  They were glad when it grew calm,
            and he guided them to their desired haven.

The whole psalm speaks to the terrible things the people of the Lord had endured. It talks about the hardships and struggles and the multiple touches from God where he tried to help them. Then it finally gets to verse 28 where they reach the end of their own abilities and cry out to God for help and he rescues them. Eventually the storms of life stop raging and it says that God “guided them to their desired haven”.

Counseling should be just one way that God does this. The storms of life are often too much for us. We all have an end to our own abilities. The word of God never says that he won’t give us more than we can handle. In fact, if there is one thing that seems to be clear throughout scripture, it’s that we will routinely be handed more than we can handle. God’s word simply says that he’ll help us shoulder the burden. Sometimes the people in our lives help us do that. Sometimes they just don’t have the skills. Sometimes they refuse to help us. Either way, counseling is a great tool in those seasons.

So here’s to 2023 and fresh beginnings for us all. While I’m starting this new professional venture and putting words out into the world instead of just to one person at a time sitting across the room, my hope and prayer for you is that if you’re weathering a storm you’ll cry out to the God of the universe for him to lead you to your desired haven. And if I can be of any help to you as you walk that journey, I’d love to help. Who knows, maybe The Haven Counseling & Therapy can be one of the tools you use to get to your own haven.

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