The Listenary

"I didn’t ask for this. I want to go back!"

"I don’t like this. I had no say in this decision. I want it reversed!"

The words of Wayne who was left behind after his favorite supervisor moved on? Maybe.

The words of Jill as she came from her mother’s womb? Likely, if she could talk.

It’s the same.

From birth to death I am required to say Good-bye in order to say Hello, I must let go in order to go on. How do I stay fluid and not decide to sandbag my life? Take a lesson from the baby.

When Jill left the womb, she popped out pleasantly and happily enough through natural childbirth. Even so her entire world was gone forever and replaced by one not so baby-friendly, in terms of temperature, moisture, sound, light, and nutrition. What gave Jill the ability to blossom rather than folding in on herself in grief? It was those available eyes, that YES-presence of her mother.

Immediately Jill found and locked in on the listening eyes of her mother, and that gave her the room to grow and blossom in a sometimes hostile environment.

I am convinced it is the same with adults in the crisis of change and loss. Though in adulthood it is often harder to find the listener, I believe it is imperative for life and thriving to do so. Here are some ways I can give myself the gift of listening in grief:

1. Set aside time to think about, or be present with, the person or thing lost.
2. Say YES, it’s ok to cry or be angry.
3. Find a friend or therapist who will listen as you talk about it.
4. Write about it in a letter or a journal.

In grief, as in stress, listening is the lost link to survival and then renewed success in life. True, the imperative here is more toward finding a good listener than toward giving listening. The way it turns around is that when I have been listened to, I can listen better. Finding a listener is the most effective event to restore my capacity to give the gift of listening.