By Rev. Debbie Eisenbise, Retreat Leader
“Good grief!” When we hear this, we know that someone is incredulous or filled with consternation. We rush to the scene, offer care. It is an odd turn of phrase. It is not about grief, except insofar as grief most often comes as a shock. And we don’t deem “grief” as “good.”
Grief usually arrives at our door unexpectedly. Sometimes we see her coming down the street, and hope that she’s coming to visit someone else. But if we lock eyes with her, even from afar, we know that she will soon knock on our door. She’s not a polite guest. She barges right in, makes herself at home. She comes with too much baggage, makes a mess, and doesn’t clean up after herself. We feel unsettled by her. We don’t get anything done. We resent her and want her to go away.
In the early fall at the Dominican Center, we host “A Bottle Full of Tears” grief retreat. We gather and begin with the grief that is each of ours—loss of a job, relocation, living with a chronic condition, reproductive loss, death of a spouse or other loved one. As we share our stories, we begin to recognize that the grief visiting us is visiting others too. That the burden we feel is theirs too. Each of us is on our own journey with grief, but we are not alone.
Over the evening and day we are together, we relax a bit, begin to breathe more deeply, find ourselves. We don’t leave grief behind, but we sit beside her and ask her what she has come to teach us. We learn that our bodies, our breath, silence, and mindfulness, can ground us in the presence of grief and help us to listen to her. That creatively expressing how we are feeling, through reflection, writing, ritual, prayer and lament, we can become less angry, less resentful, and more comfortable with grief.
Poetry, metaphors, and images, all bring us to a deeper understanding of grief, and why we are unsettled each time she comes to visit. With her, we must always, each time, begin again. This is her first lesson, teaching us patience with ourselves, and to look for the gift and grace that grief offers us. One of the most helpful images for retreatants is this one:
When we stop resenting grief itself and start to notice that we can create space to relax in her presence, we find peace. We begin to see that grief comes from love and that grief and gratitude can be embraced as one.
If you are grieving: breathe, offer gratitude for your body carrying you and caring for you, allow nature to speak to you and beauty to move you, seek out others who are grieving (whatever their loss), be gentle with yourself, and journey on. Psalm 56:8 offers us this assurance and consolation, that God has kept count of our tossings, and put our tears in a bottle and kept a record of them all. God is a witness to our struggles and our grief. God is a compassionate companion offering us comfort and grace. Thanks be to God. Amen.