Leaning In, Learning From, & Living Through Pain: Coping with Grief and Loss

(Disclosure: this blog discusses personal loss. Please be advised.)

Pain sucks. Pain is hard. Pain isn’t fun and it’s uncomfortable at best; and it’s excruciating and debilitating at worst. Especially emotional or relational pain / grief. It often slaps us in the face when least expected. Pain doesn’t send us a calendar invite or a friend request…it just shows up unannounced. Slap! We’ve all experienced it at times. And we all have our own personal experiences and ways we’ve typically handled (or not handled) pain. If we’re honest, it can kinda make sense that we often mishandle or choose not to handle pain when it comes— especially when it comes to coping with grief and loss.

For me, this time of year reminds me of some pain that has slapped me hard in the past. Twenty-two years ago my mom died after fighting various health challenges for many years. She was 51. I was 31. My oldest son was 8 months old. She got to meet him and spend a few days with us after he was born. And then two days later, she had a major stroke. She was never the same. And a few short months later, she was gone. 

And then last year at the same time, I lost my dad…rather tragically. I won’t go into too many details, but the pain was quite sudden and quite shocking. After years of not truly handling his own emotional and relational pain, physical pain and limits came these past few years. And with his world shrinking more and more, becoming less and less, my dad finally made the choice to leave. He was 73. I was 52. 

Because pain can often evoke such powerful thoughts, feelings, and memories, our natural instincts and learned reactions are often to interpret the powerful emotions and thoughts as negative or “bad”. This leads us to try to avoid them at all costs, especially when learning to cope with grief. We minimize, dismiss and distract ourselves, hoping that the pain will go away and not come back. But as necessary and normal as distracting ourselves is, the pain doesn’t go away for long and we stay stuck in this distress & distract cycle much longer than we would have hoped.

But what if the powerful emotions, thoughts, and memories tied to pain were interpreted not as something bad to avoid, but as something real to experience? What if pain was seen as something to learn from, rather than dismiss? And what if the distress connected to pain was seen as something to live through, rather than distract from? 

What if we…

Leaned into our Pain…by staying still just long enough to acknowledge that it’s there. We sit up, put our feet on the ground, take a breath, and try to accept whatever small part of reality we’re able and willing to experience. This can actually apply to ways we distract ourselves as well by beginning to lean into distractions with more intentionality, rather than falling into or tripping over the less helpful ways we often distract ourselves. These can be called “Distraction Skills”, acknowledging that distracting isn’t bad, but it’s also something that can be made even more helpful. 

For me, one small but practical way that I’ve leaned into my pain is by intentionally setting pictures of my mom and dad in places I’ll have the opportunity to see them and “sit” with them for a moment or two if and when I can. 

Learned from our Pain…by trying to give ourselves just enough space and trying to have just enough courage (even for just a moment) to ask ourselves reflective questions such as… 

“What am I feeling?

“What can I learn from this thought?”

“What deeper meaning is possibly there to better understand?

For me, one thing that I’ve learned from grief as I’ve leaned into the pain of losing my dad is that as sad as I have felt, I have also felt such gratitude and pride in the fact that I feel sadness. The sadness reminds me that as imperfect as our relationship was, we both tried. As easy as it could have been to give up, I kept texting, I kept visiting, I kept embracing as much reality as was both possible and healthy for me. I learned about healthy boundaries and healthy relationships. 

Another thing I’ve learned / realized is that our communication was very limited while my dad was alive. This again causes feelings of loss and sadness. And in that sadness, I also realized that I had an opportunity to reframe it by acknowledging the possibility that maybe our communication can in some ways, now be limitless. So I talk to him. I sing our favorite Stevie Wonder songs “with him” and for him. And of course, I talk about him to my family, especially my wife and two sons (who also have a love for Stevie Wonder). Thanks, dad.  🙂

Lived through our Pain…by continuing to put into practice more intentional distracting skills, more helpful reflective questions, and more self-compassion to meet ourselves where we are, no matter what pain is or isn’t currently affecting us. 

For me, “living through”  isn’t ever past-tense and it hasn’t happened overnight. It’s been a constant “work-in-progress” as I’ve tried to consistently lean-in and learn when and how I can. As I write this, I can attest that I’ve experienced the benefits of leaning-into and learning from my grief as I’ve tried to live through it with honesty and compassion.

If you’re navigating your own experience of pain or finding it difficult to move through grief on your own, you don’t have to do that alone. Our individual counseling services offer a space to process your experiences, develop healthier ways of coping with grief and loss, and begin moving forward with support.

And if I can do it, I know you can too.

Blog by Jason Lowe, LCPC