5 Stages of Grief, Plus 1

This post is the 2^nd installment of a three part series.  See the 1^st segment here: Dare Mighty Things.  Look for the 3^rd and final segment Standing Up and Living with the Fall Out. 

A young friend recently went through an abrupt and painful breakup.  Knowing my recent relationship history, we spent some time talking about the sense of loss and grief that comes from such a parting of ways.  There really is a kind of mourning that takes place in the wake of a damaged relationship (plutonic, romantic or otherwise). 

In some cases the people involved in the relationship change.  In others true colors come to the surface either over time or in the face of stress.  From time to time there is no single reason at all, and relationships end. 

Often times you miss the other person.  Even if you know (intellectually) that you are better off without XYZ – name the behavior, tendency, addiction, vice, stressor – in your life.  We yearn for the “old days” or the “good times,” even if those days are over or they were never that great in the first place.  We are, after all human and divorce, breakups, and failed friendships signal change, which is sad and scary.  So we grieve.

When dealing with grief many articulate the experience within the context of the Kubler-Ross Model or more commonly, the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.     

I’m no expert in psychology or human development, but I pay attention to people.  From my observation and personal experience the five stages are fairly universal for those who suffer loss.  We also know that the model is cyclical with certain phases repeating.  (I had a hard time getting sucked back to the anger stage.)  Recently, I’ve come to think that there should be a 6^th stage – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance….and singing! 

Maybe it’s my extroverted nature, tendency to perform, or just my Irish-side flaring up, but sometimes there’s nothing left to do but sing.   Sometimes the songs are sad but a funny/bawdy song can help flush stagnant emotions from the soul just as well.  It’s not about being mean, vengeful, or “getting back” at the ones who hurt us by their parting – rather singing helps us face, accept, and deal with trauma, while jumpstarting the process of letting go.  In other words, singing can help us heal. 

In that richest of traditions of troubadours and tavern singers I close with a song – dedicated to all our Ex-es.  To all those who have chosen the company of others over our specific company – let us celebrate our Jubilation Day.  We’re probably better off anyway.

Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers

“Jubilation Day” from the album Rare Bird Alert

Check out the rest of the album at http://www.steepcanyon.com

Dare Mighty Things

Disappointment and suffering are universal – yet most of us don’t handle it very well.  If we’re completely honest with our selves, it’s not hard to accept this to be true.  Most can’t count the number of times we’ve missed the mark, fallen short, failed.  

Who keeps scrapbooks of their failures?

And here’s where I spilled the coffee all over my boss 2 minutes before the Board meeting.  Oh, and this is where I dropped the baby on the concrete trying to hold her and unlock the car at the same time, while texting.  Let’s not forget the time when I was a pawl bearer and dropped Grandma…

These examples may seem extreme and goofy, but most of us keep a mental listing of times when we were not enough.  Whether missing a deadline at work, disappointing a parent, or being part of a failed relationship – at some point most people feel as though they have failed the test.  To make matters worse we insist on lugging around the emotional baggage of our failures.

Most of us don’t admit that, in fact, we’re pretty good at justifying our unhealthy attachment.  We can learn from the shortcomings in our past, but not at the expense of our futures.  In the early days of my divorce one of my buddies came to my house to see how I was doing.  I was a mess.  My marriage had failed.  I had failed.  I wasn’t dealing with it all that well.  Then my buddy shared this:

“Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure... than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.”   Theodore Roosevelt

There is great value in giving something your all, even if you fail.  You learn, you grow, you get better for the next time.  But then there’s one more step.  You have to dare enough to try again the next time.  I recently read a blog post entitled, “The Truth About Self Love.”  The author talked about forgiving ourselves when we fail, and taking the time to care for ourselves especially right after tragedy or disappointment. 

Failure is an opportunity to learn, but only if we dare to get back up and try our hand at greatness once again.  We owe it to ourselves to try.  To our past self, who suffered the brunt of the initial disappointment.  To our future self, who will likely benefit the most from trying again.  And to our present self, who draws healing from the work of rebuilding and daring mighty things once more.