Reflection

Yesterday, I planned to put in several hours of work, but I didn't do a LICK of work. Instead, I caught up on blogs, fed my animals (the outside, wild variety), spent time with the bearded eye-roller, talked to both of my sons on the phone, surfed e-bay (found a great rug!), watched a movie (more about that movie in another post), and generally goofed off all day.

Last night I was really, really crabby but couldn't put my finger on why. Eventually I figured it out though. It was because I hadn't worked that day. I hadn't accomplished anything (weeding my garden, cleaning my house, working on WORK, etc.) and it made me really upset.

I "WASTED" a whole friggin' day.

As I sit here preparing myself to dig into work, I'm angry that my mind works this way. I enjoyed every single thing that I did yesterday, and most normal people would consider that a great day.

I'm not normal.

I read an article the other day about Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder (OCPD - different from OCD) and boy, did it touch a few nerves. Not just a few, actually. From what I understand, OCD is more ritualistic in nature (washing hands several times a day, checking the stove, checking the locks, etc.) OCPD is more conceptual.

I felt as if I were reading about myself. I've joked that I have OCD here on my blog because of my incessant need for a spotless, clutter-free environment, but this article made me wonder if OCPD is the root of other issues.

You know, issues like not being able to just R-E-L-A-X.

I found this online. I'll line through the things that don't apply to me:

Diagnostic Criteria

A pervasive pattern of preoccupation with orderliness, perfectionism, and mental and interpersonal control, at the expense of flexibility, openness, and efficiency, beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by four (or more) of the following:

1. is preoccupied with details, rules, lists, order, organization, or schedules to the extent that the major point of the activity is lost


2. shows perfectionism that interferes with task completion (e.g., is unable to complete a project because his or her own overly strict standards are not met)


3. is excessively devoted to work and productivity to the exclusion of leisure activities and friendships (not accounted for by obvious economic necessity)


4. is overconscientious, scrupulous, and inflexible about matters of morality, ethics, or values (not accounted for by cultural or religious identification)


5. is unable to discard worn-out or worthless objects even when they have no sentimental value (quite the opposite, actually- I toss things that I shouldn't because I don't like clutter)


6. is reluctant to delegate tasks or to work with others unless they submit to exactly his or her way of doing things


7. adopts a miserly spending style toward both self and others; money is viewed as something to be hoarded for future catastrophes


8. shows rigidity and stubbornness

Admitting it is the first step, right? I think I'm going to look into this a little bit more. Well, after I put in a few hours of work *snort*

Stay tuned, we may be adding another category to this blog.

Last night, the bearded eye-roller and I were sitting on the back porch talking.

Gee- I could pretty much write that sentence every day, couldn't I?

Anyhoo- while usually we're out there yacking for at least an hour, some days we're out there until we can't see each other because it's so dark. Last night was one of those kinds of evenings. Judging by the clock, we were out there talking for just over three hours.

Somehow (don't ask me how!), the conversation spun around to "if I were to build a shrine for you after you died, what do you suppose would be in the shrine?"

Believe it or not, BER started this topic. He has seen some 'shrineish' things created after a loved one passed on such as a glass cabinet with mementos of that person (like their favorite boots, etc)

I know he has no intention of building a glass cabinet to fill with RisibleGirl items, fascinating as it might be....

Playing along, I told him that I really don't have anything that could go in a shrine that would really represent me very well. I think of myself as more of a conceptual person. You can't very well take my passions and turn them into something physical. The only 'thing' I have would be my wedding ring. Maybe a printed out copy of my blog- because as I've written here before, this blog is 100% authentic *ME*.

My 'stuff' is bigger than something you can put in a glass cabinet. The 'things' that represent me are more spiritual in nature. Mostly it's just plain ol' love and beauty Not *MY* physical beauty (even though... ha ha), but the beautiful things that I appreciate, like my garden and the beautiful hiking trails around here, and music.

So we thought about it some more and I said, well, maybe it'd be interesting to do a collage- kind of like the one we did in Hospice. Only, do it now.

If we had a gazillion magazines, it'd be really fun to do. Maybe I'll borrow some from Fearless Leader.

We started imagining the things each other might pick out to put in the collage. I imagine mine would have some sort of representation of the love for my sons, something to do with flowers and vines, something to do with music, something about helping someone who is down (physically or mentally).

BER imagined that his would have something to do with wheat (he spent many summers cutting wheat in Oklahoma), corvettes, technology, and wine (his hobby).

The thing is? The whole idea of the collage is to just flip through magazines and cut it out if it 'speaks' to you, rather than go looking for particular items. So, mine and his may very well be similar to what we've described for ourselves- but then again, it could be something totally different.

The more I think about it, the better I like the idea of doing this.

What do you think would be on your collage? And, if you have a partner (or have one that has passed on), what would be on theirs? Feel free to do this on your blog and then send me the link in your comments. I'm truly interested.

We are now at the half-way mark. It hardly seems possible that we only have four more weeks together.

I'm so happy to report many positive things. First, the only person missing from group tonight was "Apple". It was such a relief to see the other three walk in the door. You could tell that the couple was nervous, probably making them even more nervous was seeing a security guard at the door for the first time.

All of this was quickly forgotten and we soon got down to the exercise of the evening.

We worked on grief collages tonight. I did this exercise in training when I first transferred to this Hospice. A lot the things it brought out from my noggin, surprised me.

Turns out that this exercise had the same effect on the people in my group. The pictures or words that jumped out to them in the magazines, became something very meaningful when put together on a poster-sized piece of paper.

All of the sharing was quite touching, but one in particular gave me goosebumps.

Everyone in the group had several cut-outs in their collage- some up to 30 pictures or words. This person, in his late 60's, only had one picture. It was of an older couple sharing a gentle kiss and a simple poem about sharing your life with another person. I wish I'd of written it down, because it was truly touching.

As wonderful as this evening was, I think the best part was that I was able to be present with my group, yet able to leave the pain and sadness there. I came home and kissed my sweet husband.

I kissed him several times, actually, if you must know.

And then, I went on to live my own life.

Yup, this is going to be just fine.

• Roy Schafer: “Empathy involves the inner experience of sharing in and comprehending the momentary psychological state of another person”


• R. R. Greenson: “To empathize means to share, to experience the feelings of another person.”

According to Wikipedia:

Empathy is one's ability to recognize and understand the emotion of another. As the states of mind, beliefs, and desires of others are intertwined with their emotions, one with empathy for another may often be able to more effectively divine another's modes of thought and mood. Empathy is often characterized as the ability to "put oneself into another's shoes", or experiencing the outlook or emotions of another being within oneself, a sort of emotional resonance.

I've been thinking quite a bit over the past few days about the effect last Thursday's grief support group had on me. I ended up staying up until 3:30 a.m. because every time I went to bed and heard my husband breathe, I'd start crying. I didn't want to wake him, so I'd get back out of bed and go downstairs and turn on the TV. I cried because I kept seeing the images in my head of how my group's spouses died- and I kept internalizing it. I became overwhelmed with grief and fear about something that has never happened to me.

I've always had high levels of empathy. In almost every situation- happy or sad-, I ask myself, "how would I feel if I were in that persons shoes?" and then I *feel* it. I cry for people that I do not know because I can literally feel their pain. Alternately, I also feel joy for people. So there are good and not so good aspects to having high levels of empathy.

I think it's that very thing- empathy; that is at the root of last Thursday's inability to shake off the meeting. I still felt a little shell-shocked on Friday, even to the point that I wasn't fully present at a family gathering. I kept drifting off into another place. A bad place. Empathy- the thing that makes me such a crusader for those who are less fortunate, will also be my downfall if I do not learn to reign it in.

I do not want to ever lose my capacity for empathy, but I also do not want to be affected so much that I cannot sleep, or focus on anything else.

I was given a gift of having a 'comforting presence'. I've been told this from too many people to deny it. I believe it's a duty to share your gifts with others and this is why I volunteer for Hospice. I knew that was where I belonged some five years ago, and I am just as certain of it today, so I refuse to quit this work.

Instead, I need to work very hard on finding a middle-ground. A place where I'll feel that I'm still providing comfort, but not taking on the other person's problem/feelings/etc. as my own. To be truly empathetic, I still need to take it on temporarily, but then I need to give it back once I'm no longer in that person's presence.

I have some studying to do, I think. I'm not going to share this with Fearless Leader just yet. Perhaps last Thursday was an extraordinary experience and the following weeks will be less 'graphic' for me. If I find that I'm unable to sleep after next week's session, then it will be time to call in the Calvary (Fearless Leader).

I have a lot of jumbled thoughts swirling around in my head, so I'm not sure if this post will have any sort of rhyme or reason. Tonight was the first night I've felt a need to truly release the energy from the support group before going to bed.

The previous two weeks were merely warm-up sessions to what I've experienced tonight, and *NOW* I know what Fearless Leader was talking about when she said I needed to prepare for walking into a very dark place on Thursday evenings.

Tonight was the night that we asked people to bring in pictures of their loved one and share their story. I've put a lot of energy over the past two days in preparing myself for what people would say, or how I'd feel if I heard 'this'. In the end, I learned that I've prepared myself for all the wrong things.

I was prepared, in that I knew how each person died. I also felt that I knew how the members of my group would react while telling their stories. For the most part, I was right about their reactions- except for one person. And it had less to do with the telling of his story, and more to do with the empathy he showed for the other members of the group.

The past two weeks, this man has made every effort to 'prove' that he "started his day with a positive attitude"; was happy and optimistic, didn't feel 'sorry' for himself, etc. I've been somewhat frustrated with him and I wondered what he was doing attending group if he was so 'together'. It made me feel uncomfortable that he was expressing these things around the rest of the people in group who were clearly grieving.

Tonight, I met a very different man. He shared his story, mostly with the bravado I'd come to expect. There were bits and pieces of sentiment while he shared, but for the most part it was what I expected. The next story came from one of my favorites in the group. He's a little old man that I want to put in my back pocket and take home. He's simply adorable.

This sweet old man started weeping when he shared his story and it was truly heart-wrenching. The man with the 'facade' started gently rubbing this little old mans back while he wept. It truly was all I could do to not break down at that moment. But being the facilitator, that would not have been very good.

After everyone shared their stories, we took a 15 minute break and then came back to the table. What was most interesting, was that almost everyone gave even more details about their stories after break. Some of the details about the deaths were quite graphic, and I'm still having a hard time shaking the images from my mind.

The most telling thing was from the man with the facade. One of the group members talked about not being able to get 'rid' of her husband's things. Most everyone at the table agreed that they couldn't part with their spouse's things, with one person even saying that her husband's glasses are exactly where they were when he died one year ago.

The man with the facade then listed the items that he keeps on his bedside table, which told me a lot about this man. Now I can look past the facade and see a man who is grieving just like everyone else in the group. He just doesn't know how to show it.

The grief support group is actually three groups that meet together in the beginning, split up into three groups in the middle, then meet again at the end of the evening. After each person told their story in the individual groups, they placed the picture of their loved one on a table in the middle of the conference room. When we all got back together as one group, Fearless Leader asked that we have a moment of silence to honor all of the loved ones at that center table. This is when I could no longer hold back my tears.

In the silence, I thought about the faces in the pictures and how each person was someone who was very loved and is no longer here. I thought about the fact that these people were only represented by one person in the room- but there were many more people on this earth that grieved their death.

It hit me like a ton of bricks.

Fearless Leader referred to the table, holding pictures of these loved ones, as "the sacred space"- and it truly was. There was a lot of reverence in that moment of silence.

After group, we (the facilitators) gathered together and talked about our experiences of the night. I think I'll write about that in another post, because this is getting very long and it's very late in the evening. We ended up talking for more than an hour, because there was much to be shared.

My group knows that I've not lost a parent, a spouse or a child. Interestingly enough, I was asked by a member of the group tonight if I felt that this was a good 'learning ground' for when I lose someone close to me. I replied, "No". I further explained that I don't think anyone can ever prepare for losing someone that they love and everyone grieves differently.

I wouldn't begin to presume that I'd ever be prepared to lose someone that I love, but this experience has made me more aware of how important it is to express how I feel to people that I love.

On the way home, I popped in a copy of the CD I made for the bearded eye-roller. It is a CD of love songs I made for him when I was missing him during one of his business trips, just over a year ago. While listening to the music, I was overcome with gratitude that my husband was home waiting for me tonight.

I hope I never take that for granted.