JASON
CLF Member, incarcerated in IL
For me, growing up in the nightmare of my childhood and the abuses I suffered, compassion was an unknown word and concept. It wasnβt until I was in a Department of Children and Family Services funded youth facility that I learned about compassion.
I learned from my therapist and his wife, who both worked there. They saw how messed up I was and how much I distrusted everyone and everything. So they both went above and beyond their responsibilities to show me how to trust, how a normal family is together (loving, supportive, caring). They showed me that itβs okay to make mistakes and that I shouldnβt have to fear severe reprisals, and how to actually start to live and not just exist. They showed me how to be human and in doing so, they taught me the meaning of compassion.
You ask what does healing feel like? As my therapist and his wife showed me their home and family life, and taught me what it means to actually live and know what a normal, loving family is supposed to be, the pain that I experienced in learning those lessons was unlike any I have experienced before or after.
I felt as if something vast and dark that had been slowly crushing and killing me was torn off by their compassion and kindness, leaving me crying with the pain of the realization of what I had been missing and what I had been so desperately searching for. It left behind a hollowness within me. Though I had been warmed by their compassion, at that time I still did not know what it meant to feel loved.
Healing, for me, has always been a painful experience. The hurts of my mind and soul have far outweighed those of my body. And for me, though it has been painful each time I have gone through a healing experience, I have come out of it wiser and more human. So, although I do not look forward to the pain it brings, I am always looking for ways to heal the scars and pains of the past.
When you lose someone you love, there are some things that are just really hard to hear: Theyβre in a better place. Time heals all wounds. I know how you feel. These are probably the three least helpful things for someone who is grieving to hear.
Maybe they are in a better place, but it doesnβt make me miss them any less. Maybe time will heal the pain of their loss, but right now it still hurts. And maybe you have felt the pain of losing another, but if you really knew how I felt, you would not say any of those things to me right now.
Thatβs how I felt when I lost my mother 21 years ago, when I lost my father six years ago, and when I lost my best friend four years ago. And I imagine thatβs how Iβll feel each and every time a loved one dies. But thereβs nothing wrong with that.
People deal with grief in different ways. Some get angry, some get sad, and some pretend that everything is all right. None of those things are the βright way,β and none are the βwrong way.β Itβs just the way we deal.
I canβt offer those grieving any great advice on how to get past the grief. And, honestly, most of them donβt want to hear it anyway. But for those who know someone who is grieving, I do have some great advice: They donβt want to hear it.
What they do want is someone they can cry with, someone whose steady presence will help them move past the anger, sorrow, pain and loss. You donβt need words for that. You donβt really need to do anything. Just be there. No words needed.
Attached media: https://web.archive.org/web/20211110180805/https://www.questformeaning.org/podcasts/20_10/04.mp3
Today: 1. Liberal Quakerism 2. Unitarian Universalist 3. Episcopal/Anglican