Opinion: Christine Ruth: the holidays can aggravate grief ...

by way of Christine Ruth

It's approaching Christmas/They're chopping down trees./placing up reindeer/Singing songs of pleasure and peace/Oh, I hope I had a river I could skate away on …

I'm so challenging to tackle/I'm selfish and i'm sad./Now I've long gone and lost the optimal baby/That I've ever had./Oh, I hope I had a river I could skate away on …

— Lyrics from "River," via Joni Mitchell and James Taylor

This pain-filled lament from one of my favorite Joni Mitchell songs seize, for me, the "combined blessing" the holiday seasons can be for many of us. some of us are all in, relishing the chance to decorate, shop, bake and have beyond regular time with spouse and children — while others of us deeply desire we "had a river (we) might skate away on."

while this season's celebrations are comfortable for some, it's commonly a time of anxiousness and depression for a lot of. as the tempo grows anxious, the pressures turn into traumatic. Relationships turn into strained, and loneliness can deepen.

The cultural expectations that we have about what "makes the season jolly" regularly go away many people feeling upset, disenchanted and empty. there's an excellent in our head about what the holidays should look or consider like, and usually the changes, the transitions or losses we are grieving can make us think profoundly on my own, like we're totally "lacking the boat."

There's a e-book I've appreciated on grief called "The Empty Chair." It reminds us of the stark fact of the "empty chair" that often confronts us throughout the break season — the place dad, mom, a toddler or a accomplice used to sit. That chair, when left unacknowledged, can hang-out us and drain any which means and joy from the holidays.

In "The Empty Chair," the authors examine grief to a firestorm. some of you be aware well the fires that raged during the landscape at Yellowstone countrywide Park a few years ago. Acres and acres of lush green forests and wooded mountainsides were devoured with the aid of rampant flames, reduced to piles of blackened ashes. Deer, undergo and elk had all lost their buildings and had been left scavenging for any sign of life. The barren floor left in the back of seemed fully devoid of elegance, lifestyles or hope.

this is the landscape of grief. dying can turn the hopes and goals of our lives right into a wilderness desolate tract. We lose our bearings — the conventional routines in lifestyles that once gave us a sense of aim and joy. we can suppose exhausted, afraid and even helpless to find our direction once more. it will probably feel like loss of life has left nothing but ashes in its wake.

but there's hope. there is hope after we acknowledge the pain and share our reviews with others who're additionally struggling. there's hope after we recognize that as we go in the course of the grief (we under no circumstances recover from it) we will locate curative and a deeper sense of compassion and meaning. I believe that the divine, the universe, is all the time working, while we wait, to carry up new existence from these ashes. a brand new vigor, a brand new self, a brand new id, a brand new hope is all the time working to push through the tough, crusty ground — that we may find life once more.

Christine Ruth, M.Div, MS, LMFT, is a licensed marriage and household therapist proposing individual and couples counseling through the Niwot Counseling center.

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