By
Elizabeth Harper Neeld,
Ph.D.
I don’t think you ever get over the loss in your heart. I think
you have to acknowledge the fact that, when you love someone and
that person is gone, you’re going to miss him or her. And that has
nothing to do with your spiritual strength or trust or even with
whether you’ve been true to your grieving. It’s a perfectly human
thing to continue to miss [someone] who has died. When
Christmastime comes, Christmas Eve, and there’s no Cliff who’s
going to walk in the door with a big sack of presents and say, ”Hi,
Mom!” I have a hard time.
But there’s no agonizing over Cliff now. There is peace and a quiet
calmness. Dean and I are comfortable with the situation. If
something beautiful happens or we’re somewhere Cliff would have
been with us, we’ll say, “Hi, Cliff, wish you could see this…how’s
it going, ol’ boy?” Something like that, but it’s not heavy.
(Excerpt from
Seven Choices by Elizabeth Harper Neeld)
We feel so bad when we are grieving that it is not a surprise when
we wonder, “How long will I have this terrible pain? Will this
suffering ever end?”
To talk about this, we need to think about two kinds of time.
There is chronos time.
This is the kind of time measured by a calendar. Chronos time is
counted in days, weeks, months, years. Chronos time describes a
continuum of past, present, and future. It is the kind of time
measured by clocks. A simple way to talk about chronos is as
physical time.
Then there is kairos time.
Kairos time refers to “the time within which personal life moves
forward.” The movement we experience as a result of moments of
awakening or realization measures Kairos time. Kairos time refers
to a deepening process that results from our paying attention to
the present moment, a process through which we are “drawn inside
the movement of our own story.” Kairos is an ordered but unmeasured
kind of time outside space-time.
We might be tempted to measure the time of our grieving in chronos
time. “Oh, it’s been a year—four seasons have passed—I should be ok
by now.” Someone may suggest, “Give yourself a few months. You’ll
feel like yourself again.” But it is not useful to measure our
grieving in chronos time. In fact, chronos time is helpful only in
that it gives us a span within which to experience our own kairos
time. To think that because a certain amount of time has passed we
should be farther along in our grieving is to set up a false
measure of how well we are going. The mere passing of days and
weeks and months and years does not within itself bring integration
of our loss.
What matters is kairos time. What insights have I had? What have I
realized? What meaning am I making of this terrible loss? We each
have our own “entelechy”—to use a term from anthropology—that means
our own “immanent force controlling and directing development.”
The amount of calendar time it takes to reach integration in our
grieving is determined by our own kairos time, through our own
entelechy. That’s why is no right or wrong amount of time an
individual should take to grieve.
All that being said, what else can we note about time and
grieving?
From my own experience and from the research I’ve done for decades
on the grieving process, I can say this: the amount of time each of
us takes to reach integration of our loss is usually longer rather
than shorter.
What do I mean by this?
That the amount of kairos time it takes each of us to reach a place
where the loss is integrated into our lives but does not dominate
our lives is longer than “the person on the street” might suggest.
Many folks around us would like for the process to be shorter
rather than longer because they are not comfortable with the whole
experience of grieving. As a society, we have cultural practices
that suggest grieving should be short. (Don’t, for instance, many
government workers get three days off when they lose a family
member?)
The good news is that healthy grieving does result, at the time
right for each of us, in an experience of integration. We take
stock and say: I am changed by our loss, and I have changed my live
as a result of my loss. And we are not shriveled permanently like a
dry stick because of our loss. We can feel alive again…probably
wiser, maybe quieter, certainly full of gratitude and a desire to
contribute from what we have been through.
And all in good time. All in good kairos time.
Related articles:
•
The Work of Grief
•
Do I Have To Cry To Grieve?
•
What 'Recovery' Will and Will Not Mean
•
The Art of Losing
Also by Elizabeth Harper Neeld:
•
What About All These Mysterious Things That Have Been Happening
Since the Death?
•
How Can We Hope When There Is No Hope?
•
What About This Thing Called 'Acceptance'?
•
What Helps When We’re Experiencing the Unthinkable
Dr. Elizabeth Harper
Neeld offers wisdom and practical insights born of personal
experience to people rebuilding their lives after suffering grief
and loss. As an internationally recognized and accomplished
consultant, advisor, and author of more than twenty books -
including
Tough Transitions
and
Seven Choices: Finding Daylight After Loss Shatters Your
World
- she is
committed to work that helps lift the human spirit.
Author's photo by Joey Bieber
Photo by tangywolf/Flickr Creative Commons