Feeling Disturbed

During a recent Memories Day for Bereaved People, we went round the room at the beginning and end of the day to see how people were feeling.

What a privilege it was to listen as they shared their stories, and they trusted each other with the depths of their grief. They expressed things they possibly hadn't even admitted to themselves before. They said stuff out loud that they'd certainly not previously articulated of their feelings of anger, betrayal, hurt and loneliness; of their deep love for the person who had died.

It was humbling to see them move from defensive and closed to willing and open and finish the day exhausted but visibly changed. Good deep work was going on.

At the beginning of the day people arrived apprehensive and nervous and quite possibly questioning why they were even there at all. Why rake over old memories when their loved ones were no longer there? How might this possibly help them in their grieving? I got it and was not at all surprised by the words that appeared on our Memory Tree: words such as “anxious”, “worried” and “fearful”.

At the end of the day, it was encouraging to read the words that now appeared on the Tree: “peaceful”, “calm” and “hopeful” were some such words.

However, the one word that really stuck out for me was “disturbed” and it came also with the word “sorry”: a word we had said we wouldn’t use throughout the day! After all, we cannot apologise for what we are feeling, and it is important to be in that place of acceptance in our vulnerability. I was hopeful that the person who wrote this was acknowledging some deep stuff that only she can address and know that might take time and possibly involve further disruption and pain. She had been honest throughout the day and had participated in all the discussions and exercises. The good work had started and needed to continue as it does for all of us who are walking with grief.

Throughout the rest of the weekend, I couldn’t get that word out of my head. It got me thinking that “disturbed” is not the negative word it may at first seem to be. As I explored it, I realised that it is a vital ingredient to all growth and development. I’m thinking of the garden: before we plant anything new, we must dig and prepare the ground, we must pull out the stuff we don’t want to encourage the new growth, so the tender new life is nurtured and allowed to properly take root and have access to the nutrients and light it needs. If we have things already planted in the ground, we doubtless need to prune them regularly, and disturb their tendency to shoot or bolt so we can enable them to truly flourish and flower in the coming season.

It is this way with grief work: if we don’t disturb our feelings they might be prone to fester and stunt our growth. If ignored, they can become overgrown and unmanageable. However, when listened too and tended carefully, they can change us and, whilst inevitably painful, we can allow them to be a necessary and positive part of our journey toward finding hope and healing.

So, let’s all learn to listen to our feelings without apology.

I’m so grateful that word was given, as it has really helped me consider its meaning fully. It is such a helpful word in addressing grief and change. Naming this and other feelings can help validate such feelings as real and raw and vulnerable but also enables an unlocking of ourselves to the possibility of change for the better.

I’m glad honesty was a feature of the day as much as the tears and laughter. I’m so grateful that together we reached a point at the end of our day where truth was spoken and, in that, real insight and growth was possible. This is likely to be just the start of some healing work that will continue as the grief is acknowledged, seen and heard and the space is given to explore feelings safely and without judgment.

I feel truly humbled and privileged to have been a part of these tender and precious shoots of recovery and look forward to bearing witness to still more growth and flourishing.