Category: Holidays

Constructing Reality & Healing From Grief

In Finding Community, Holidays, Our Narratives, Resilience, This is Life

This time of year often makes our pre-existing pains loom larger, sometimes to the point of feeling overwhelmed by sadness. If you’ve been “dealing with grief” in the usual ways (you know, “the 5 Stages of Grief” etc…) — Now is the time to upgrade your tools.

Did you know that the person who came up with those “5 Stages” was really talking about the experience for the dying, and not what it’s like to be a grieving survivor? It’s yet another example of how our consumer society took a complex psychological topic and over-simplified it to the point of not just being off-track but even destructive.

How many people have talked with me about feeling like they ‘must be broken’ because those “5 Stages” don’t seem to happen in order, or come along at all, or feel never-ending…

If you’ve lost loved ones, you know that Grief Does NOT End. But how do we keep going if that’s true (and it is…)?

First, above all, remain open to new ideas about Grieving. Even “experts” are simply humans who have made the time and paid the prices to study something a lot. Not just regarding Grief, but virtually all psychological ideas should be held lightly with a dose of skepticism, even when they ring true to our minds. Just give it all another decade or two, and you’ll see how new thoughts shift research, and vice versa.

Next, as for grieving itself, try this up-and-coming perspective: Grief is a lifelong process that changes shape over time and can enrich our lives.

You can read part of Hope Edelman’s book “The AfterGrief” here, but I also really recommend listening to the interview with her recorded in 2020. (It’s only 10 minutes long!)

More than simply a rote list of how-to-heal tips, Edelman explains how the concept of “Grief” was created and changed by society and culture – and how that then impacts those of us who are grieving and our expectations.

Edelman proposes that there only 2 “stages of grief”: “…the one where you feel really bad, and the one where you start feeling better.” She calls this second stage “the AfterGrief,” saying it extends for the rest of our lives.

Her work here is an excellent example of social constructionist psychology, a theoretical perspective that heavily informs my own psychotherapy practice.

If you’d like to dive a bit deeper into the social construction of grieving, here’s a 20-minute long interview on HealGrief.org with Robert Neimeyer PhD, director of the Portland Institute for Loss and Transition and someone at the forefront of re-shaping our understanding of grief and meaning.

Importantly, all students of grief and grieving agree that it is best done with others. Whether that’s a formal or informal group of peers, psychotherapy, or simply a personal confidante or two, the human species is wired to connect to others in our temporary existence.

Here’s to achieving post-loss growth and deepening peace, for all.

Parents & Emotions: Keep a lid on it, or let it out?

In Children, Holidays, Parenting, Resilience, This is Life, Uncategorized

Raising young humans is always, without a doubt, an emotionally challenging job. It’s been my experience that most parents hope to do at least a few things differently than they recall from their own childhood. When you add to those normal challenges a parent’s strong desire to be better at the job, the pressure can feel overwhelming. Even the best parents aren’t perfect.

And in spite of all the eye-poppingly negative news out there, one really positive trend has been the upswing in understanding about human emotions. (I know, it seems like the topic of human emotions would be so basic that we’d be done learning anything new, but…) What’s more important to teach the kids — free expression or self-control? Is it better to convey a constant sense of calm perfection to them or should they see how you struggle in life as an adult? So many questions! A recent study offers us some insight into how emotional expression or suppression plays a role in children’s well-being.

This article about the study, conducted at Washington State University, is a quick read. It explains the balance that parents need to find between keeping a lid on emotions and coming unglued — in front of the kids. The researchers talk about “emotional residue” — a ‘feeling’ that kids ‘pick up’ from stoic parents who are often sending confusing mixed messages.

The bottom line advice: Let children see how conflicts are handled, from beginning to end, including the related emotions. This is how they’ll learn to handle conflict in their own lives.

The ongoing challenge: Doing the above well requires parents improve their own “EQ” (emotional intelligence), so they’re better able to recognize, understand, express, and settle their own emotions. But that’s for a different blogpost…

See WSU Insider, https://news.wsu.edu/2018/11/26/emotional-suppression-has-negative-outcomes-on-children/

Karnilowicz, H. R., Waters, S. F., & Mendes, W. B. (2018). Not in front of the kids: Effects of parental suppression on socialization behaviors during cooperative parent–child interactions. Emotion. Advance online publication.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1037/emo0000527

Meditation for Regular People

In Holidays, Meditation, Self Care, Self Help, Uncategorized

I’m excited to finally be offering meditation classes. But wait, I hear “What do you mean by ‘regular people’??”

I’ve often recommended meditation to clients. And many have let me know that they think meditation might be just great — for someone else. The thought most often expressed: “I can’t make my mind be quiet.”
I hear this so often, it’s like the only people who manage to quiet their mind are Super Special, maybe monks or nuns or priests…

I get it.
I started my meditation journey more than 20 years ago, and I’m clear that it’s not easy. It’s like exercising a muscle you’ve never used before… not easy at first, and might even feel a little sore, but if you stick with it, little by little… you end up with a stronger muscle and greater ease.

That’s kind of the point of meditation: a stronger mind and greater sense of ease.
So — my saying “regular people” is just a nod to this: You don’t have to be Somehow Special in order to benefit from meditating. You just have to stick with it.

This class will cover a lot of ground in a little time:

Each session is only ½ hour long
(but I ask participants to arrive 10 minutes early, so 40 minutes total.)
You will not be meditating during that whole time!

We’ll cover a ton of stuff: From the historical to the biophysical to the practical.
We’ll quite literally practice meditation for anywhere from 2 to 15 minutes.

My goal is to help you become familiar and comfortable with the tool of meditation, so you can practice it on your own, if you want.

After our first 10 learning-filled sessions, not-quite-weekly and taking place over a period of about 3 months, those who wish to move forward will be invited to come later (or stay late after a review class) and focus solely on practicing meditation.

There’s a caveat: This class is only being offered (for now) to my therapy clients. Part of the reason is because I will not be offering conversation during these classes. Rather, these first 10 classes will be me, teaching. Plus a few minutes of all of us, practicing. With only 30 minutes for class, there won’t be much time for Q&A (and sometimes, none at all) and definitely no time for more in-depth discussion. But I will certainly be happy to make myself available during later scheduled sessions for participants.

So, if you happen to be reading this and
wondering how to get invited to the meditation classes:
Reach out to me directly. Whether that’s by email (tracy@tracymorris.com) or text or voicemail (325-261-3566). Let’s talk and figure out if this class will be right for you. That’s my highest concern, and I’m honored to discuss it with you.

If you have received an invitation from me for this series of classes: Please respond and let me know if you can attend, as soon as possible.
I’m excited to get this going so you might benefit before the end-of-year holidays!

Our first class will start the week before Thanksgiving (Thursday, Nov 15) at 9:20am.

The rest of the classes will be on weeks after Thanksgiving:

In Houston office only:

Nov 29

Dec 6

Dec 13

Dec 20

Jan 3

Jan 10

Jan 17

Jan 24

Jan 31

Each session is only $10. As always, you’re welcome to pay by cash, check, or card. You’ll find a basket at the class where you can deposit your payment (or an authorization note, if you’re using a card.)

I’m really looking forward to sharing my meditation journey with you!

New Year, Happy or Not

In Finding Community, Holidays, This is Life

This essay was originally published on a blog of mine from a few years ago, when I was taking something of a geographical sabbatical and had moved to a place very different from my hometown of Houston.
You may have noticed that it’s standard protocol for helping professionals to avoid sharing much of their personal life in public, and especially to keep under wraps any life events that might be viewed as “other than” a particular version of socially optimal. But I think that such choices — to offer up only those versions of ourselves that are scrubbed of the things that all humans go through — only promotes the division between “expert” and “client.” And that’s not how I practice. I offer the following up in honor of new beginnings, which almost always unroll after struggles.

“Well, here’s to a new, BETTER year ahead!”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
“I hear ya, sister. It’s got to be…”
“Can’t be much worse, right?”
“Yeah. This year has to be better. This last one was really bad.”
Nods and affirmative mumbles all around…

I sat at the wobbly wooden table, peering into the styrofoam cup at my iced tea dregs, wondering what to say, and knowing that I couldn’t echo their sentiments. So I didn’t.

I didn’t say anything, in fact, as I looked around the weekly gathering of friends who all, apparently, had just experienced a really rough year. At least it’s good they were looking forward with some hope, even if it came off the tongue with a sort of dread in the lilt.

I didn’t offer up that my year had been pretty damned grand. It only took me a few decades to wise up and know when it’s just cruel to utter positive thoughts. Besides, explaining to a group of relative strangers how a year such as my own could be labeled “grand” would take a lot of energy. It’s just not so good to get your forehead stamped with “Ignore This Crazy Woman’s Ramblings” during your first year of residence. Better to wait until they’re convinced you’re really an Okay Gal first, then lay the crazy on ’em.

A few days later, I’m prepping to take Burb Dawg on what might just be the Time Of His Life — camping in the cold — or what could possibly be One Big Lesson In Dog Camping for me. And in between the tent rolling and coffee packin’, I’m reading RevEl’s latest. I’m reading her approach to the time-honored New Year’s Resolution tradition (a game I’ve always found utterly ridiculous; probably manufactured by marketing copywriters), and I’m likin’ her educating us on Janus/January and how He was granted the gift of seeing backwards and forwards, and how we can be standing in the
metaphorical doorway that is really just a turn of the page on the Western Art calendar hanging on my pantry door, looking backwards, looking forwards…

And I started to cry.

No, no, not tears of the Auld Lang Syne variety. Not even weeping from the joy of Holy Cow There’s Nothing But Glory Ahead Of Me. It was more like Yet Another A-ha Moment Revealing Another Possible Reason Why I’m Out In The Sticks kinda cryin’.

Those A-ha’s are damned relieving, if nothing else. I mean, I may be staring down a task that looks about as meaningful as avoiding the deer poop in my field, but at least I’m seeing something. And down goes the left shoulder with that breath out. Aaahhhh. Aha.

Last year at this time, I had no idea that I would be leaving The Swamp for the first time. I wasn’t exactly sold on anything happening, in truth, because that’s just the way I think. Pondering possibilities is what keeps me waking up every day. Nobody in their right or wrong mind could’ve convinced me that I’d be takin’ my Burb-raised, middle-class, metaphysics-lovin’, out-of-the-box-thinkin’, Buddhist butt out to live among people who appear quite nearly the opposite of me in a lot of fundamental ways. But here I am, and some folks already know that I felt pulled or pushed, or that maybe I even floated over here, without really knowing why. I keep my eyes and ears open for clues, but mostly I let the silence wrap around me tight enough to hear my heart.

My heart hears people out here who feel forgotten. The world is moving beyond their reach while they hold tightly to what they were always told — by people who love them, mind you — was right and good. The ambience of fear and fortitude was the first thing that hit me. Now I’m feeling their sadness and sense of abandonment.

They’re just like me. Apart from appearin’ quite nearly the opposite…

So, I’ve changed my “permanent” address, even on my driver’s license (thanks, young Mr. Trooper, for that warning). I’ll continue to sit in as just another jester in the weekly happy-hour court at the Grill. I’ll let them get more glimpses of how much like them I am.

Eventually, I’ll let them see how crazy good all of this really is…

When “Happy Holidays!” Doesn’t Ring True

In Finding Community, Holidays, Self Care, Self Help

Lots of people feel left out at this time of year, for lots of reasonable reasons.

Harsh memories of the past can be haunting.
Disappointments about the present can feel insurmountable.
The idea of a New Time approaching, full of hope and possibility, can seem quite Pollyanna-ish and naively unrealistic.
Maybe it just doesn’t feel like your own beliefs fit in with the dominant culture around you.

The pressure to focus in on Family often seems overwhelming this time of year. And if your own family is very different than you expected, or if you feel disconnected from the people who were or are ‘supposed to be’ your family, the messages from everything and everyone around you to can add up to a looming sense of being The Odd Person Out.

Does it help, even just a little, to know that not only are you not alone with these feelings, but that there are millions of people who feel very similarly, right now?

A few tips on helping yourself get through this time of year:

Comfort Yourself

Make a project of finding out what makes you feel comfy, inside and out. Take a few ideas from others — you know, the usuals like comfort foods and restful activities — and experiment to see which ones actually work for you. If any of them don’t add up to providing you with a sense of calm well-being (even if just a little bit,) don’t waste time, energy, or money on it any longer. Find some new comfort-bringing things. If you have any pleasant memories, those can often provide you with ideas.

Find Your Tribe

Knowing that there are millions of others who don’t feel connected with “the holidays,” think about ways you might reach out and meet them, if not now, at some point later. Could it be that there are people a whole lot like you right around the corner? And if it’s a matter of your living in a locale that seems hostile to your beliefs and ideas, the internet and social media can be a revealing, informative source for finding others with whom you click. Considering how vulnerable and even unsafe it can seem to let others know how you really feel this time of year, think about the strong possibility that someone out there could say, “Right? Me, too!”

Re-author Your Story

While our culture has built up around the concept of “new beginnings” that start at a certain point on any given calendar, the truth is that we’ve never stopped — and we’re barely even aware that we ever started — writing our own narrative of living. Think of your existence as a story, and you could be on your way to editing it in ways that you never considered before, for upcoming episodes or chapters that you prefer. And even if you hate actual writing, you can find other ways to tell your story — to a friend, into a recording device, or to a mental health practitioner. Sometimes, the re-telling of our narratives can help us re-author the continuing story in ways we never imagined before…

So, instead of wishing you “happy holidays” — let’s change it up to