My daughter was asked to be an altar server at the annual mass for all those who died in my parish in the past year, and I decided to go with her without giving it much thought. I attended several funerals this year for family members of friends and acquaintances, and when I arrived, I saw many familiar faces.

There was a friend who lost his mom and his dad within weeks of each other. There was a classmate of my daughter whose father died over the summer—in attendance with her mother, brother and sister. A palpable sadness stirred among the attendees when this young family approached the front of the church together. Several others that I knew, and a host of others that I didn’t, lit a candle when the names of their loved ones were called.

One older gentleman, whose face I recognized but whose name I didn’t know, lit candles for three different people, the last time returning with tears in his eyes. Other names were read with no family in attendance. I’m sure we all prayed for those folks. I found myself remembering a similar service I attended more than 20 years ago at the hospital where my mother died, and I began to cry. I cried mostly just seeing the tears of others, but also as I recalled the real sense of loss I felt at age 17 and for years after.

In those years since, experiencing more losses and eventually working with many people grieving many kinds of losses, I’ve come to believe some things about grief that I sometimes offer to people I see in counseling.

We all experience loss

First, and I was so aware of this tonight, we all experience pain and loss. No one is immune. To be sure, some tragedies are hard to imagine, but in general, most of us can relate to the pain and emptiness of a loved one’s death. And for the most part, we survive it. I don’t often lead with this realization when working with someone’s “fresh” grief, but the expectation that they will survive allows me to more easily walk the journey with them. Knowing that the intensity of grief fades (and sometimes returns and fades again), and that life resumes, helps us to be there when another person needs us.

Grief is a process

Secondly, I see grief as a very active and tangible process. I find myself talking to people about the usefulness of pictures, keepsakes, and stories—not to make their loved ones into heroes that had no flaws—but simply to remember and honor the shared life experience. It is so common that these practices result in tears and/or laughter, each of which help to heal, and can be real signs of living through the loss.

Take time to remember

Related to this idea of being active, I encourage people to attempt putting some boundaries around the process. The best I can describe it to them is to move in and out of grief, taking some time intentionally to remember their loved one—possibly by writing a letter or looking at some pictures—and then to get on with life. Such a practice helps them to see that grief is real and valuable and does not have to be overwhelming.

Of course, no one is in perfect control of the process, nor should they be. Most of my healing tears have come from spontaneous memories prompted by a song or an event, like at the service tonight. I realized years ago that I could be grateful for the tears because they reminded me just how much each of those lost loved ones meant to me—may they rest in peace.

Photo by L.C.Nøttaasen (via flickr).

Of course, I couldn’t go back and choose a different path. It was done. So, what was I to do about that guilt?

I reminded myself that mistakes happen. I am not the first person to hurt another’s feelings, and as long as I live, I will be prone to doing it again. We make mistakes.

In cognitive-behavioral therapy, such self-talk would be considered a type of “reframe” or an “alternative thought.” A recent article in the New York Times Health section gave me a more specific and apt name for such personal reminders: self-compassion.

Self-compassion should not be thought of only as a “reframe.” According to the research by its pioneer, Dr. Kristin Neff, self-compassion is made up of three important components:

• Responding to yourself with understanding in the face of failure or pain
• Recognizing your own experience as part of the larger human experience (i.e., we all make mistakes and feel pain)
• Remaining aware of painful emotion while neither denying it nor being consumed by it.

As I read about this concept, I felt a need to be cautious. I wanted to resist the temptation to turn self-compassion into what I wanted it to be—in the way that the concept of self-esteem has resulted in confused parents, teachers, and coaches wondering what to say and not to say to children about their efforts and their errors. We miss out on the opportunity for genuine self-esteem when we dilute it to meaning simply good feelings about the self.

Similarly, if I see self-compassion simply as consolation in the face of all my failings, I am sure something will be missing. Dr. Neff explains as much on her website: Self-compassion is not self-indulgence; it doesn’t mean there is no sacrifice to be made; it does not ignore others.

Developing worthwhile traits like self-compassion takes more than the effort to read this blog post. If you want to explore self-compassion, a good resource is Dr. Neff’s website, where you can consider ways to apply it to your own life.

And that brings me back to my “foot in the mouth” experience a short time ago. In reminding myself that others sometimes make similar mistakes, it occurred to me that the people I offended might also have been in my place before. This reminder of the human experience allowed me to apologize and ask for understanding.

Self-compassion reminded me to express compassion to those I hurt by apologizing. In turn, they accepted that apology and expressed understanding back to me in return. If that’s what self-compassion leads to, then that’s a concept I want to read more about.

I’ve been thinking about how the Christmas gatherings we’ll participate in over the next two weeks seem to cause a lot of us more stress than joy, and it’s often because we don’t enjoy the people we’re planning to see. We get caught up in the expectations–what these events ought to be like, how the house should look, what another’s response should be to a gift or meal. Our heads aren’t dancing with sugarplums; they’re doing mental gymnastics–comparing all that is happening with an imagined ideal that’s probably different for everyone in the room.

I want to suggest keeping it simple this Christmas. Think generosity–”no strings attached.” Generosity is not trying to please everyone in the house or buying everyone the perfect gift. If we’re honest with each other, that heroic approach to hospitality and gift-buying has strings attached, doesn’t it?

Rather, think of it as spending the moment to offer something to the people around you.

Smile. Listen. Give real hugs.

Be willing to give help, and accept help. If you’re giving a gift or preparing a meal, resist measuring the reactions or counting the thank yous. Just give. Psychologists have identified some personal benefits from generosity, but this week, I’m not going to say anything about those benefits. Remember, no strings attached.

Photo by life is good (pete) via flickr

The difficult economic times seem to be coming to an end, or so we are being told. Employment is improving for some and people are finding jobs, even if the work isn’t their first choice. While there is security in getting a paycheck, there can also be apprehension if the job is in a new or different environment.

In the recent Stress in America survey, 76 percent of the Baby Booomer Generation (ages 46-64) reported money and job stability as a significant cause of stress. It can be challenging to take on a different role or to do work that you feel you are overqualified to do. And it may be difficult to feel comfortable and satisfied working for a boss who is younger than you.

This topic was raised recently in a newspaper just up the road from me in Kansas City. The article tells of the emotional conflicts for workers with younger bosses and also shared tips from psychologist Dr. Gary McClain.

I think the key tip in the article is to treat a younger boss or an older supervisee as a colleague. Becoming a supervisor is not always just about knowledge or experience; sometimes it’s about a set of leadership or management skills that not everyone has in equal amounts. The key in effective working relationships (or any relationship for that matter) is to cooperate, not to compete. Be honest and humble enough to admit the strengths in the other person and allow each other’s strengths to benefit the organization.

For those readers who feel sure that hiring the younger boss was a mistake (or worse, an injustice), you’re still better off looking for ways to take control rather than stew over the decision—whether that’s through gratitude for the job you have, changing your role, or looking for your next job.

Photo by Mish Mish (via Flickr).

A recent Stress in America survey shows pretty convincingly that women bear the brunt of stress. I don’t have a hard time believing that.  As a husband and father, I have seen the balancing act my wife does daily. So, I’m inclined to ask myself, “Should I take on more stress by taking on more responsibility?” The answer is: Not exactly. How a family best deals with stress can be complex but solutions can often be found by looking to the role models around us. For me, that role model is my own father.

As we recognize Men’s Health Week and look forward to Father’s Day, it’s a good time to share some of the things I learned from Dad.

My dad did a lot for his family and he’s one of the happiest and least “stressed out” guys I’ve known. Thinking of how he approached my mom, his friends, and his five children gives me some ideas for how to reduce stress in my own life. I hope it gives you some ideas, too.

Dad has people skills to spare, but he’s never been accused of being graceful. He put his foot through the attic floor – our living room ceiling – three different times when I was growing up. He twice set off the fire alarm and sprinklers at work when he left food in the break room toaster oven. Embarrassing? Not to Dad. He knows how to laugh at himself and to enjoy the laughter of others. 

I recall years ago feeling slightly annoyed when Dad asked me to do a favor for someone he knew. I have since realized that Dad is a person who asks for things because he is so willing to give. A person like Dad sees everyone as a potential friend—someone who could receive from him one day and give to him the next. Dad is willing to give because he is grateful for what he has—and in our house—grateful to God for having it. From Dad, I have learned the value of gratitude.

Dad has been generous to my mom, too. I have never seen him compete with her for time or money. He gave his time willingly and they never separated money out as “his and hers.” The needs of the family have always come first, and I never saw him resentful of it. There is no emotion more stressful than resentment. When we don’t compete with our spouses, we all win.

Dad has never perfect, and he never expected his children to be perfect, either. He has done his work well and he contributed to his community. He played with us children. He encouraged us. And he never did those things to impress or to “keep up” with anyone else. He always worked to be a better person, not to be what someone else said he should be. Trust me, we owned a Pacer, called one the worst cars in American history.

In many ways, stress comes from various types of “mismatches” in our lives—expecting more, doing more, wanting more and not being satisfied. That’s why people who don’t have what they need (money, job security, good health, etc.) often feel so much stress. Their lives are often a “mismatch” between what they need and what they have. But for some of us, we create a good bit of our own stress. And so, to reduce stress, these are some things I try to remember and share with the people whom I have worked with:

• Laughing at yourself reduces stress. The alternative is embarrassment or even shame.
• Cooperation reduces stress, and it might just reduce the stress of those hard-working women in our lives—which should really reduce our stress!
• Expecting perfection from yourself and others increases stress. For one, you’ll always feel that “mismatch” between who you are and who you want to be. And, two, you’re sure to cause misery for those imperfect people in your life. Seeking improvement is great. Seeking perfection is a disaster.
• Gratitude reduces stress. The very idea implies a match—not a mismatch—between what I want and what I have.

And if these ideas just don’t fit your style, take deep breaths and get a lot of exercise. They’ve always been shown to reduce stress.

Photos by Brandie! and heisnofool (via flickr)