Feeling, Honoring, and Releasing Our Stories of Grief

By Kathy Lucas, Holistic Movement Coach, Dancer, and Steel Club Specialist

Dance had always been a home that I could retreat to in times of joy, frustration, hope and healing. It has given me permission to explore the pit of inner crises and became my personal processing tool that had no rules or filters. I cherish this relationship, which is why it felt like a dagger to my heart when the keys to my “home” didn’t quite open the door after I lost my father.

I thought, “I just need to find my way back to my body. I need to move this grief through. I’ll find some relief!” But grief grounded me into recognizing that this significant loss required a slow and more contemplative approach to moving with the grief patterns than I had and have experienced. During the beginning months of my loss, I felt heavy, sleepy, exhausted, devastated, weepy, and totally unmotivated. As an intuitive, active, sensitive, curious person, I felt as if something swooped in, pushed the “old me” out, and set up shop as a completely different being. I struggled for months thinking that there was something wrong with me. The pain of losing my father felt so immense. How could I snap back and pick up from where I left off? How could I get back to work, back to socializing, back to projects, and perhaps most genuinely, how could I make my way back into dance?

With so much change in my life, my journey of exploring ways to heal through dance would convey that this grief had a lot to teach me. I started to observe and journal some of the physical sensations that would surface through moments of grief and grieving. I’d give myself permission to sit, breathe, or move with them in ways that felt organic to my process. Some days I couldn’t move an inch! All that was needed was to acknowledge what was true and observe the shapes or postures that my body was trying to reveal—an honoring of sorts. The body is wise, and when we take time to become aware of how we hold ourselves, move, walk, sit or even interact with others, we have an opportunity to enter greater clarity of what may or may not need to be expressed. Through greater awareness, I have found that I can have compassion for my grief journey. I’m learning to be patient and walk beside her vs running from her.

The more aware I become, the stronger my desire to use movement to chisel away at the heaviness of loss. Experimenting with moving through space manifested as a sort of “clearing.” It has given me a connection to release and hope. Megan Devine, author of It’s OK That You’re Not OK writes, “Your pain needs space to unfold.” This struck me to my core and prompted me to ask, “How much space do you give yourself to grieve?” With this prompt, I started to map out the physical space that I’ve honestly allowed myself to grieve. The space was an outline of my body! Why? Pressure. Pressure that our society places on us to “return to normal; get back to it; move on. But with loss, we change, so there is no going back. We learn a new identity, and this learning process takes time, space, patience, and love.

As I continue to allow for more space to grieve, I give myself more freedom to move and dance through the textures, shapes, gestures and stories of grief and loss. And through this experiment, an extension of love that I have for my father grows between us, building space and opening the doors to dance again.

My upcoming workshop, which will be held outdoors on the Hospicare grounds, focuses on introspection as it relates to static energy of the body, mind, and spirit. We’ll bring awareness to stored tension and the manifestations of grief in the body by exploring breath work, gestures, physical shapes, movement pathways and verbal expression. “The body says what the words cannot” -Martha Graham. Registration is required by September 14th. REGISTER HERE. For more information contact the Bereavement staff via phone at 607-272-0212 or email bereavement@hospicare.org.

EVENT INFORMATION

Feeling, Honoring and Releasing Our Stories of Grief: Using Dance and Movement as a Healing Landscape

Facilitator: Kathy Lucas

Date: Monday, September 19, 2022 Time: 5:30 p.m.-7:00 pm

Location: Hospicare & Palliative Care Services, 172 E. King Road, Ithaca, NY

Finding Ways to Mourn Your Loss

by Jane Baker Segelken, MA, MSW, part of the Social Work team at Hospicare & Palliative Care Services

People who are grieving often hear all kinds of advice about the best way to mourn. All the suggestions we receive may have some semblance of helpfulness, but the fact is there’s no right or wrong way to grieve. What we do and what works for us depends on our personality, our life experiences, the significance of the loss, and many other things.

In his book, The Wild Edge of Sorrow: Rituals of Renewal and the Sacred Work of Grief, Francis Weller encourages mourners to express their grief communally, often through ritual. In a 2015 interview with Tim McKee of The Sun Magazine, Weller said that “Expressing grief has always been a challenge. The main difference between our society and societies in the past is how private we are with it today.”

Weller explains that grief is not meant to be carried as a “solitary burden,” and yet the message many of us receive in our sorrow is “Get over it. Get back to work.” We are not meant to handle grief in isolation, he says in the interview. And yet more often than not the bereaved rarely feel the kindness or compassion or community they need to face their sorrows. He suggests that observances and rituals can help those experiencing loss stay connected to their sorrow.

Formal Rituals and Other Practices

The most obvious rituals involve events such as wakes, funerals, and shiva. For example, traditionally a Catholic wake involves family and friends keeping watch over the body of the deceased, usually in their home. After a Jewish burial, mourners return to the home of the deceased or a close friend/family member to “sit Shiva,” which involves saying prayers and other rituals that encourage facing the fact of the death.

According to funeralbasics.org, funerals, the most universal of rituals, help us acknowledge the reality of the death; give testimony to the life of the deceased; encourage the expression of grief in a way consistent with the culture’s values; provide support to mourners; allow for the embracing of faith and beliefs about life and death; and offers continuity and hope for the living.

Of course, rituals around mourning are not limited in any way to the wake, shiva, or funeral. For some people, the ritual can be as simple as taking a walk, says Rabbi Brian of Religion Outside the Box. For others, a ritual can be cooking the favorite meal of the deceased on the same day each week, creating an altar, leaving something at the gravesite, continuing a monthly activity in honor of the deceased, or engaging in a regular writing exercise. It doesn’t have to be an act performed in a prescribed order; instead, our actions are aimed at tending to our grief.

The author, Weller, explains that “it’s up to us to devise our own rituals … Our rituals must speak to the particular ways we’ve been shaped, or misshaped, by our culture.” Ritual, he adds, “has the capacity to derange us, to shake us out of the old forms. We need that derangement, because the current arrangement isn’t working.” The idea, however, is not to forget the person we’re mourning or the event we’re grieving. The goal is to be present with and express our despair.

One practice that mourners find helpful is writing about a significant loss they experienced. Writing about the person, the loss, and any rituals they did seems to help people make sense of what they experienced. This kind of ritual is best done without censorship, without worry that the writing, spelling, or grammar isn’t perfect, and with the courage to let our emotions spill out. Writing to Ease Grief and Loss, which appeared in the November 15, 2016 Harvard Medical School publication explained “some research suggests that disclosing deep emotions through writing can boost immune function as well as mood and well-being. Conversely, the stress of holding in strong feelings can ratchet up blood pressure and heart rate and increase muscle tension.”

Upcoming Events

During the month of September, Hospicare is hosting two special programs that may be of interest to the bereaved. On the 6, 13, 20, and 27th  from 6-8 p.m. via Zoom, Jane Baker Segelken, MSW, will facilitate Writing Your Loss Story, a four-week writing program that provides therapeutic prompts for the bereaved to use to tell their story. On September 15 from 6-7:30 p.m., Hospicare’s Communications Coordinator, Brenna Fitzgerald, will facilitate an interactive discussion of the book The Wild Edge of Sorrow: Rituals of Renewal and the Sacred Work of Grief by Francis Weller.

See https://www.hospicare.org/event/writing-your-loss-story/2022-09-13/ for more information and to register for the writing program; go to https://www.hospicare.org/event/virtual-book-discussion-the-wild-edge-of-sorrow-by-francis-weller/ to register for the book discussion event. Or call 607-272-0212.

Sit and Reflect in Hospicare’s Poetry Chair

by Teresa Yatsko, Hospicare volunteer

This chair created by Hospicare volunteer Teresa Yatsko is being offered to all as a place to sit and relax, read the writings of others, or consider your own writing as a way of joining the effort to bring people together in the joy and healing power of the written word. Stop by our Ithaca grounds and enjoy! Below is Teresa’s amazing story behind the chair.

The Poet-Tree chair project involves offering a space for people to write poetry and to leave behind their writings for others to read and perhaps be inspired by. There have been seven Poet-Tree chairs placed around Tompkins County to date. I’ve enjoyed the many thrills and benefits of finding notebooks filled with poems and thought-provoking reflections from people of all ages over the last few years.

Recently I’ve been encouraged to share my story. My intention is to share part of that story with you in the hopes that you might consider creating your own unique Poet-Tree chair space and to incorporate the concept into your setting.  My current goal is to write a small book describing my experience and I am looking to include how the concept I’ve developed can be adapted. 

Here is some background as to how this poetry project came to be. A few years ago, I began carrying a small notebook and pencil in my pocket when I hiked in the woods. I started writing short poems and observations about the moments I was encountering. The more I wrote, the more I began to to think about all the people who walked along the same trails and wondered what they had observed, what their experience had been. What if hikers were encouraged to observe their surroundings and then had the opportunity to write a simple poem? Would they?

Around the same time, while on a hike at the Roy H. Park Preserve, I saw someone had left a simple chair made from tree branches in the gorge where the two streams meet. I took a seat and reflected on the beauty around me. I loved the idea that someone had left the chair behind for others to enjoy. Something compelled me to take a photo of the chair. I’m glad I did because a few days later when I returned, the chair was gone. I don’t know what happened to it, but I was determined to make another one and put it back where the original one had been.

As I was building the chair I had the idea of placing a notebook with it where people could write about what they saw or what they were experiencing while they were sitting in the chair. I bought an inexpensive dry bag and inside put a notebook, pens, and short explanation of my discovery of the original chair and the inspiration it sparked. I encouraged people to sit in the replicated one, to relax, and to write if they felt moved to do so. 

A few friends of mine and I hiked into the gorge and assembled the chair. Each of us wrote a poem. I hoped our writing would prompt others to write. A few days later, I discovered several entries had been recorded by fellow hikers. There were simple poems and beautifully detailed observations of the natural world. Entry after entry began to appear over the weeks. I felt incredibly inspired. During the next month I would make six other chairs and place them along the hiking trails of Tompkins County. 

As the months went by and I read more of the writings, I became deeply moved by what was happening. People were using the chair to not only write fun and creative poems, but also to write down snapshots of their lives in that moment. Many of the writings were quite profound. People expressed gratitude for the opportunity to stop and reflect. Many felt a connection to others who had written in the book. It seemed as if a very special community was being formed by having this shared experience of writing while in the Poet-Tree chair.

Communal Grieving Can Offer Peace

by Jane Baker Segelken, MA, MSW, part of the Social Work team at Hospicare & Palliative Care Services

At a time when rituals surrounding the death of a loved one seem to be lacking, one of the true gifts Hospicare gives the community is the opportunity to grieve with others in a way that feels supportive. It is a benefit that I and so many others have taken advantage of over the years, and importantly it’s available to anyone whether the person who died was a Hospicare patient or not. Grieving communally has a long history, as can be seen in the traditions of many cultures.

From Shiva to Day of the Dead

In Jewish practice, for example, mourners sit Shiva for seven days as a way to begin the spiritual and emotional healing process. One aspect of sitting Shiva is when those closest to the deceased welcome relatives, friends, co-workers, and others into their home for what is known as “making a shiva call.” The primary purpose is to provide a time when mourners join together sharing stories about the person who died and offering words of comfort. Each year on the anniversary of a loved one’s death, mourners burn a yahrzeit (“year time”) candle for an entire day.

Known as the second line or jazz funeral, New Orleans’ ritual funeral procession is essentially a parade where mourners and celebrants follow the casket, family members, and musicians who play a somber dirge as they work their way through the city’s streets to the cemetery. After the burial is complete, more joyous music is played as returning mourners celebrate the deceased’s life. Stemming back to slavery, the music and dancing that are part this tradition allow each participant to express their emotions in their own unique way while sharing their grief experience with others. Annually, many New Orleans residents celebrate the more subdued All Saints Day by visiting and decorating cemeteries.

Mexicans hold a vigil honoring the deceased with friends and family for one or two days, during which they eat, drink, and pray. Following this wake, the person who died is buried in his or her clothing with important possessions. The tradition Mexico is most known for is the “Day of the Dead” (el Día de los Muertos), an annual grief ritual that is observed by all Mexicans as a celebration to honor those who have died. Beautiful altars built by the families are decorated with flowers, candles, the deceased’s favorite foods, and pan de muerto, known as Day of the Dead bread. In addition to being held in the home, the celebration may take place in the local cemetery where families might picnic, play music, or spend the night. The goal of honoring the dead this way is to keep them from being forgotten.

Grief, Out Loud

What all these traditions and others offer are ways to express grief out loud — to mourn in our own way and on our own time in the company of others who are also grieving. For me, talking to others who understood how sad I felt helped me feel validated and that much closer to healing. Grieving communally allows us to speak and show our sorrow and ultimately feel less lonely. It is a way to feel connected.

Many grieving people say they feel like society gives a deadline at which point they are expected to “be over” their grief. A friend of mine whose husband had died said she felt so alone because just a few months after he passed away people stopped asking how she was doing. When she tried to talk about her spouse, others changed the subject. The implication was that she needed to “get over it” and “move on.” The reality is that there is no proscribed period of mourning, something my friend learned when she began attending groups and events where she felt heard. Grief has its own often non-linear timeline and is uniquely expressed by each person.

Hospicare Offers Fellowship to the Bereaved

The communal grieving opportunities at Hospicare include ongoing support groups, workshops, and public memorial events. Participating in these programs provides individuals with the opportunity to share thoughts, feelings, and experiences with others in similar situations and can enhance the healing process and reduce a sense of isolation. Information about the available programs and other services, including one-to-one counseling, can be found at https://www.hospicare.org/grief-support or by calling 607-272-0212.

Upcoming Event: Illuminations, A Community Memorial

Join Hospicare on June 9 from 7:30 – 9:00 pm for the annual Illuminations Community Memorial. Enjoy the Hospicare gardens, light a luminaria in memory of a loved one, and share in a special program of remembrance featuring live music, poetry, and concluding with a sunset rendition of “Taps” alongside the pond. The event will be entirely outdoors, rain or shine! Light refreshments will be served. In case of inclement weather, event will be held under a tent. Social distancing and masks are encouraged. Attendance is free. Register at hospicare.org/event/illuminations-community-memorial-2/ or contact us with questions at events@hospicare.org or 607-272-0212.

How to Talk to Your Proxy About Your Advanced Care Wishes

By Jane Baker Segelken, MA, MSW, and part of the Social Work team at Hospicare & Palliative Care Services

Jane Segelken, MA, MSW

One thing that’s important to remember when thinking about advanced care planning is that it’s not just about end of life. In reality, it’s about how you’re living now. It’s about making sure everyone is ready to make decisions on your behalf when you’re unable to communicate — even temporarily while you’re recovering from an accident, surgery, or debilitating illness.

Several years ago, 83-year-old Ella fell and severely broke her shoulder. In the hospital and loaded up on pain medication, the usually cognitively sharp Ella was unable to think clearly. She couldn’t understand the surgical options being presented to her and couldn’t communicate which surgery she preferred. Fortunately, she had talked to her legally appointed health care proxy about many different things including how important quality of life was to her. That information, including knowing something about Ella’s hobbies and interests, allowed her agent to advocate for an extensive surgery that allowed Ella to resume all her activities, including driving. Had the proxy not been informed and kept up to date on Ella’s wishes as they evolved, the proxy might have allowed the physicians to perform a lesser surgery that would have severely limited the very active Ella’s independence.

There is no question conversations about our advanced care wishes are hard. Making decisions about future scenarios isn’t easy. It’s scary for us to think about our own misery and it’s daunting for our proxy to consider our suffering. But the talks are totally worth it. In fact, doing so will minimize our distress and give our agent the confidence they are making the right decisions — some of the hardest he or she will ever have to do.

Once you’ve identified the person you want to represent your wishes — someone who can make difficult decisions, can advocate for you, and who knows your values — it’s time to have “The Talk.”

Talking about your advanced care wishes

There is never the perfect moment to begin the conversation. And it may happen over time — in several conversations rather than one. But a good way to start with the person you’ve selected as your agent is to frame it by saying, “I’d like to talk to you about how I want to live.”

  1. Be direct.
  2. Talk about a situation that someone else, such as a friend or relative, has experienced.
  3. Speak about your values — what makes your life worth living?
  4. Discuss what brings you comfort and joy — your interests, likes, and dislikes.
  5. Talk about what health, sickness, and death mean to you.
  6. Talk about pain. Do you want to be able to communicate while being treated for pain even if it means you might still be uncomfortable? Or would you rather be sedated and pain free?
  7. Consider life support treatments and reveal where your views on them come from. Share under what situations you would want to be on life support — such as a device to help you breathe, nutrition and hydration through a tube, CPR, etc. — and when you might want nothing to be done.
  8. Make sure to address your religious beliefs, if any, regarding healthcare decisions.

Part of this discussion should also address care at the end of your life. Things to consider include:

  1. Do you want a religious or spiritual leader to visit with you?
  2. Do you want music, candles, incense, and dim/bright light in the room? Specify the kind of music you like, the candle/incense aroma, and whether the light should be natural or artificial.
  3. Do you want to know when death is approaching so you can tie up loose ends and say goodbye to friends and family?
  4. Where do you want to die (hospital, hospice residence, at home, other)?
  5. Do you want to donate your organs? Are there any limitations?

As time goes by, especially if your health changes, review your advanced care planning wishes. When you’re young, every 10 years is a good benchmark. As you get older you may want to reevaluate even more frequently. Make sure your proxy, family, close friends, and your doctor know of any changes in your preferences.

Resources

The planning you do now will be a gift to your proxy, to those in your life to whom you matter, and to yourself.

Join Dr. Lucia Jander and the Hospicare & Palliative Care Services’ interdisciplinary team on March 15, from 5:30-7 for a webinar, Having the Conversations & Organizing Your Info.  To register email jennifer@crcfl.net or call 607-272-0212.

*Jane Baker Segelken, MA, MSW, is part of the Social Work team at Hospicare & Palliative Care Services.

Recovering Your Creative Spirit in Grief

by Brenna Fitzgerald writer, editor, coach, and host of Creative Recovery podcast

Grief is a process that may involve conflicting emotions and can often feel uncomfortable and confusing. It’s natural to want to close down, shut off, and stop this unpredictable flow, especially in a society that expects grieving to happen in a certain linear timeframe and pathologizes anything outside of that.

Brenna Fitzgerald

I recently listened to an interview with grieving expert David Kessler, author of Finding Meaning: The Sixth Stage of Grief. He talked about the desire grieving individuals may feel to make the grief smaller in some way and offered an insightful alternative perspective to this reaction. “Rather than make the grief smaller,” he said, “we need to make ourselves bigger. Grief is love, and we don’t want it to get smaller.” He calls for a transformation of the traumatic wound into the cherished wound.

Indeed, research on grief supports Kessler’s emphasize on the importance of making space for grieving in all its forms. In his book The Wild Edge of Sorrow, psychotherapist Francis Weller writes, “if we ignore the fire, our internal life feels cold and the grief in our container congeals. Offering our attention, affection, and love, on the other hand, feeds the fire, and the gradual work of transmuting grief into gold can commence.”

My own early struggles with depression and an eating disorder as a teenager offered a gateway into investigating grief. Of course, I didn’t know it at the time, so consumed by my own suffering and unprocessed loss. It was not until I had undergone years of therapy in various forms from cognitive therapy to meditation and mindfulness practices to restorative yoga and creative writing that a deeper understanding of my inner world awakened. I realized that my depression and eating disorder were manifestations of stuck energy—of grief—from having experienced trauma in my early years and not having had the tools to process it. I began to realize the importance of practices, and especially practices of creative expression, to help move the complex energies stirred by my losses.

As Weller writes, “we are a menagerie of moods, emotions, thoughts, and selves. For the most part, we keep the unsavory brothers and sisters on the outskirts of town. Practice, however, invites these voices into the mix, recognizing in them an essential element in our well-being. We are asked to welcome the weak and vulnerable parts of ourselves in times of grieving….” I love his perspective and the emphasis on practice as an invitation into such a compassionate view of our grief.

It is through this lens that I created my upcoming workshop “Recovering Your Creative Spirit in Grief.” Grief can cause you to feel stuck, uninspired, and unfulfilled. This impacts your ability to express conflicting emotions in creative ways. In this workshop we will explore the feeling of being stuck and how it affects our inner life and outer expression. Through written reflection, group discussion, mind-body practices, and intuitive collage I will guide participants into a deeper understanding of their own blocks. Together we will create a safe and supportive container for each person to begin the process of shifting from stuck to unstuck. My intention is to facilitate awareness of and curiosity around the needs and desires of your creative spirit and to share tools and practices to help you sustain a nourishing and fulfilling engagement in life well beyond the workshop.

David Kessler says that “each person’s grief is as unique as their fingerprint. But what everyone has in common is that no matter how they grieve, they share a need for their grief to be witnessed.” Research on grief conducted by Robert A. Neimeyer, a psychology professor at the University of Memphis and a clinician, points to this same insight of the need for connection in healing. Great strength, resiliency, and compassion emerge when we can be present to our own self-expression and the self-expression of others, whether in the form of sharing stories around a fire or making collage on zoom.

This workshop is an opportunity for us to come together in community and offer space for one another’s stuck energy to flow in creative ways. May the practices we play with help you connect to a much larger sense of yourself and the world—a self that can hold, in love, the pain of your loss. As one of my favorite writers and thinkers, Audre Lorde, says: “These places of possibility within ourselves are dark because they are ancient and hidden; they have survived and grown strong through darkness. Within these deep places, each one of us holds an incredible reserve of creativity and power, of unexamined and unrecorded emotion and feeling.” I look forward to sharing healing creative space with you at “Recovering your Creative Spirit in Grief” offered virtually through Hospicare on March 3, 2022, from 6:30-8:00 p.m. May we all exceed the limits of our own self-image and awaken to the expansive being within—our inner creator.

EVENT INFORMATION

Recovering Your Creative Spirit in Grief
March 03, 6:30 – 8:00 pm via Zoom

To participate in this event, REGISTER HERE by February 28th. 

To learn about other events offered by Hospicare & Palliative Care Services, visit the events calendar on our website.

Writing Your Loss

By Jane Baker Segelken MA, MSW

Much research has been done about the therapeutic benefits of writing, something I can attest to from personal experience.

My interest in expressive writing began many years ago when I first started keeping an informal journal and wrote about some of my life’s more difficult experiences. While participating in a writing circle, I was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 41. Rather than dropping out of the group I continued, directing much of my time to writing about my journey. To my surprise, I discovered how much better I felt writing and then reading what I had written out loud. Building upon what I learned, I have facilitated numerous writing programs over the years, including several for grieving Hospicare family members.

The Value of Therapeutic Writing

Researchers James W. Pennebaker, Joshua Smyth, and others have shown that recording experiences involving traumatic events, such as illness, care giving, and loss, can help people restore their emotional and physical health. Some individuals report that even their blood pressure drops.

When referring to this type of narrative writing, various terms are used interchangeably: therapeutic writing, expressive writing, reflective writing, and writing to heal. What people mean when they use any of the terms is writing deep thoughts and feelings about stressful events.

Therapeutic writing allows us to process, understand, and resolve the traumatic experience — to gain insight into our feelings and emotions while gaining distance and perspective.

Jane Baker Segelken will facilitate this four week writing program to enable bereaved to tell their story, explore their unique circumstances and use words to heal. Wednesday, Mondays, Oct 18, 25, November 1 and 8, 6:00-8:00pm. 

The Sessions

The most important thing to remember here is that participants do not need to be “writers.” The goal is to write, and it is perfectly acceptable to explore topics other than those I suggest. To be efficacious, participants should plan to attend all four sessions.

The sessions are structured so that each may include a short guided meditation; the reading of a story, poem, or essay; 20 to 45 minutes of writing; and 20 to 45 minutes of reading out loud. Writing by longhand or typing makes no difference in outcome, and participants should write in whatever mode they feel comfortable.

So that everyone feels safe and secure, everything that is said or done in the room stays in the room — complete confidentiality is mandatory. Participants may not comment on each other’s reading other than to say “thank you” to ensure that no one receives feedback that isn’t what he or she expects to hear and that there are no negative feelings. The sessions are not designed to offer counseling.

The goal is to begin to get your thoughts on paper not to end the workshop with finished pieces. It’s a beginning … a chance to start exploring your personal experience in a way that makes sense to you in a safe and supportive environment.

Register here.

The Beauty of What Remains

By Rebecca Schillenback

What is left when someone we love has gone from our sight?  What remains when a beloved person has died?  What will be left of us, after we are gone?  Can beauty be found in what remains?

In his book The Beauty of What Remains, Rabbi Steve Leder offers a gentle meditation upon these questions.  Drawing from the lessons he has gleaned from his years as the senior rabbi of one of the largest synagogues in the world, Leder’s many miles spent walking with people ‘through the valley of the shadow of death’ have led him to understand that it is actually death that can show us how to live and love more deeply.  With great compassion, Leder approaches the loss and grief that visit us because of death, and asks us to consider what gifts and opportunities might also be found there. 

Of course, it’s so understandable to wish for a life without the losses and griefs of death.  But Leder suggests that if such a wish were granted, while we could gain time and safety to a degree that is almost incomprehensible, we would also paradoxically lose something urgent and precious that defines our very humanity and propels us to love.   In the end, Leder proposes that it is precisely the urgency of love, and the preciousness of what and who we love about living, that are an indelible quality of being human, and of the beauty of what remains when death has taken someone we love from us.

All of the great spiritual traditions wrestle with the reality of our human finitude, and give voice to our many responses to the given-ness of our mortal condition.  Many stories, songs, poems, faiths, philosophies, hypotheses, and cosmologies have been crafted by our spiritual ancestors and by our contemporaries, through the millennia and modernity, to grapple with our shared condition.  Steve Leder’s book is another lovely offering in this long tradition.  Please join us as we explore this gentle book, and use Leder’s reflections as our guide for creating and connecting with ‘the beauty of what remains.’  

Book Discussion: The Beauty of What Remains, by Steve Leder

This event will include an interactive discussion of the book, The Beauty of What Remains.  Rebecca Schillenback will lead us through an exploration of spirituality, grief and what can be learned from this book. Held via Zoom. Registration is required by September 20th. For more information contact the Bereavement staff via phone at 607-272-0212 or send an email. Login details will be provided after registration.

Wintering and Cold Water Swimming: An Exploration in Radical Self Care During the Pandemic

by Laura Ward, LMFT, CT

“When it’s really cold, the snow makes a lovely noise underfoot, and it’s like the air is full of stars.”

Katherine May

The water is completely still under a brilliant sky, layers of light beneath a canopy of dark clouds. The moon shone brightly above us.  Walking into the lake, I admire the tiny shards of shell glittering on the rocks below, each shard clear and defined in the calm water. As we swim, I can feel the cold reaching all the way to my center, reminding me to just be, to breathe deep. Walking away, I carry the lake within me, calm and shimmering.

I wrote this reflection after completing my second cold water swim in Cayuga lake with my co-worker Sara Worden, Assistant Director of Community Engagement.  Cold water swimming has been shown to have numerous physical and mental health benefits and many people engage in the practice regularly. 

I became interested in this practice after reading the book Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat During Difficult Times by Katherine May, which is the book featured in our upcoming community book discussion. 

In the chapter “Cold Water Swimming”, Katherine talks about the mental health benefits and comradery of cold water swimming. Many people are using cold water swimming to help them cope with the many losses experienced during the pandemic. It’s a safe activity that can help swimmers feel connected to the healing powers of nature and other humans.

Book Discussion: March 4th with Laura Ward via Zoom. Register here.

Then, while talking with Sara, I discovered that she had had just booked American ice, open water and endurance swimmer, Jaimie Monahan, to speak at an upcoming event for the Women Swimmin’ community.  After marveling at the coincidence of our shared interest and the intersection of our upcoming events, we decided to give cold water swimming a try for ourselves and committed to six swims over a two-week period. 

Virtual Presentation: March 18 via Zoom. Register here.

It has been an exhilarating experience and one that has reminded me that I need to continue to stretch out of my comfort zone and look for new ways to stay healthy and care for myself as we approach the year mark of the pandemic and social distancing. To many, this might sound like a rather extreme example of self-care and I agree. 

However, we invite you to join us in reflecting on what you might need to keep going during these challenging times.  We hope that you will be inspired by Katherine May or Jaimie Monahan as you contemplate how to answer this question for yourself.

Support through the Seasons

Tools for Navigating Grief and the Holidays during COVID

At this point it’s clear, the pandemic will change many of the ways in which we celebrate the upcoming holiday season. We usually associate the holidays with being “joyful” or “merry,” gathering with family and friends, giving gifts, and engaging in festivities and traditions. This year we will need to consider how our celebrations will need to change in order to keep ourselves and our friends, family, and community safe.  

We will naturally feel some grief as we reassess what parts of the holiday we can still create and what aspects we will need to modify significantly or discard all together.  Grief can manifest in many ways, and it’s important to acknowledge its impact on our physical and emotional health as the holidays progress.

Hospicare is providing support to the community at this unusual time. Programs are free and all are welcome! To RSVP for programs or for questions call 607-272-0212 or email events@hospicare.org.  Held online via Zoom. Login details will be provided after registration. Register for programs at least 2 days before event.

Winter Solace Community Memorial: Sunday, December 6. Join us at 7pm for fellowship and conversation and stay for a memorial service. Or come at 7:30pm for the program of remembrance. All in our community who are grieving, regardless of whether your loved one died on Hospicare’s services, are welcome to stop by for a time of remembrance during the busy holiday season.

Coping with the Holidays: Wednesday, December 9, 5:30-7pm. Holiday time can be especially difficult after the death of a loved one. Learn about ways to take care of yourself and honor your feelings as we head into the holiday season. Includes a presentation followed by a discussion and support group.

Yoga for Grief: Thursday, January 7, 5-6:15pm. Start the new year with self-care! Enjoy a gentle and peaceful yoga practice with Jody Kessler. No experience necessary.