A lot happened in the background in our small town during a couple of summer months in 2009 that has given me much food for thought.
Ours is a summer destination resort, so our carefree tourists expect to eat, drink and be merry while they are here - as well they should! And each year we quintuple in size as visitors arrive to party on the beaches. Our townsfolk put a lot of effort into providing accommodation, entertainment, alcohol and nourishment for our visitors. And, usually, we revel in the festivities with them.
But this year, and with good reason, our locals are over-stressed and just NOT in a party mood!
Most of our population is elderly, and the death of those who have lived long lives is taken in stride. But since the end of July, our town has been rocked by 2 separate accidental deaths of local youngsters. And these premature deaths have saddened everyone in town. In addition, 5 people we personally know have had surgeries or been tested for serious illness in as many weeks. And my husband's local firm has had to cope with 5 separate work-related setbacks.
In addition to the pervasive sadness felt by locals, the choking reality of thick smoke drifting into our valley from several forest fires in BC and Washington State has frequently made it difficult for everyone to breathe. The end result is that our townsfolk are tired and anxious and our tourists grumpy and frustrated.
Yet this is our high season, when most local businesses depend on their summer income to survive the coming year. Thus we must cater to tourists even in the midst of our own private grief. But, bizarre as it sounds, perhaps helping our visitors to celebrate their lives while we cope silently with our own painful circumstances might actually be healthy for us.
I am not advocating that family members and close friends of the recently departed suppress or postpone their grief. Those most affected need time to heal and must allow that process to occur naturally. We - the family, friends, acquaintances and colleagues of the recently departed - each have different coping methods that help us deal with each stage of grief.
But it really helps to know that even the deepest grief will evolve, from being our total focus to eventually becoming only a part of our everyday reality. We all need to create a place in our psyches for sadness and grief to express in a healthy way. Otherwise our outer lives would soon grind to a halt.
Ours is a summer destination resort, so our carefree tourists expect to eat, drink and be merry while they are here - as well they should! And each year we quintuple in size as visitors arrive to party on the beaches. Our townsfolk put a lot of effort into providing accommodation, entertainment, alcohol and nourishment for our visitors. And, usually, we revel in the festivities with them.
But this year, and with good reason, our locals are over-stressed and just NOT in a party mood!
Most of our population is elderly, and the death of those who have lived long lives is taken in stride. But since the end of July, our town has been rocked by 2 separate accidental deaths of local youngsters. And these premature deaths have saddened everyone in town. In addition, 5 people we personally know have had surgeries or been tested for serious illness in as many weeks. And my husband's local firm has had to cope with 5 separate work-related setbacks.
In addition to the pervasive sadness felt by locals, the choking reality of thick smoke drifting into our valley from several forest fires in BC and Washington State has frequently made it difficult for everyone to breathe. The end result is that our townsfolk are tired and anxious and our tourists grumpy and frustrated.
Yet this is our high season, when most local businesses depend on their summer income to survive the coming year. Thus we must cater to tourists even in the midst of our own private grief. But, bizarre as it sounds, perhaps helping our visitors to celebrate their lives while we cope silently with our own painful circumstances might actually be healthy for us.
I am not advocating that family members and close friends of the recently departed suppress or postpone their grief. Those most affected need time to heal and must allow that process to occur naturally. We - the family, friends, acquaintances and colleagues of the recently departed - each have different coping methods that help us deal with each stage of grief.
But it really helps to know that even the deepest grief will evolve, from being our total focus to eventually becoming only a part of our everyday reality. We all need to create a place in our psyches for sadness and grief to express in a healthy way. Otherwise our outer lives would soon grind to a halt.
Since childhood, I have empathized with people's feelings, even though I may not know them personally. My blotting-paper psyche has always absorbed the emotions of those around me, whether these were pleasant or painful. But no man (or woman) is an island!
So over the years, I perforce developed several coping techniques that have helped me understand and address the feelings of others, especially their grief. And I've learned that the solace that we seek is often found through meeting our own inner needs, as well as those of our friends and family circle.
Through years of study at university and beyond, my focus has been to understand the human psyche. When I was a child, my Mother taught me meditation and yoga. And my short time at Samye-Ling Buddhist Monastery served to deepen this practise. Without it, the many trials and tribulations of my own life would have been so much more difficult for this Psychic to endure.
Through art, music, dance and writing, in conjunction with meditation, I have consciously striven to transmute emotional pain into truth and beauty. After a lifetime of practising these arts, I have now developed an aura of calmness and serenity that enables me to comfort others in their time of grief, regardless of what kind changes began their painful process. For the death of an assured way of life can be as difficult, and as painful, as the death of a loved one. Yet, eventually, the cycles of life and death teach us all that change is, paradoxically, the only constant in life.
