In 2001, we learned as a country what it feels like to be
really scared, really sad, really angry. It was a rough year. Some of us
experienced tremendous loss firsthand when loved ones perished at the hands of
terrorists. But even those of us far from "ground zero" were deeply
affected. What should we do to prevent sadness from following us intothe
future? How, exactly, should we grieve?
By Jenny Allen
Some women find happiness by taking off for exotic, far-flung places — think of Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Eat, Pray, Love, circling the globe. Gretchen Rubin, on the other hand, found it right at home. Rubin, a New York City lawyer turned writer, didn't want to roam; she had a husband she was crazy about, two young daughters, a lovely home, a close extended family, good friends, and a satisfying career. She had, in short, a grown-up life.
Which she loved — but, she admits,...
"When there is a national disaster such as Sept. 11th, or a
plane crash, we can reduce [our experience] to five losses -- of safety, trust,
freedom, control, and innocence -- plus we have a collective broken heart,"
says Russell P. Friedman, executive director of The Grief Recovery Institute, a
non-profit organization headquartered in Sherman Oaks, Calif. He has personally
spoken with more than 50,000 bereaved people and is co-author, with Institute
founder John W. James, of The Grief Recovery Handbook and When
For the majority of us -- those who did not lose a loved one in
the attacks, "the brain goes back over every loss we've ever had," says
Friedman. The grief we feel is founded in empathy, based on our own
experiences, even though they differ from the current situation. "As a
human being who has experienced loss, others' losses touch our hearts."
Our need to hold vigils, to create makeshift memorials,
"has less to do with the people who died than with the losses we've each
experienced individually in our lives." And while it is sad, it is also
positive. "What happened [Sept. 11] opened up our humanity to ourselves, if
only for a while," Friedman tells WebMD. The reason for these large
demonstrations is that we're all part of the family of humanity. It's proof
positive that we are not emotionally or spiritually dead. In that respect, it's
And for many of us, these rituals do help us work through our
pain and anxiety, put things in perspective, reach a sort of closure, and move
But what about those who were directly affected by the attacks?
Those who lost a child, a spouse, a best friend? And what about all of those
who have experienced a more 'run-of-the-mill,' untelevised personal loss? With
or without terrorism, parents die, children succumb to cruel diseases,
marriages end, jobs are lost.
As people born and raised in Western society, the way we deal
with these losses leaves a lot to be desired, says Friedman. In fact, it leaves
many of us haunted, and in real pain, for years. "Loss is inevitable, but
we're given no feasible structure with which to handle it," he says.
"The truth is, almost everyone in the western world, with
very few exceptions, is socialized with six major myths regarding grief,"
he says. These pervasive behaviors and attitudes are fully entrenched in our
psyches, "and in times of crisis, we go back to them." The problem is,
the myths don't help us. Indeed, they may deny our healing.