Reading: from Tough Transitions: Navigating Your Way through Difficult Times by Elizabeth Harper Neeld, PhD an essay from With Purpose and Principle, Edited by Edward A. Frost, p. 97

Life gives all of us a curriculum. What we glean from our experiences ….and sharing this knowledge is what makes us a community.

I learned this personally a number of years ago when my young husband, in perfect health, dropped dead one late July afternoon. I found my way out of that undefined, empty country only because of the generosity of people around me who told me their stories and gave me their clues. From these others’ experiences, I made my own map for moving through and out of the territory [of tough transitions]….

Like everyone else, I didn’t get just one chance to learn about tough transitions. They do seem to come in all shapes and sizes. And we seem never to get to the end of them. There’s changing careers, moving to another city (or another country), losing a job, taking care of (and then losing) parents, being left by someone we had committed to or ourselves doing the leaving. There are the kids moving out (or back in), our own aging, the retirement account crashing, and [life threatening illnesses]. There’s changing careers, having a baby, blending two families, and retiring….There’s death, disaster, and despair. Yes, I’m afraid we all know what it is like to live in what seems like at times nothing but a series of—or worse, a set of simultaneous—tough transitions. (p.20)

Feel free to put your memories of your own tough transitions into the words of the next hymn (which, dear Reader, was “Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen.”

Sermon

We are never more aware of an interior self than when we face a devastating loss. We built our world of expectations over our lifetime of observations; this is our “reality.” As a nation, we have had a certain optimistic reality. In recent modern times, the event of 9/11 in the year 2001 shook us all deeply and we each responded in different ways. We also responded as a whole in the way the nation gathered in ceremonies around the flag. Even those of us who are skeptical of nationalistic expressions saw that the flag was simply a rallying point, a place and space in which to put grief and confusion.

I wonder how it is for you now almost five years later when you read of an incident from that time. A few days ago, I read of a woman who lost her daughter in the World Trade Center and I noticed a lump rising in my throat. I was surprised at myself. Perhaps I thought that 9/11 was behind me. Clearly, the magnitude of that tragedy lives on in me and, I suspect, it does in you as well. That experience was a national transition for us all. “Transitions are complex; the human being and the human spirit are complex. We deal with tough transitions at many dimensions, so nothing can be boxed and tidy.” (p.26, Neeld) Since 9/11, it is likely that national policies have added to the complexity of our emotions around the tragedy. Our assumptions about who we are as a nation have been sorely tested in the years since 2001.

An incident in my life from my corporate world experience has stayed with me for over a decade: the behavior of our admirable company Director, Amy. She had always worked a 10-hour day but I began to notice that she was there when I returned in the evening and weekends to make up the time I had taken to do volunteer work in the schools. Also, she was outside smoking a lot and I had never seen her smoking before. In pep rallies, she no longer spoke to us and she rarely smiled any more. I asked one of the managers if Amy was okay. A sad look came over his face and he said, “Amy’s partner has left her and has taken a position in Hawaii.” Amy’s long-time relationship with a co-worker was famously appreciated amongst us and I especially enjoyed seeing them strolling arm in arm at company picnics; they were a great couple.

Amy’s very long work hours continued for over two years. This was no doubt how she dealt with her devastating loss. Years later, I realize that Amy’s assumptive world, the world of expectations she had counted on, had collapsed. Long working hours and excessive smoking were how she dealt with her immediate loss. I remember her forlorn figure smoking outside the back door of the parking lot. She was no doubt part of my own assumptive world of happy couples. I wanted to say something to her but she was several layers of management higher than me and it didn’t seem appropriate. Now I wish I had at least baked her some cookies and left them anonymously on her desk.

Knowing how to respond to the tough transitions of others is not easy. Experts tell us being a good listener is a no-fail strategy and avoiding platitudes like “Time heals all wounds” or “This too shall pass” unless the grieved one says it and then we should nod our heads and perhaps lay a hand on his or her or his shoulder.

Experts say that the first throes of a tough life transition is the “responding stage” when a person’s emotions can be numb or haywire. There is no one way to handle it but experts are agreed that we should slow down and allow ourselves the range of feelings and emotions to flow as they will. They warn us that the accident rate is exceptionally high amongst people who have suffered a tough life transition. (p.49 Neeld)

Dr. Elizabeth Neeld has created a sort of map—The Terrain of Touch Transitions—of how the life terrain feels following a devastating transition, even one we might have chosen, such as a new job in another state or country. (A copy of the map is attached to the printed copy of this sermon.) The first thing to realize is that the emotions cause the chemistry of our bodies to go wild and in emergency mode. (p. 33, Neeld) These can interfere with decision-making, sleeping, eating, even balance. This is why the experts advise us not to make important decisions soon after a loss or other transition and to slow down and be patient and kind with yourself. Also, the effects of losing a job or a home can be similar to that of losing a loved one.

There is some surprising advice for helping to heal the first throes of tragic transition. Here is part of a letter from Neeld’s book of the great psychologist C.G. Jung:

Dear N.,

I am sorry you are so miserable….I would seek out one or two people who seemed amiable and would make myself useful to them….I would raise animals and plants and find joy in their thriving. I would surround myself with beauty—no matter how primitive and artless—objects, colors, sounds. I would eat and drink well….I would wrestle with the dark angel until he dislocated my him. For he is also the light and the blue sky which he withholds from me.

Anyway, that is what I would do. What others would do is another question, which I cannot answer.… With cordial wishes, As ever, C.G. Jung

Grief counselors today advise trying music, art and colors, poetry, nature, gardening. Dr. Neeld advises listening to the songs of Emmylou Harris, Mahalia Jackson, Hymns like Amazing Grace, and a CD called “Classic Weepies.” They also advise the company of those you find comforting, even Internet Chat Rooms. She speaks of Monet’s painting called “Water Lilies” in the museum of Modern Art in New York City; this sounds wonderfully healing to me. Ceremonial rites (such as celebration of life services in our tradition) can be helpful as well as uplifting words. (By the way, I once did a ritual for a woman who lost a child through miscarriage ten years before. She said this was very healing for the loss of miscarriages is hardly ever acknowledged much.)

In the face of tragedy and loss, faith in God can be shaken. I am always amazed to hear people say, “How could God let this happen?” We have plenty of models for this kind of thinking in the Old Testament. Last week we read the story of King David when God punishes him for his unfaithful behavior with Bath-Sheba and declares through Nathan the Prophet that his child by Bath-Sheba will die. David cries for days. What about all the babies that die when no misbehavior was committed? Did God cause that, too? If so, what would that say about God? Does God commit evil acts?

Historically, Unitarianism and Universalism has not been able to view God as the one who acts in history making this and that happen and allowing tragedy and the harm of innocents. They have instead looked to the philosophy, “The rain falls on the righteous and unrighteous.” God, or Spirit, or the Creative Force of the universe is a creative, perhaps neutral but loving energy that is part of All That Is in the drama of our lives. We cannot explain away tragedies by saying, “It is God’s will.” Or, “Why does God do this to me?” Joys and sorrows are in the natural course of life, unfortunately for the sorrows part.

Speaking of faith, perhaps you have heard the story of the Minneapolis couple decided to go to Florida to thaw out during a particularly icy winter. They planned to stay at the same hotel where they spent their honeymoon 20 years before. Because of their hectic schedules, it was difficult to coordinate their travel schedules. So, the husband left Minneapolis and flew to Florida on Friday, and his wife was flying down the following day. The husband checked into the hotel, and unlike years ago, there

was a computer in his room, and he decided to send an email to his wife. However, he accidentally left out one letter in her email address, and without noticing his error, sent the email to the wrong address.

Meanwhile...somewhere in Houston... a widow had just returned home from her husband's funeral. He was a Minister who was called “home to glory” after suffering a heart attack. The widow decided to check her email, expecting messages from relatives and friends. After reading the first message, she screamed and then fainted. The widow's son rushed into the room, found his mother on the floor, and then glanced up and saw the computer screen which read:

To: My Loving Wife

Date: Friday, October 13, 2005

Subject: I have Arrived!

Dearest Love:

I know you are surprised to hear from me. They have computers here now, and you are allowed to send email to your loved ones. I have just arrived and have been checked in. I see that everything has been prepared for your arrival tomorrow, and look forward to seeing you then. Hope your journey is as uneventful as mine was. P S Sure is horribly hot down here!!

Humor can help in tough transitions as well! A tough life transition is not a place but a process. Though life goes on when we may have no “wind in our sail” so to speak, we can at least benefit from our friends and loved ones being there for us as a loving presence while we find our way through the process. When a tough transition does occur, a friend in grief may well not be able to go to a library to check out a book on grief. They actually may not be capable of the act of reading and retaining information. But if the community surrounding the one in transition can be know about the transition, we can at least form the healing community, healing by its presence and understanding.

In her book Tough Transitions, Dr. Elizabeth Neeld, describes not only the numb, response of the first throes of tough transitions, but the subsequent stage of reviewing one’s life, recalling memories and raising questions of renewal and assessing the good things that one still has. Eventually, the person will be able to ask, “What has my life been and what can I do about my life situation now?” The person’s creativity may be able to operate and more healing activity may be able to go on. At some point, the person will move to reorganize his or her life and begin the process of creating a new terrain, a new reality, to find meaning in and believe in.

I know that we have concentrated primarily on losing a loved one, but these stages are equally important for job loss or two families blending their lives and finding a new meaning in being together and also making a new set of expectations. Eventually, all will have created a new reality together.

The advice that Dr. Neeld gives is similar to the advice that spiritual teachers give us when facing change. One teacher advises to get used to being and not doing, examine the content of our minds, meditate and pray, clear old habits and addictions, and make plans to gather supportive community around us. (Stevens, August 2004) Sending love to one in a rough transition may break through like a welcome light or like a prayer.

When all is said and done, we are first and foremost relational creatures. For people in tough transitions, community will eventually have a larger part in developing a new terrain of meaning and expectations. By being aware of the psychological and physiological aspect of tough transitions, we can help our friends and loved ones through these times. We can laugh and cry together.

References

The following has inspired and informed this sermon:

Neeld, Elizabeth Harper, PhD. Tough Transitions: Navigating Your Way Through Difficult Times, New York: Warner Books, 2005.

Stevens, Jose PhD. Article on change in Pivotal Resources Journal, August 2004.