Category: Emotional Health

Anyone who has lived in this country for any amount of time will be familiar with our culture of complaining. It is as entrenched as our culture of having lengthy conversations about the weather, often as a conversation starter or entrée that may or may not lead to meatier talk with more substance.

Sometimes we even combine these two cultural norms by complaining to anyone we have contact with, about the weather. We may then extend this to blaming the weather for anything we don’t like, including how we feel! This is not to detract from the very real condition Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) that arises in response to insufficient light for some systems to maintain a good enough mood.

Anyway, I was compelled to write this piece following my time sat in a local GP surgery awaiting an appointment (thank you God for the miracle of getting one – please note that God’s help is available to all who ask  – please also note that this does not instantly translate in to getting what you want when you want it. However, he is good at meeting our needs. Don’t take my word for it, try for yourself).

While waiting for my appointment, I observed the receptionist going about their work. They greeted all with an open, beaming smile and proceeded to inform, explain, acknowledge and assist all who approached them while maintaining a calm, professional, efficient manner. I was impressed. We all know the NHS is straining under the weight of more people trying to access it than they have resources to meet. Which must make it pretty challenging for all those working within such a reality to do what they can while maintaining a positive attitude. With varied results from the over strained system.

It occurred to me that GP receptionists often get stereotyped in unflattering ways, when we can’t get what we need from them. Being ill in any way is stressful enough without having to fight for help, or to find your way through administrative errors over appointment details. Illness is stressful and the NHS is over stretched and stressed. All of this makes for an incredibly challenging context for all, which can be made worse for us patients by a receptionist for whom everything is too much to do, or whose standard response is,

‘The computer says no’.

All of which makes those receptionists that go out of their way to ease an already difficult process, worth their weight in gold.

As I sat thinking about this, I scanned the waiting room for any sign of a visible process for flagging up good service. I spotted a notice board outlining the complaints/problems us patients have experienced along with the improvements implemented by the surgery to address them. But I couldn’t see any evidence of how to offer thanks when things go well.

I’m not against complaining as complaints are critical (no pun intended) to informing what processes need to be addressed and improved as well as preventing known mistakes from re-occurring. We probably all agree with the need to have complaints procedures in place. And I too have written a letter of complaint following a consultant appointment that left me worse at the end than I was at the start. There is a time for all things under the sun … and clouds. But we do need balance. We need to complain, and we need to compliment, for it is both sides of life that make it whole, balanced and most manageable. And personally, if I got heaps of complaints while doing my best in an under resourced service, and few, if any, thanks, I’m not sure how motivated I would feel to keep going. I see that the surgery is currently advertising for new receptionists. (I’m praying for more of the ‘worth their weight in gold’ type – no pressure to the candidates!).

I wondered how hard it would be to place a small box on the reception counter next to a pile of small, simple forms, to complete to give thanks for whatever service you particularly appreciated. And what impact that could have on those working behind the counter as well as those approaching it.

Life will always bring experiences we dislike and complain about, as well as those we like and don’t complain about, or even compliment, as well as everything in between. I wonder what it would take to develop a culture that is as forthcoming about what IS working, as what isn’t.

We all get to choose what kind of participant in life or patient in a surgery we want to be, or to practice becoming! One who just complains or one who compliments too depending on the experience.

As I reflect on all this, I am reminded that we all carry a set of rules/beliefs/shoulds inside of us, learned through culture and revealed through our actions. I realised that I wanted to feedback to the receptionist what I had observed about the way she approached us patients. But I didn’t. And I didn’t because there were people stood by the counter talking and somehow, I felt embarrassed that I would be judged for saying such a thing. As if there is a more subtle culture at work, at least within me if not others, that says English culture doesn’t openly thank or praise people. Similar but different to how so many people don’t tell those they love that they love them, or why, until reading their eulogy. What a crazy arse about face culture we practice at times! But, like all things, including us, we can change, and we can change culture.

In a similar vein, I once read a comment on the local FB page about a heart-warming interaction between residents (the details escape me – I blame perimenopause). But I remember that it warmed my heart! We need more of this I thought. There will always be reasons to complain but there will also always be reasons to be grateful and give thanks. It would seem to me that each one of us would need to make an active choice to praise what we appreciate as much as we complain about what we don’t, if we want to turn the tide and change culture.

This is my opening contribution …

PS when I spoke to a receptionist on the phone a few days later, I offered my feedback and suggestion. I am practicing doing something, even if it’s not what I really wanted to do, rather than nothing.

In recent weeks, I have been aware of four unexpected deaths. These remind me of my/our fragility/vulnerability/mortality.

Death, whether it is expected or unexpected, is not an easy reality to get our heads let alone our hearts around. Even when we expect someone to die, it’s as if no amount of time or knowing, could fully prepare us for the shock or surreal quality of it happening.

In England where we like to converse over the ever-changing extremes of our weather, we are not so comfortable or free flowing when it comes to talking about death or any of the difficulties surrounding it. This despite us all living with the knowledge that we and everyone we know, will die!

Death is so final and irreversible as to be quite incomprehensible. As humans we usually like to understand a concept but without experiencing death ourselves, we cannot. We can only witness and offer our presence and compassion to those who are dying, when we know this is happening.

Even when death is expected, every death can vary greatly. Like life, the way that humans go through death is deeply unique. If the death has been expected, us humans may navigate it in the way we navigated life, whether acknowledging and talking about what is happening, denying it, or a mix of both.

When my friend died earlier this year, as a trained therapist, she wanted to talk about it all, as it happened. And she asked me to bring her a book on Dying, by Elizabeth Kubler Ross, who was renowned for her work with the dying and her subsequent insights.

Deaths, like lives, are different. Some deaths are more peaceful than others. Some seem to choose their moment, whether preferring loved ones to be present or waiting for a moment alone to slip away.

For those left behind, there can be many mixed emotions when a loved one dies. These depend on the cause and lead up to the death, the death itself, the relationship with and to, the deceased and the beliefs around death. These emotions may include but are not limited to relief/regret/sorrow/guilt/disbelief/anger/shock/numbness etc.

Death is difficult.

However, it can be even more difficult when it is unexpected, sudden, and, or traumatic. Or it does not conform to our ideology around how we think death should be. This whether in relation to age, life situation/responsibilities/birth order within family/timing or whether it was expected via the presence of an indicating illness. All of which can complicate the grieving process. Without knowing, we cannot plan or prepare at all, we have no choice to say the things we want to, including goodbye.

I’ve written a lot about grief over the years and I’m going to include something here that I’ve written in an earlier blog.

“Death, loss and grief are painful. But it remains true that the only thing worse than grieving, is refusing to grieve. Sometimes it is by remaining connected to the pain in our hearts that we know we are still alive.”

As every death is unique, so too is every grieving process. Like all parts of life, it can be unhelpful to compare what we know of our own grieving, to what we see of others. Grief is deeply personal. There is no right or wrong way. But there are approaches that help or hinder, like with every other part of the human experience. If we deny our feelings, suppress them or send them away, they remain stuck inside where they seek release sometimes via physical illness.

If we try to intellectualise our sorrow away, we may also block its release rather than allow, accept and feel it, as it moves through our system. We may do this if we have internalised beliefs about how we think grief should be. Our culture is often not open to talking honestly about the pain, messiness or unpredictability of grief. Or the fact that it sometimes intensifies after the initial shock wears off or that it does not conform to nice, neat pre-determined timelines such as disappearing straight after the funeral.

Grief, like the absence of the loved one, is something we adjust and adapt to over time. There is no rushing or right duration. To feel the sorrow of the absence, is to honour the presence of the life lived and the love felt. In time we may re-connect with our internalised version of the person. We may be reminded of them in some way or sense what they would say to us in certain situations, which can be comforting. But it is all a process and a nonlinear one at that.

Similarly, we may render ourselves stuck and unable to release our sadness if we try to spiritualise it away. Grief impacts the whole system, heart, mind, spirit and body. So if we parrot out popular sayings to ourselves or others, we may stifle our sadness and hinder the grieving process.

I think top of the leader board here could be,

“But they’re in a better place now”.

A classic example of part of the picture parading as the whole picture.

As Christians we do believe that the deceased go to a place way better than this – one where there are no more tears – NB – inferring there are tears here!  As modelled by the Almighty via Jesus himself. And if crying is good enough for him, it’s good enough for us!

However, knowing that the deceased is in a place of no-suffering, does not eradicate the pain felt, tears (un)shed or suffering of those still here in a place where pain and tears are still an unavoidable part of the human experience. God has given us hearts that feel the whole range of emotions from joy to sorrow and everything in between.  And when we attempt to shut down our sorrow because, ‘they are in a better place’, implies we should be happy for them, but not sad ourselves, we probably prolong and complicate the grieving process.

We may also throw in the extremely popular saying,

“We can’t live by emotion alone.”

If taken out of context, we may forget that to intellectualise or spiritualise our emotions away entirely, is to silence the language of the heart. It is the heart that shows us we are still alive by the joy/sorrow or any other emotion that it feels.

We cannot live fully without emotion.

But like most experiences, it is not all one or all the other, ie live by emotion alone or entirely without emotion. The hearts capacity to feel is as important as the minds capacity to think, the body’s ability to hold and show us all it has endured, and the spirits ability to find peace/acceptance/surrender in situations that evoke the opposite!  (In theological theory – don’t ask me how!!)

Where feelings are often the easy target to demonise, they are essential to the health and aliveness of the whole system.  All our parts work best when in unity and harmony with each other. And that’s not easy for us humans, including this one!!

Grieving is hard – talking about it openly can help immensely.

We can also take heart that our difficulty in speaking about the hard human experiences like death, suffering and grief, goes right back to those fantastically flawed, encouraging human disciples!

When Jesus tries to talk to the disciples about his impending suffering and death, Peter basically tells him,

“…such terrible things could never happen to you Lord…”.

Jesus is not amused! And he does not beat around the bush when rebuking Peter. Jesus calls a spade a spade and models talking about life on life’s terms as opposed to those we may prefer. He models not wanting suffering, not knowing what would happen to him, not understanding what God was doing but, still surrendering his will to the one who’s ways, are not our ways. What a challenging template! And the rest as we say, is history; a part of our past that is very much alive within our present.

And while most of us like talking about and attempting to live life to the full, we can see that the human struggle to talk about the human struggle, is deeply embedded within the collective psyche, going right back to the days of the disciples.

Thankfully, due to a recent and growing body of research, it is now scientifically proven that the neuroplasticity of the brain, means it can change!!

Maybe now is the time to start addressing our human suffering by confronting rather than covering it up. We can learn to open up, not shut down, the hard conversations about death, dying, loss, endings, grief and all that causes us humans to suffer. By acknowledging not denying the hard experiences, we get to partner with the God who can transform our suffering into new learning, healing and growth. Until he calls us home.