Grieving from Your Strengths

In Authentic Happiness, Seligman describes the meaningful life as one lived using "your signature strengths in service of something larger than you are" (page 249).  I've discussed that a bit upstream and will certainly come back again to the notion of a meaningful life.  But in this post, I want to take his statement in a bit different direction.

I think the healthiest grieving happens in the context of our signature strengths.  I found that dealing with my bereavement from the place of my strengths provided the most effective healing, the greatest sense of personal peace, and a real path forward out of the darkness.  Wallowing in my weaknesses made things worse and suggested to me that there might not be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Some of my strengths gather around curiosity and love of learning.  I studied grieving--the theology, psychology, sociology of it--for all it and I were worth.  And obviously, I continue that pursuit.  Some people gently suggested that this was an effort to control what had happened in my life.  Of course it was!  That's part of what study is all about.  Only the most arrogant of students ignore that neurotic element in the love of learning.  Having a neurosis isn't a bad thing.  The question is, how do you use it for good?

I wanted to take my experience, learn everything there was to learn, wrestle it to the ground, and say, "There, I understand you much better."  I am doing that, and since learning is one of my strengths, that process helps me to heal and move forward.  Other folks may have perseverance, for example, as a strength.  These are, I suspect, the folks for whom waiting and making no changes for a year works.

That was never a real option for me.  My strengths lead me to the future, to change, to adventure and risk, and to challenge.  Whenever I let myself get stuck in inaction, I felt like I wanted to die.  When I could learn something, try something, take a step in some new direction, then I felt alive again.

Loss and grief debilitated me at many points.  When that happened, I learned what I could do.  First, I could take a walk.  Second, I could meditate for a while.  Third, I could go learn something.  I don't know that such a path would work for someone else, unless that person had my strengths.  But I worked and works for me.

Another cluster of strengths for me orbit around the whole notion of creativity.  Writing is an important outlet for me.  In the depths of trauma, I wrote poetry.  I'll share some of that here at some points.  Most of the time, I write rather dry academic prose.  I know it may not stimulate anyone else, but creating a new paragraph about something that interests me is a life-giving activity.  I always feel better.

I think that if I were to engage in bereavement coaching now, I would begin by inviting my client to take a signature strengths inventory.  I like the inventories at www.authentichappiness.org and especially the VIA Character Strengths survey.  If my client had the emotional energy, I would encourage her or him to read Authentic Happiness or Seligman's newer book, Flourish.  Then we would work together to design some life activities that would enhance my client's strengths.

In the Culture of Bereavement Orthodoxy, I think this program might be labeled as a form of denial.  If one finds that to be a useful label, so be it.  Freudian expelling of and expounding on all manner of feelings in a cathartic emotion-puke session is not all that helpful.  In fact, it may make things worse.    More on that downstream somewhere.  Choosing a path forward based on personal strengths is a path toward hope-based action.

If you haven't taken a strengths-based inventory, the authentic happiness web site is free for a simple registration.  Your anonymous data is included in the growing academic database that continues to fuel research in this whole area.  If you would like some engage in some conversation or coaching on how to use those signature strengths, don't hesitate to be in touch.