Orientation

I have a friend whose son faced some monumental struggles in high school. She and her husband had tried a number of tactics at home to guide him. None was successful. They were desperate to get him the help he needed and landed on an outward bound-like program – where kids are sent from the comfort and shelter of home to a weeks-long outdoor experience that is intended to challenge them in a way that will build important life skills such as problem-solving, teamwork, communication. The hope is that they return to their families with a new-found self-confidence and outlook on life that will serve them as they face the tough task of growing up and out into this world. (One note – it wasn’t actually outward bound that they chose, so from this point on I’ll refer to the program as an outdoor re-education program).

Grief is like Life’s outdoor re-education program for you. 



It drags you kicking and screaming from a place that is very comfortable and familiar – a world that you’re pretty confident navigating – and  drops you into a place you could never have imagined going, what I have described as the Jungle of Despair. This jungle is dense. Its darkness is disorienting. In it you have no idea what it will take to survive. In the beginning, actually, you’re pretty certain that you won’t. After all, nothing in your life has prepared you to make your way in this world. And, yet, that is what you’re expected to do. With little experience or instruction, you must make life work in this new place.

My friend was told at the outset that her son’s program would be six-weeks long, or possibly longer, depending on his desire to take part­­­­­­. So kids show up, often against their will, and they’re sent out into the wilderness. For many of them, their first big idea is not to engage. Fine, I’ll go, they must be thinking, but I’m not going to do anything, learn anything, participate in anyway. Then the sun starts to set and cold creeps in and they maybe have an inkling that they could find some relief if they built themselves a fire. But some kids dig in. I don’t need a fire!

Of course they do. After that, when the sun rises on day two, they also need the strength and the emotional wherewithall to travel through rugged terrain day after day after day to a final destination that is miles away  -- one that they cannot even fathom in this initial phase – before they graduate and get to head home. 

The resistance to all of this is the biggest hurdle, but it’s not the only one. Success in this new setting will require a whole new skillset and an incredible amount of both emotional and physical hard work.

The parallels to grief are so striking. First, the reactions to the new setting evolve in the same way. From Why? Why am I here? Why do I have to do this? You can’t make me! to Fine, Ok, I’ll get up and take a look around. And then, finally, Ok I get it. I’m here for good. I guess I will have to find a way to make the best of it.

That alone is a very difficult phase. I describe my struggle to arrive at the decision to get up and ready myself to explore here and here.

Like the kids in outdoor re-education programs, I quickly realized that the decision to get up and face this new challenge, as overwhelming as that was, was only the beginning of a very treacherous journey for which I was woefully ill-prepared. The kids have specially trained counselors at the ready when they finally decide to participate. If I was going to make it,  I would need expert assistance as well. So I sought help from any resource I could find – first, a trained counselor, then books, support groups and the guidance of friends, old and new, who have themselves had to face the jungle. 

And then I set off, weary from the outset, but determined to find my way.