From Research to Reality

I haven’t been able to post everyday between sporadic internet service and the business of the conference. But the conference ended yesterday and the internet is working!  The conference was informative, I learned about the many facets of research on how to determine which services are best for victims. The workshop I presented at and chaired was with two others, Paulina a human rights lawyer in Mexico, who talked about the violence in her country and how the new Victims Rights Law is an attempt by the government to assist victims of the rampant organized crime there, resulting from the army crackdown on drug cartels.  The other was Sharlena, a Taiwanese woman, working at a center in Copenhagen for torture victims. Her presentation explained how local community organizations joined together to help victims of trafficking in Bangladesh. They are both doing such valuable and good work.  My presentation was about the individual victim–you and I and what I know from both my own experience and as a psychotherapist works for us. It was interesting to move from the state and local response to the individual and from pure research to the human experience. We are the victims, we know what works and what doesn’t–just ask us!  I left the conference with many good ideas and thoughts about the field of criminology, victimology and human rights. What I always find so sad is the human toll of brutality. How is it that we do such terrible things to one another? It can become easy to despair, to give up–and many of you know this from your own personal experiences of grief and loss. But we cannot give up–we must all do our own work, first of survival, then of transformation, and then finally, of giving hope to others.  On that note, it’s a peaceful, beautiful day here in Holland and the beach beckons!  See you all later!

Peace

This side of the moon

Tonight, I had dinner with colleagues on the beach near Den Haag as The Hague is called in Dutch. The sandy shore is lined with restaurants and because it is chilly during the nighttime, they have open fires burning in charcoal containers that people can gather around and watch the sun set on the North Sea. The crescent new moon appeared in the night sky and all along the beach, I could see the fires burning. It reminded me that the spark of the ones we love still burn on the shores of the eternal sea, somewhere in the world beyond. The fires we see here are to remind us that the flame never dies, it burns so brightly in the place beyond the crescent moon. We can never feel truly alone when we stay close to the fire.  We are still here on this side of the moon and should enjoy the life that is left for us to live. We are reminded by nature of the ones we love, and while we are here, we live to good purpose knowing that one day we will meet again–until then live and love.

Peace

Here in The Hague

I’m writing today from The Hague, the city of peace as it’s called. It hosts many of the world-wide organizations that are engaged in the issues of peace and justice today. It’s a truly charming city and the Dutch people are warm and welcoming. They like to ride their bikes on well appointed bike lanes and sit outside enjoying the many open-air cafe’s and restaurants. I am staying in the section of the city called Scheveningen in a very modest and simple hotel that has a view of the North Sea, which is lovely, but very cold!  I am attending a conference held by The World Society of Victimology and Victim Support Europe and Victim Support Netherlands. It is deeply encouraging to see so many people working on behalf of the rights and needs of Victims worldwide. This includes victims of crime, torture, abuses of power and conflict as well as human trafficking and the many other ways humans brutalize one another. While much of the focus is on legal rights and academic research–there are people such as myself who are working directly with victims, and are victims ourselves. I am presenting a workshop on Trauma and Resiliency–topics which I write about every day in this blog. So many of you reading this can speak to these issues because they are not abstract theories to you, but real, lived experiences. I wish you could all be here with me and we could share our many faceted experiences with everyone. But I will try my best to represent all of us and hope that everyone here continues to do their good work on the behalf of all victims throughout the world.

Peace

Sweet Surrender

Grief is a hard taskmaster–cruel, relentless and ever-present. The trauma of our loss has predisposed us to fear, insecurity and mistrust of the basic goodness of life. After all, how can we trust when such a thing could happen? We lose our sense of safety, security and most of all guidance.  We feel these three things have been taken from us, and even if we know they exist, we find it hard to trust in them.  We are tossed on the tempests of the sea of grief. We try bravely to swim, but we don’t know where we are going. We fight against the waves until we are sick from exhaustion. We feel unsafe, our security gone forever.  But what if we could just let go and surrender to something greater than ourselves in this vast ocean.What if we held on to the lifeline of love to see us through? This sweet surrender is not giving up or something born out of despair. No, it is calling upon the shred of trust that still remains and holding on to the rope that connects us to the one thing that will save us and that is Love.  The love we have for each other, for the ones we lost, and for the one that cares for us all, living and dead. Surrender, trust, believe that you will be cared for and safety, security and guidance will be yours.

Today I will be traveling to Europe to speak at a conference in The Hague. I won’t be settled until sometime tomorrow, so won’t be posting until Monday. See you then!

Peace

The Clouds on Your Horizon

A father wrote to me about losing his only son because a drunk driver took his life. I could feel the sorrow in his words.  He said that the clouds of grey were right on top of him. He was referring to a story a friend told me in the first months after my son was murdered. She said that 27 years after the death of her daughter, the clouds that once hung on every horizon, were now distant clouds that framed the day–and on certain days, like birthdays or anniversaries or holidays, they surrounded her once again–but she lived a good life now, and there were many  sunny days of gratitude  As she told me, I listened, but could not imagine a day when that would be true for me. I, like the father who wrote to me, lived in the grey clouds of grief. They were all-present and all-consuming. They followed me wherever I went and they were full of rain and piercing winds. But what she told me did come true. Today, almost 13 years later, the clouds do not suffocate me. There is room in my life for the sun and the joy it brings with it. Yet, they are still there–always in the background, the shadow of sorrow and the clouds of pale grey. They linger on the edges of the life I once knew and every so often, they come upon me and I like you dear friends, want to give up. But I know that they will pass and the sunny days of gratitude will come and I, like you all, go on living as best I can. So for those of you in the early times, the heavy clouds upon you, take heart and have courage, you are with us and together we live, even with the grey clouds upon us.

Peace

Kathleen is the author of A Grief like no other, surviving the violent death of of someone you love. Her website is www.kathleenohara.com

 

Joy Cometh in the Morning

This morning the sun dawned on a new day–bright and full of hope. Strange, isn’t it, how one day can be so grey and full of despair and another can be so clear and promising. It reminds me of the words of a psalm: “Darkness lasts the whole night, but joy cometh in the morning.”  Joy, you say, how can I have joy when my loved one is no longer with me? Yes, dear friends, I know what you are saying. Joy has been taken from us, we mourn in the darkness of night and our hearts are weary with sadness. And in the beginning it seems like that is all there ever is or will be.  In many ways, the days ahead will always have a shadow of grey, even when the darkness breaks and the sun shines. But we learn to live with the shadows, the grey clouds that color even the brightest horizon. And maybe because of the darkness that lasts the whole night, we are actually able to feel the joy of the new morning. It is not the easy joy of surface happiness but that which comes out of the exquisite pain of sorrow. So, today on this bright and sunny day, let joy break into the clouds on your horizon after the long night of darkness. Be grateful for the light and the promise it brings.

Peace

The Breath of Life

Do you believe that something of your loved one remains after death? This is precisely the question we humans have asked since the first death. We wonder how it is that the spirit, the fire, the thing that animated the ones we love could be extinguished after the last breath they take. The grief we feel is the longing for the warmth of their fire, the closeness of the very essence of what made them a unique human being, known and loved by us.  Is it truly possible that after the breath leaves them, they are no more? Many of us think not. We believe that something of their spirit, their fire lives on. Perhaps a clue is in the ancient Hebrew word Ruach, meaning breath, wind, mind, spirit–it is literally the breath of God breathed into humans, making them like God. Ruach is the animating force, the spirit in all of us and when our loved ones take their last breath, Ruach returns to the source on the current of air all around us. We are surrounded by the spirit, the breath of all people, living and dead.  We breathe and live, we take our last breath and our spirit leaves our body, but lives on in the eternal circulating breath of life.

The Paranormal and Beyond

I was speaking with a young woman who lost her fiance and father of her child to violence. She told me how she felt him close to her, and how his young nephew was waking up saying things that only he would say. She said that while he was alive, he was very interested in what we call the paranormal, or things that cannot be explained. Things like seeing or hearing or sensing things that may be considered “spirit” or otherworldly. He believed in this paranormal world and had a felt-sense of it. I believe that when we lose someone very close to us, the veil that separates the material world from the spiritual is drawn aside, more porous, and we can more easily access it. This is why so many of us experience things that cannot be explained any other way. Perhaps it is true what scientists tell us. They say we are only one universe in many and there are others constantly moving around us, we just can’t see them. I believe that death opens a door to these other universes and one day, we will discover them. Right now, the only way to gain access is either through our own death, the death of someone we love, or because of a gift we or others possess. Whatever you believe, it is not unreasonable to think that these other universes exist–and the spark of fire that lived within the one you love now exists there. For many of us, this belief helps us cope with unbearable loss. Religions and spiritual traditions reinforce these beliefs and science will try to prove it. What ever you believe, it is a comfort to think that our loved ones still live, in some form, somewhere and are closer than we can ever truly know. Please share your thoughts and beliefs on this and maybe together we help each other understand the great mystery of life beyond the universe we call home.

Peace

Kathleen is the author of A Grief like no other, surviving the violent death of of someone you love. Her website is www.kathleenohara.com

 

The Window of Your Heart

This May day is grey and rainy–yesterday’s blue skies a distant memory, like things that once were but have passed. Grief is like that. Long stretches of grey days with the happiness of the past like the fragile flowers of spring. It is easy to think that grey days are all there will ever be. We wonder, will it always be this grey? Will happiness ever come again?  How can it be anything else–we cannot see beyond this day and imagine a brighter, happier time. I agree that in the early times, this is one of the hardest feelings to cope with. The despair of the grey days. Lost in a fog of unknowing when and where there might be some happiness for us. This is why hope is one of the greatest human qualities we possess. The hope that one day the grey days will give way to the sun that once was banished from your life. The hope that the seeds of happiness will grow in a broken heart. And the greatest hope of all–that one day you will see your loved one again in the world beyond. This gentle quality of hope needs to be nurtured by your willingness. That is why we start with the flame of one candle to light the dark. And then we keep lighting candles every day in the window of our heart.  Though we may not believe, we can nurture hope that the grey day will pass and we will know happiness.

Peace

Kathleen O’Hara is the author of A Grief Like No Other, surviving the violent death of someone you love. Her website is www.kathleenohara.com

Flowers From Heaven Today

Today is Mother’s Day in the USA. We think about our mothers, still with us and those who have passed and honor the place they will always have in our hearts. We celebrate the many gifts we continually receive from the life they gave to us. When they gave birth to us, they could not have known that for many of us, our own mothering would be so painful. Those of us who have lost children wonder how it is that a flower of our womb could be so carelessly destroyed. How the great gift we birthed was so cruelly taken from us by any of the fateful things that happen. On this Mothers Day, I think of my small, sweet child and his smile that was like the sun and I have soft memories of how precious he was. I realized several years after his passing, that no one or no thing could ever take those memories from me–and that brought me some small peace in the turmoil of missing. Oh, how we want eternity here on earth with the ones we love. We imagine that somehow, earth will mimic heaven and life will be eternal. This, dear friends, is not what happens here in this material world. Those we love will pass, if not on one day, then another. In particular, we hope our children will live on, beyond us and not die before we do. Yet, even though they may pass before us, they do live on, although not in the form we would wish. They live on in the eternal life of the spirit and are always with us. We who are mothers, give birth to eternity.  This gift cannot be destroyed, even by death. I know that for those of you in your first years of loss, this is scant comfort. But please take this into your heart–your child still lives and sends you flowers from heaven today, the colors will never fade, their beauty always with you.

Peace

Kathleen O’Hara is the author of A Grief Like No Other, surviving the violent death of someone you love. Her website is www.kathleenohara.com