5 Ways to Stay Connected When You’re Grieving

A revised version of this article appears in Agape Healthcare’s winter newsletter.

In the post-holiday doldrums, winter can envelope us in a blanket of blah-ness, a shroud of not-wanting-to that leads us in circles, from bed to chair to couch, and back again, as we contemplate resolutions and the rest of the year ahead, but fail to feel motivated. This is a hard time of year for many, even for those who aren’t grieving, who don’t officially suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder, and who don’t experience a more organic mood disorder. Amidst all of these factors, it’s important to discern the difference between the natural and human desire to slow down during winter, and the trap of something more serious that can lead us towards isolation and depression.

Humans are naturally affected by the seasons, in particular by changes in amount of daylight, and most people see these affects in at least small ways. Sleeping more, going out less, and being more introspective are all ways in which people may see changes in their habits and personalities during winter time. Many people will remark that they also crave comfort foods more during the winter. If all of this sounds familiar to you, and the extent of your “symptoms” goes no further, then you can revel in the fact that you are human, and that life offers a built-in time for you to slow down and take stock of things.

If you experience more intense changes, such as a drop in your mood, missing work or other commitments, sleep disturbances, or a lack of appetite, you should consider talking with someone about what you’re experiencing. The stress of the death of a loved one can make even the most resilient person feel out of sorts and depressed, and mourning when we naturally want to retreat inside can make for a very difficult winter.

Although there is a certain element of mourning during wintertime that is simply a difficult part of life, there are ways to ensure that the process doesn’t feel unmanageable or too much out of your control. With some consistent commitment on your part and a support system in place, it’s possible for this winter season to feel less difficult and more meaningful.

One of the keys to staying afloat is staying connected. When we begin to feel apathy take over, or depression creeping in, chances are good that we’re also letting go of some important connections in our lives. Connection can be a lifeline, but it can also be the source of inspiration or meaning in our lives. Here are 5 ways that we can get connected and stay connected this winter:

Find a way to stay connected with the person or pet who died. This could be as simple as having a “linking object” with you at all times, such as a ring or other piece of jewelry, or another object that the person had with them often. Or, this could be a daily ritual of talking with your loved one, writing to them, or simply saying hello to a picture of them. Other ways to stay connected can look like visiting a place they liked, every week; visiting their grave site or the place where their ashes were spread, on a regular basis. Whatever this looks like for you, make a habit of it. Do something at least every week that will maintain this connection and act as an outlet for the feelings you continue to have for the person. Death does not mean that we stop loving someone, or feeling things for and about them. It’s important that we express these feelings, just as we would with someone who is alive.
Call at least one person whom you trust every week. Ideally, we all have at least one person who is trustworthy and who we feel comfortable talking with about our feelings or happenings in our life. Not necessarily a friend, this can be a trusted pastor or counselor even. Get into the habit of having tea/coffee, or a meal with this person, or with different people, every week. The simple act of socializing, in whatever mundane form, has been shown to have a positive affect on mood, and so even a 5-minute phone call can help with a bad day.
Find a source of inspiration for yourself and engage with this every week. For some people inspiration lies in the spiritual, or the connection with something greater than the individual. For others inspiration comes from beauty and the reflection of life it offers, whether that lies in nature, in art, or in music. And still for others inspiration comes from pursuits: intellectual, physical, or otherwise. This can look like attending church every week, walking in nature on a regular basis, going to a museum, listening to a favorite album, going to the symphony, or even reading a book that piques your curiosity. The bottom line with this one is that we find something that connects us with something bigger than ourselves; something meaningful that could invoke that “wow” feeling on the inside.
Stay connected with your body. Your body holds as much of your experiences as your mind does, and when you lose connection with your body, you’re in turn dis-connecting with a very large part of yourself. Our bodies also need movement (in whatever form) to stay healthy and well regulated, and this includes the emotional realm. Connecting with your body doesn’t have to mean exercising per se, although exercising is a great way to connect. Simply sitting and being aware of different parts of your body, taking a short walk, getting a massage, or wheeling your chair outside for a little while, can all help you to notice your body more, and therefore help you to connect with all of you and what’s happening inside you. Try doing something body-related every day.
Disconnect from technology. More and more, people are finding that the steady and consistent stream of information coming at us via smartphones and the latest developments in technology are actually impeding our ability to connect with each other, zapping any extra time we have, and ultimately compromising our ability to be happy. Social media sites have been shown to exacerbate feelings of loneliness and the self-esteem-eroding habit of comparing oneself with others. With the advent of a National Day of Unplugging, Technology Shabbat, and other movements to reduce or eliminate the amount of time spent focused on the influx of information in our lives, our society seems to be understanding that boundaries with technology are beneficial. If you’re one of the many who is consistently tethered to your iPhone or smartphone, or you find that you’re compulsively checking for new messages or new information coming in throughout the day, try a technology fast for a day, or a day every week, or even try reducing the amount of technology you own. When it comes to getting connected in a way that will actually bring community, joy, and health to your life, seeing or talking with a live person matters.

Wilderness Therapy

I spent last week in the wilderness with an individual client, guiding this person through three days of backpacking near the Continental Divide, a day of whitewater rafting on the Arkansas River, and two days of climbing in the St. Vrain Canyon near Boulder, CO. It was an incredible experience for many reasons, and most of all because the amount of deep, inner work accomplished by this client was enormous. The same amount and depth of work in a traditional office setting would have taken months, and the quality of that work would look and feel very different.

Wilderness therapy is a modality of therapy based on the premise that the outdoors and many outdoor activities allow a person to drop into a deeper, more authentic place in themselves, which then allows for the person to explore challenges and issues in a more unencumbered way. Add in provocative activities like climbing, rafting, and skiing, and many people find that they have to be more present in their bodies while experiencing high levels of anxiety or fear. All of this amounts to the perfect setting for someone to practice working with intense emotions, trust, receiving support, giving support, connection, and many other themes.

If you’ve ever had a “peak experience,” or have even spent a significant amount of time camping or backpacking, you understand some of the inherent benefit in being outside and off the grid for a while. To different people it is different things, yet we probably all can say that there is something very significant that happens after the first few days of being in the wilderness.

Our nervous systems are sensitive, and are tracking things around and inside us constantly… noise, movement, thoughts, sensations, etc. Living in a world where the norm is to get in a car and drive down a highway at 65MPH; arrive at an office where there is constant input via email, texts, the phone, and in-person conversations (sometimes within seconds of each other); make decisions about everything from which type of coffee to drink, whether or not to fire an employee, to budgetary decisions with far-reaching implications; eat meals en route, at a desk, or not at all; commute dozens of miles to work, to pick up the kids, to run errands, every day; to field the challenges of relationships and children, every day; it’s no wonder that our collective cortisol levels are consistently elevated in this country. Chronically high levels of stress hormones, including cortisol, have been linked to many diseases, depression, and high levels of inflammation in the body. Simply put, we are a nation (among many) experiencing chronic and profound levels of stress, every day.

We are also chronically, and tragically, detached from nature. And from our true natures. To watch the wind quake the leaves of an aspen tree, to be lulled to sleep by the faint sound of a stream, to watch the mystical path of the stars across the sky every night; these are the noises, and movements, and sensations that can heal our bodies and minds. We are an integral part of the system of animals, plants, and natural processes around us, and we need these things if we are to be truly healthy. So go sleep outside, watch the stars move across the sky, feel the cool air on your face in the morning, and worry only about how you might be able to do that more often.

Further Reading:

The Heavy Cost of Chronic Stress, The New York Times, December 17, 2002

What is Ecopsychology? by John Davis, Ph.D.

The Voice of the Earth: An Exploration of Ecopsychology, by Theodore Roszak

Therapeutic Wilderness Adventures with Amy Winchester, MA, LPC and HealingQuest

Writing For Better Health

Was there a time in your life when you retreated, to your room or somewhere that was your sanctuary, and you grabbed your pen and opened up your diary… and you wrote? And you didn’t care what it sounded like or whether you had good penmanship or if your grammar was any good at all? All you cared about was writing your innermost secrets — spilling the beans — and the fact that you had a secret and sacred place to put all of these complicated thoughts about life. Maybe you were 6, maybe you were 15, maybe you do this now, and you’re 50.

My first diary had a lock on it. I had the key in my pocket most of the time. I was very concerned with How to Do This Diary Thing. I wrote about the dog and the cats, I’m sure, and the whole time thought about the fact that there must be a right way to do this and somehow I would figure it out. Despite my angst, it became a very simple thing for me to rely on when I was overflowing with emotions that were confusing and heavy (i.e., at 16 years old). The idea of right or wrong in writing is hard to let go of; it was hard for me to let go of; yet to use it as a tool, or a conduit, for emotional healing we must approach it in a different way.

Journaling, or therapeutic writing, is something I recommend to many of my clients who are looking for a way to deal with, and manage, reactions or emotions when they have no one around who can be a sounding board. It’s especially useful in a couple where one person needs time to process emotional events, and the other person only feels more and more anxious with more space and time before talking about it. The person who seemingly needs to talk about it now can use the time to write through their experience, thereby paying attention to themselves and their emotions (rather than their partner’s), processing these emotions in a healthy way, and possibly even being able to reduce their anxiety even more.

The trick to therapeutic writing is to, as much as possible, remove the editor from the process and allow thoughts to flow in a stream of consciousness. The editor is a hard habit to break. Especially for those of us who are perfectionistic, the editor is our sadistic lover… we rely on her for rewards, and when we do good, it feels so good… and when we do bad, well, I guess we like the pain. If this is the case for you, try something new! See what it would be like to just write and not care if you misspell a word, or if your sentence is running on. See what it would feel like to write not for the end result, but rather for the process of opening the vault inside and exploring for treasure. You may be surprised to find some relics, or even that spontaneous poems flow from the tip of your pen. A guaranteed outcome of this type of non-judgmental writing is an increase in creativity. Asking the editor for some time off can really help you to open up and think outside the box, and creativity is all about thinking in new ways.

Writing really works. James Pennebaker, at the University of Texas at Austin, has conducted studies on therapeutic writing in which participants write for 20 minutes consecutively about a period of emotional upheaval, for four days in a row. He found that writing about an event for this limited period of time increased immune function, increased the ability to manage anger in men who reported problems with anger, and decreased rates of respiratory illness, among other things. The key, Pennebaker found, lies in decreasing inhibition. People who conceal more tend to have more health problems, and writing about things, whether big or little, can help us to feel like we’re not holding on so tightly.

How? The guidelines for expressive writing are simple:

Write for at least 15 minutes per day, for 4 consecutive days.
Don’t seek feedback… write for yourself alone.
Write without your internal editor as much as possible.
Write about what is bothering you, whatever that is.

After some practice with this, you can play around with switching perspective, from the first person to the third person. Write about an event or situation in the first person, take a break, and then write about the same situation from the third person. The switch creates emotional distance, and in some cases deeper compassion, and helps us to look at an event from a different perspective. You may be surprised at how powerful immersing yourself in another perspective can be.

Pennebaker has multiple publications on the health benefits of writing. Some other helpful resources include:

Writing Down the Bones, by Natalie Goldberg

The Artist’s Way, by Julia Cameron

Both of these books approach writing from a therapeutic perspective, and The Artist’s Way is particularly helpful in offering guidance through exercises and activities. And if you like writing, and strive to go deeper with the craft of it, therapeutic writing is a great way to open to a deeper and more unique style.

Coming to Consciousness in Goodbye

I feel compelled to write about closure today: the act of it; how we come to it; the necessity of it; all of our wanderings around closure instead of through it and why it’s such a tricky dance in our psyches.

Part of my work is with a hospice agency as a grief counselor. In this, I get to witness hundreds and hundreds of deaths via the medical teams I work with. I’m blessed to have this perspective as it gives me insight into life, how differently each person we work with dies, and the ways in which I can live more fully in my time remaining. There’s a space in which I think all hospice workers reside that I believe is sacred, or embodies liminality. Hospice nurses, nurse’s aides, chaplains, and social workers all have unique roles as midwives in the dying process, ushering patients across the threshold of life towards something the rest of us will never comprehend until it’s our time to be ushered across. Living in this liminal space with others has a way of encouraging us to confront some hard questions about our lives, and about life in general. The process of exploring these questions and finding meaning in the bittersweet aspects of life can be long and arduous, yet is in many ways is what defines us and our unique natures.

This process involves letting go. We encounter goodbyes everywhere in day-to-day life… in small conversations with people at the grocery store, on the phone, as we throw things away, in letting go of things past, putting a period at the end of a sentence, or in choosing to do something differently. Some of us are more adept at saying goodbye to things and people than others. Some of us like transitions and are drawn to change. Others linger, savoring moments in the present or the past, preferring to relish rather than look ahead. However the way, I would hazard a guess that for most people, when it comes to the real goodbye, we will look back on it and think that we weren’t entirely prepared; that if I had another chance to do it over again, I would…

Of course, much of this is human nature. We rarely encounter something with the finality of death; with the void left by someone being gone forever. So we don’t have many opportunities to practice a true goodbye. As humans we also are incredibly adept at analyzing the past and reworking it in our brains towards how we think it should have gone. Think back to how many times you’ve grappled with a decision, decided on what to do and done it, and then lain in bed in the middle of the night wondering if it really was the “right” decision, flogging yourself with thoughts of outcomes and consequences and regret? I see the same in the people I work with who are grieving a loss. There will always be an element of wondering in the midst of finality… wondering if we did the right thing, wondering if perhaps there was a stone left unturned after all. I don’t think we can escape this, but I do think we can prepare and consciously meet our endings with everything we have. If you can look back and say to yourself that you did everything you could in that moment, then that truly is all you could do. If you look back and think that there was more you could have done or said, then take the opportunity to learn, and give yourself the space for forgiveness. Anyone else who really loves you would offer you the same.

Finding closure can be a sacred process. For many life transitions, society’s institutions, faith organizations, and cultures mark the passage with a sacred ceremony or ritual. Some of these ceremonies are less embodied, or participatory, than others. In American culture what we often offer to people by way of ceremonies is more about formality and less about asking a person to step forward, ask and answer hard questions, and be in a liminal/sacred space. In my training I’ve had the opportunity to follow teachings that combine time in the wilderness with a sacred structure that marks transition. Some may be familiar with the term Vision Quest, and this is similar although what I’ve learned has been called rites of passage and is passed down by different teachers, including Stephen Foster and Meredith Little, two pioneers of rites of passage work in this country and the founders of The School of Lost Borders in California. The structure is something we all can rely on at any time, whether indoors at home or outdoors on an extended trip, and the questions are salient to any transition in life. The structure creates the sacred space, and there are many ways to fill the structure based on what you’re honoring or marking in your life. For the purpose of this post I’ll use the idea of closure in relationships.

The first phase is severance. This is a time of separation, letting go, ending, and going in. Some salient questions to ask during the time of severance include:

In what ways am I afraid to live fully?

What are the 5 things I most want to do, be or experience in my life?

Who do I need to give and receive forgiveness from?

Who do I need to say I love you and thank you to?

The second phase is transition or the threshold. This is a time of entering sacred space, changing, and being in. Questions to ask during this time include:

What do I believe happens at death and after?

How does this belief affect the choices I make now?

What do I need to forgive in myself?

The third phase is incorporation. This is a time of returning, coming back, beginning, and going out. Questions to ask during this time include:

If I died tomorrow, what would I leave behind?

What has been meaningful for me?

In hospice work, we pay a lot of attention to the severance phase and verbalizing things that will aid in letting go and gaining closure. There are five things often referred to as important phrases for family members to say to their dying loved one, and these are: “Please forgive me.” “I forgive you.” “Thank you.” “I love you.” “Goodbye.” Getting to the point of being able to verbalize these to someone takes work, and sometimes an awful lot of work. And therein lies the value of the process. The structure is in the phrases, and the meaning comes in getting to the point where they can actually be vocalized.

Once a true closure is reached, a person can feel free to move ahead with meaning and purpose, and ideally without regret.

For further reading, check out:

The Roaring of the Sacred River, by Steven Foster and Meredith Little

The Final Crossing, by Scott Eberle

Some Good Old Fashioned Validation

Last week, noted psychiatrist Dr. Robert Spitzer wrote an apology letter to the LGB community for his efforts to show that “reparative therapy” (which supposedly makes you straight) could actually work with people who desired to change their sexual orientation. The letter was published in Archives of Sexual Behavior, the same journal in which his original study was published in 2001. The New York Times published an article about Spitzer and his apology last week, highlighting the fact that Spitzer was originally one of the clinicians responsible for de-classifying homosexuality as a mental disorder in the 1970s. Yet with the advent of reparative therapy, Spitzer became curious if it actually worked. With this question in mind, he conducted his now infamous study. Spitzer did cite the caveat that he didn’t ever believe gay and lesbian people should have to change their orientation if they didn’t want to. However, the way this study would be used by homophobic organizations, to prove a point, and the far-reaching social fallout of the study are disturbing, to say the least.

The myths may always be there. And the desire to justify, or to “figure out,” why some people are gay, lesbian, or bisexual, will likely always fuel some portion of the population’s creative endeavors. I’ve been thinking a lot about some of these myths and “explanations” lately. They’re funny. Yet I’ve also been thinking about how some of my work as a therapist involves using these explanations to tease apart assumptions and social constructs from reality so that I can help my clients find a sense of normalcy, and perhaps even a sense of empowerment. Some of the studies about gay and lesbian relationships can be helpful for this reason, and also for the very simple act of de-bunking what the majority thinks to be true.

The first study I’ll talk about is one called “What’s the Confusion About Fusion?” published in the Journal of Marital and Family Therapy in October 2010. The title is clever, and if you’re a lesbian reading this you probably know exactly what they’re talking about. You probably know what they’re talking about even if you’re straight. I’ll cue in the joke about lesbians here: What do lesbians do on a 2^nd date? Rent a U-Haul.

What these researchers studied was the idea of negative and positive closeness in lesbian relationships, and the contributing factors to these. Negative closeness refers to an invasive form of closeness, whereas positive closeness refers to a healthy level of intimacy. The context of this study is important, because there has been a very provocative myth generated for a long time that lesbian relationships are defined by enmeshment, or a lack of differentiation, which is unhealthy (the not-so-subtle message here is that lesbian relationships are unhealthy). Before you figured out that the Bobbsey Twins were actually a boy and a girl, they were the perfect mascot for this myth. There were some logical explanations for this idea, namely that having to live a life in which a couple’s lifestyle is stigmatized, where there is little social support, and where self-esteem is a problem, a couple seeks safety and support only via the relationship instead of from multiple areas of life, which isolates and fuses the couple. This explanation makes sense, but it’s actually not true. The study showed that the factors that contributed most to healthy and unhealthy relationships were attachment style and out-ness (the degree to which a person was comfortably out in their lives). This means that a couple that experiences a healthy level of closeness in their relationship likely has two people who have a more secure attachment style and who are more comfortable with showing affection with each other. More importantly, they found that there is a relative degree of closeness in these lesbian relationships that is better tolerated than it would be in heterosexual relationships. So, women may value closeness in relationships, and seek it out, more than men do.

The big deal here is a point that I’ve seen be made in my practice with gay, lesbian, and straight couples: it doesn’t matter what your orientation is; you can be in a heterosexual relationship and feel that your partner is relying on you for too much, or you can be in a same-sex relationship and feel that your partner is too distant too much of the time. But in long-term lesbian relationships, there will likely be a higher level of closeness that both women enjoy and value. Although this may not seem like a big deal, the understanding that this is normal and healthy may be important and empowering to lesbian culture.

The Gottman Institute conducted a 12-year study with gay and lesbian couples, and found some interesting distinctions (based mainly on gender differences) between opposite-sex couples and same-sex couples. Some of the important ones are:

Gay and lesbian couples tend to have lower levels of arousal when arguing, meaning that they don’t react as strongly to each other. This ultimately points to the ability of each person to (consciously or unconsciously) soothe his or her partner in the midst of conflict.
Lesbians were more emotionally expressive during fights, showing more anger, humor, excitement, and interest than their gay male counterparts did during arguments.
Gay men have a harder time recovering from negativity during an argument with a partner than lesbians or opposite-sex couples.
Gay and lesbian couples appear to be more capable of equitable communication when fighting, as evidenced by less hostility, domineering, and fear used between couples in the face of an argument.

So, what does this tell us? For one, gay and lesbian relationships are different than straight relationships in some matters. Gay and lesbian couples also have some innate sources of strength and health that come through during conflicts. Although conflict is uncomfortable no matter whom you are or what kind of relationship you’re in, it can help to know that you may be doing some things “right” rather than feeling like you’re contributing to the downfall of the relationship. Conflict is inevitable, and what ultimately matters is how you argue with your partner. If you’re willing to listen, even when you feel wronged; if you’re willing to laugh at yourself, even when you feel vulnerable; if you’re willing to show respect for your partner, even when you feel small, you’ll be amazed at what will come out of the conflict. Instead of a battle to the death… or to somebody’s loss, you may find instead that it’s both of you who win.

Accepting the Other Human in your life.

When we start delving into the idea of secure attachment in relationships, or mutual dependence, something that inevitably comes up for people is the opposite idea; the equally important issue of differentiation.

This is something that David Schnarch talks about in his books Intimacy & Desire, and Passionate Marriage. Schnarch was also interviewed in the latest issue of Psychology Today. Differentiation is the ability to stand on one’s own two feet while still relating to your partner, and Schnarch uses this principle as the backbone of his work in helping couples to relate with one another in “grown-up” ways rather than in ways that cater to insecurities and wounds. If you’re in a relationship where you find yourself struggling to get what you need from your partner, and have tried talking about it, find that you continue to fight about it, and continually feel that you’re beating your head against a wall, this approach may help you to let your partner off the hook and turn the focus back on yourself.

In some cases I work with people individually who are having struggles like this, and although they would prefer to do couples work, with their partner, the partner refuses to do the work as a couple. So the person comes in to my office alone, and much of the work then becomes about focusing on the self, rather than the partner, and learning how to manage intense and uncomfortable emotions. This is the work of differentiation, and it is hard work. However, there’s a lot of beauty that comes of it: When we begin to understand that our partner can’t be the one to save us, especially from ourselves, we begin to truly understand their limitations and, in essence, their human-ness. Once we accept this, we can then relate to them as another human being – maybe even as a friend – rather than as someone who we deem is obligated to be in charge of our happiness. Put in these terms, perhaps you can see how a dynamic like this would set a partner up for failure on a regular basis.

OK, you say, then how do I do this? How do I focus on myself in the heat of the moment, when I’m feeling pissed off, vulnerable, and frustrated, and deal with all of these feelings… that are usually about my partner?

Here’s a step-by-step process to start practicing:

Breathe. The breath is one of the best ways you can get in touch with your emotions, and therefore gain awareness and understanding of why you’re reacting so strongly. Of course you’re breathing all the time, but what you’re doing here is simply noticing your breath. Once you notice your breath, it will change, and you’ll then start to notice things in your body, like all of the emotions surging up and down your torso, or all of the tension in your shoulders, etc. An alternative to noticing your breath is to notice any tension in your body. Notice if you’re clenching your fists, or if your jaw is tight, or if your eyebrows are furrowed. Take notice of these things, and consciously try to relax the tension. You may then notice other things…
Communicate to your partner. Tell your partner that you’re having a hard time, that you don’t want to blame him or her for what’s happening inside you, and that you need to take care of yourself in order to work through all of these feelings.
Designate a time together when you will re-visit the topic, and then take some space. The key to this is that you both come back at the agreed-upon time to open the subject back up.
Find a way to deal with your feelings. Go for a walk. Do some journaling. Alternate squeezing stress balls in your hands, one after the other (tennis balls work well too); or pass a slinky from one hand to the other for a few minutes (this helps the brain to process emotions). Listen to music. Whatever works for you, do it.
Come back to your partner. You’ll find that once you pay attention to your emotions and manage them in a way that helps you, you’re much more available to problem-solve, and you’re much more able to communicate equitably. You may also find that your ability to be compassionate with your partner is much greater, and vice versa.

If you can do this, you’re on your way to taking better care of yourself in your relationship.

In my work with couples I often find that there’s a healthy balance (relative to each couple) on the spectrum of interdependence and differentiation between two people. No two people are alike, therefore no two relationships are alike, and this ultimately means that every couple will find health at a different spot along this spectrum. Finding where this spot is for you and your partner takes time; so don’t expect that you should know this automatically. How you each deal with emotions, your particular attachment styles, your innate personalities, the stressors in your lives, and many other things all play a role in finding this sweet spot together.

If I Act Like A Hippo For You, Will You Act Like A Tortoise For Me?

I had the opportunity yesterday to attend a workshop given by Stan Tatkin, who developed the Psychobiological Approach to Couple Therapy (PACT). His approach combines neurobiology, attachment theory, and psychodramatic interventions to help couples move through deeply held patterns of reacting and interacting, towards more fulfilling, happy, and productive relationships. Stan’s work highlights the fact that although we may all come into a relationship with varying amounts of “baggage,” we can help each other find solace and security in the relationship just in the way that we approach each other and tune in to each other. As arguments arise and fall away, and as the stress of life invades our homes and our lives together, we can each develop the skills necessary to help our partner feel that the relationship is secure and is a source of true support. The key factor, Stan argues, is that we are each attending to the other person in a way that acknowledges our very natural; mammalian; instinctive drive to depend on another person. This isn’t something we grow out of once we become teenagers… in fact this dependence is something we need throughout our lives and is something that can drive us to create relationships that are, in many senses of the word, home.

You are probably at least somewhat familiar with the story of Owen and Mzee, the hippo and 130 year-old tortoise that have become inseparable friends, living in Kenya. On December 26, 2004, the pod of hippos to which Owen belonged was struck by the tsunami that affected nearly all of southeast Asia, and Owen was the only hippo found remaining. He was a baby at the time and was rescued by the villagers nearby, and taken to a wildlife sanctuary. At the sanctuary, Owen was placed in an enclosure with other kinds of animals, including the tortoise Mzee. Owen immediately became attached to Mzee, and the two began a mutually dependent friendship, with Mzee often leading Owen and showing him how to forage for grass, and the two wallowing together and sleeping side by side. For tortoises, becoming attached to another animal is not the norm. And for Owen, had he not found another that could teach him how to eat, and that he could find safety in, his survival could have been tenuous. There is now a website dedicated to the two unlikely friends, at www.owenandmzee.com, where you can read about their ongoing adventures and even become part of the fan club. The story has captured many peoples’ hearts, and speaks to something inside many of us about the power of a relationship to help overcome even the worst wounds.

Owen and Mzee are the perfect example of why symbiosis is something not to be shunned. As Americans we live in a society that rewards independence, and for a long time now the message we’ve received has been about learning how to stand on your own two feet so that you can create a healthy relationship. I’ve heard so many people say that they want to work on their shit before I meet someone. In reality, our shit often doesn’t come up until we’re with that perfect someone, and we can’t work on it unless we work on it with that person. The good news is that when you commit to working on it with your partner, the rewards can be astounding. Your partner is the one person who could write your How-To Manual (as John Gottman would say), and in this person lies an incredibly valuable resource for helping you to grow into the person that you really can be. In Mzee, Owen found a willing and caring partner that taught him how to survive, that behaved more like a hippo than a tortoise… and so their relationship continues.