Relationships are hard work, when your life is busy.  You set the alarm early, race the kids to school, hopefully manage to make it to work on time, pat your hair down (to maintain some semblance of professionality), whirl though an endless dance of meetings and clients, sprint off to your daughter’s lacrosse game by 5:30pm, grab the take-out for dinner, get your kids to youth group by 7:00pm, pick them up by 9:00pm, and hope – by the end of the day – to have a few spare moments to look your partner in the eye and meaningfully respond to one each other’s stories about how you somehow “made it through” the day, before falling asleep to Jimmy Fallon.  

When you’re tired, hungry, pre-occupied, and frazzled, it’s easy to get irritable, reactive, or to unintentionally shut out the people we love the most. 

But relationship are even harder work, when you’re NOT busy.  As the COVID-19 crises has robbed us of our routines, our normal support systems, the strategies we all use to bring ourselves meaning and pleasure, many of us are feeling tired, pre-occupied and frazzled, for entirely different reasons.  I keep telling myself that I should be grateful.  After all, I finally have all the time and space I’ve longed for years.  I finally have time to assemble photo albums, paint my kitchen, organize our closets, but I just can’t do it. 
Instead, I’m listless, anxious, wandering around the house like it’s some unfamiliar landscape, neurotically checking Facebook and the news for COVID updates.  I make lists of things I should do, but I stare at it with utter loathing and inertia.

I’m basically doing nothing…yet I’m finding it even easier to get irritable, reactive, and to unintentionally shut out the people I love the most.  Why?

Remember that we’re all grieving.  We, as a country, are suffering a whole host of painful losses in the past few days.  Many of us have lost our freedom to make an income, meet friends for coffee, embrace our aged family members, to share happy hour with colleagues at our favorite pub.   Scholar and author, Pauline Boss, might call the losses faced in COVID-19 an “ambiguous loss,” a loss that‘s unacknowledged, unquantifiable, a loss that’s not supported by the cultural rituals we have for managing grief. 

You see, when we have a loved one die, there are clear rituals to support our grief journey.  We cry, we share meals together, we light candles, and have a memorial service.  We tell stories about our loved one and take a few days off of work to lounge around in pajamas and sniffle into Kleenex.   The people who know us give us space, recognizing that grief is hard work, and we need time to reflect, mourn, and cry on someone’s shoulder.  These are helpful rituals and structures that support our grief. 

But with COVID-19, we’re facing a whole array of losses, and we don’t know how to grieve.   We don’t know what to do – what structures to adopt, what rituals to embrace, how to connect with support– so our primary relationships become strained, and our energy gets depleted.  

5 Strategies for Managing Relationships during COVID-19:

1) Recognize that you are grieving and will likely grieve differently than your partner or family members.    For instance, one of you might be anxious and fearful, while the other might feel calm and even dismissive.  There’s a reason why two people fall in love, and it’s often because you manage stress in different ways.  While you might initially have been attracted to how “laid-back” your partner is under stress, or how quickly your partner rises to action in a moment of crises, those things that once attracted you to each other will likely become annoying or a source of contention.  Over time, we have a propensity to want our partner to match our level of stress.  It helps us feel validated, comforted, and less alone.  Seeking this kind of emotional congruity is understandable, but not realistic. 

Recognize when family members are responding differently to grief, and give each other the freedom to respond in his/her own way.  If you’re struggling with anxiety, take responsibility for meeting your own needs and find strategies to “self-soothe,” without relying solely on your partner for comfort and empathy.  Call a safe friend, find an on-line therapist, meditate or pray, journal about your feelings, read a good book, or take a long walk.  Recognize that each of you will grieve differently, and that’s okay. 

2)  Embrace your differing strategies for distraction.  We all need to keep well-informed during the COVID-crises and take proper action to protect ourselves and loved ones, but our nervous systems cannot stay engaged with stress and grieve all day.  The alarmist media coverage can heighten our stress response in our nervous system and keep stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline flowing into our system all day. This is not sustainable. 

It’s important to take breaks:  turn off the news, watch a comedy, laugh through an on-line happy hour event, play a video game, or binge-watch a show.  Many spouses and parents are concerned about their partner’s or children’s on-line usage right now.  Recognize that Snapchat, video games, and television shows can be meaningful coping strategies during a time of crises, and do not have to become long-term habits.  Try not to judge or criticize your partner’s chosen coping strategy, even though it might vastly differ from yours. 

3)  Notice and name the parts of you that are becoming reactive right now.  Observe them without fusing or merging with them. I am observing all kinds of differing reactions to this crisis in my body right now. 

• There’s a part of me that feels angry and defiant about “Big Brother” telling me what I can and cannot do, and even who I can and cannot take walks with (“Only family members – no neighbors” in Colorado right now!)  This part of me feels adolescent, angry and rebellious and wants to disobey orders. 
• I have a “paranoid part” of me who is hypervigilant about detecting a fever or any COVID-symptoms in myself or my children and is clearly overactivated right now.  It keeps waking me up with anxious thoughts at night, misinterpreting my menopausal hot-flashes as “The COVID virus is here!”
• I have a “lonely part” – wanting desperately to connect with friends, just because I fear I cannot.  I have called more long, lost friends in the last 48 hours than I have in the last two decades.  I am reconnecting with high school friends, college friends, and other old connections in each of the places I have lived.
• I have a “doomsday part” that keeps nurturing grandiose ruminations about our loss of income and the state of economy.  This part is worrying about my husband’s loss of work, the state of his employee’s jobs, and is bearing the weight of the world on its shoulders.
• I have a “relieved part” that has been so exhausted from work.  This part loves not having to go into work and is enjoying reading mindless novels and is binging episodes of “Outlander” I have never had time to watch.    
• I have a “grateful part” – that keeps sighing with joy at the presence of my husband and children, safe at home, and knows that this opportunity will never be here again – to have this amount of time to make puzzles, play games, bake cookies, to watch movies and eat popcorn together.

When we observe and welcome all the “parts” of ourselves that are becoming activated right now, we can prevent ourselves from “becoming” our parts and allowing one particular part to take over.   You can help your relationships by observing your partner’s parts too, naming them and trying to understand them, instead of judging or reacting to them.

4)  Be gentle with yourself and your family members.  Grief work is exhausting. As your mind struggles to solve problems it cannot solve or to control things it cannot control, it literally wears you down.  I feel like I’m running a marathon, even though I’m literally just sitting on my butt.  Practice kindness – as if you’re practicing hospitality with cherished guests.  Say nurturing things to yourself and each other.  Express appreciation.  Share affection - even if you’re not feeling it.  Common courtesy goes on long way and can be the hardest to practice with the people with whom we’re stuck. 

5)  Mourn your losses.  Grief expert, Alan Wolfelt, says that there’s a big difference between grieving and mourning.   Wolfelt writes, “I have learned that the grief journey requires mourning. Grief is what you think and feel on the inside…, but mourning is the outward expression of those thoughts and feelings.  To mourn is to be an active participant in our grief journeys.” 
​
We’re all grieving as we weather the losses of COVID-19, but if we want to find a healing path through this, we must also mourn.  This means expressing the nature of our losses in a safe place, that may (or may not) include our partners or family members.  Write down all the ways that your life has changed since COVID-19.  Name each separate loss.  Find an on-line therapist.  Talk with a friend or therapist about your fears, anxieties, and needs. Feel free to share your “dark” emotions as well as your inspiring ones.  Make room for the whole repertoire of emotions, and know that you’re not alone.  

Managing Grief through the Holidays
 
“It's coming on Christmas,
They're cutting down trees.
Putting up reindeer
Singing songs of joy and peace,
Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on….”
 
“I'm so hard to handle,
I'm selfish and I'm sad.
Now I've gone and lost the best baby
That I've ever had.
Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on…” 
 
                                           - Lyrics from “River” by Joni Mitchell and James Taylor
 
This pain-filled lament from one of my favorite Joni Mitchell songs capture, for me, the “mixed blessing” the holiday seasons can be for many of us.  Some of us are “all in” relishing the opportunity to decorate, shop, bake, and have extra time with loved ones - while others of us deeply wish we “had a river {we} could skate away on…” While this season’s celebrations are joyful for some, it’s often a time of anxiety and depression for many.  As the pace grows hectic, the pressures become demanding. Relationships become strained, and loneliness can deepen.    
 
The cultural expectations that we have about what “makes the season jolly” often leave many of us feeling disappointed, disillusioned, and empty.  There is an ideal in our head about what the holidays should look or feel like, and oftentimes - the changes, the transitions, or losses we are grieving can make us feel profoundly alone, like we’re totally “missing the boat.” 
 
There’s a book I’ve appreciated on grief called, “The Empty Chair.” It reminds us of the stark reality of the “empty chair” that often confronts us during the holiday season – where dad, mom, a child, or a partner used to sit.  That chair, when left unacknowledged, can haunt us and drain any meaning and joy from the holidays. 
 
In “The Empty Chair,” the authors compare grief to a firestorm.  Some of you remember well the fires that raged through the landscape at Yellowstone National Park a number of years ago.  Acres and acres of lush green forests wooded mountainsides were devoured by rampant flames, reduced to piles of blackened ashes.  Deer, bear, and elk had all lost their homes and were left scavenging for any sign of life.  The barren ground left behind looked completely devoid of beauty, life, or hope. 
 
This is the landscape of grief.  Death can turn the hopes and dreams of our lives into a desert wasteland.  We lose our bearings – the familiar routines in life that once gave us a sense of purpose and joy.  We can feel exhausted, afraid, and even helpless to find our direction again.  It can feel like death has left nothing but ashes in its wake.   
 
But there is hope.  There is hope when we acknowledge the pain and share our stories with others who are also struggling.  There is hope when we realize that as we go through the grief (we never get over it), we can find healing and a deeper sense of compassion and meaning. I believe that the Divine, the Universe, is always working, even as we wait, to raise up new life from these ashes.  A new power, a new self, a new identity, a new hope is always working to push through the hard, crusty ground - that we might find life again. 
 
This December, I am hosting a grief seminar at the Niwot Counseling Center to provide information and support for those of you who are struggling, or have loved ones who are struggling, this season.  You are warmly invited to attend a “Managing Grief through the Holidays” seminar on Thursday, December 12th from 6:30-8:30pm OR Friday, December 13th from 12:30-2:30pm at the  Niwot Counseling Center, 6800 N. 79th Street, Suite 207 (Upstairs), in downtown  Niwot in Cottonwood Square.  Space is limited and costs $10/person. Please RSVP at christineruth@niwotcounseling.com, find more information at my website at www.niwotcounseling.com, or call 720-610-5290.  You won’t have to talk at the seminar and are welcome to just listen.  Let us find hope together. 
 
Christine Ruth, M.Div, MS, LMFT has provided individual counseling and group support for 19 years through hospice bereavement services and through her own private practice.  
​

Here is a river flowing now very fast.
It is so great and swift that there are those
who will be afraid, who will try
to hold onto the shore.
They are being torn apart and
will suffer greatly."   
                      ~ From the elders of the Hopi nation, as quoted in Perseverance, 
                                                                                                                      by Margaret Wheatley

I think family relationships are a lot like "fast-flowing rivers"  Families, like rivers, have constantly shifting terrain.  One moment, they can feel smooth and peaceful, and the next  moment, they feel tumultuous and even terrifying!  When the terrain shifts - when we face change or loss- we wonder:
     
           Should I hold on?  
           Should I let go? 

Am I  "suffering greatly" due to MY response, or is it HIS response that's the problem? 

All of us have the tendency to get stuck in "relational ruts: with how we relate to our family members.  Our fear locks us into predictable patterns that can cause pain and suffering.  We hold on when we need to let go.  We let go when we need to hold on.   
        My past 20 years of serving families in the midst of deep crisis, addiction, death, loss, and through the tides of mental illness has taught me that families are like "fast-flowing" rivers.  Challenge and change is inevitable, but how we react to those challenges, changes, and grief is far more essential to our happiness and joy.     
    I grew up canoeing through the Boundary Waters Canoe Area in Northern Minnesota, and there were times we got caught up in terrifying storms.  The waves would be crashing against our boat, and the wind could suddenly whip up with such a frenzy, I was sure we were "going down!"  I quickly learned that the direction we faced the canoe, and how we paddled the canoe through the waves determined whether we'd slice through the squall or capsize in the midst of it. Relationships are similar to those Boundary Waters storms. 

Conflict is inevitable, but our response is essential. 

The wonderful thing is that YOU can LEARN to navigate the fast rivers of marriage and family life in the same way you can learn to paddle a canoe effectively.   It's not as if some people are predispositioned to "do relationships well," and others aren't.  Relationships require skills that every one of us can learn and can master. 
       Moreover, the personal relationship you have with your partner, your child, or your parent often requires certain skills that are unique to that relationship.  The way you create emotional intimacy with one particular partner may not work effectively with another partner.  The parenting strategy that works with one child totally backfires with another!  We all have to humble ourselves and become "Curious Learners" when it comes to learning how to navigate our unique and constantly shifting relationships.    
      Therapy is all about discovering the skills to master the changing landscape of your relationships.  I want to equip individuals and families to face the "fast rivers" of family life with competence and skill, You CAN "do relationships well." Come discover the right tools to face your challenges head-on, with steady confidence.