Healing from loss

How to live when a loved one dies

Author: Thich Nhat Hanh

Publisher: Rider Books

Pages:  176

Price: Rs 399

Death is a subject on which we often avoid talking. It reminds us of our impermanence and the fact that our loved ones will stop breathing and being around in ways that we are used to. The silence around it does not imply an acceptance of its inevitability or an absence of fear. This hesitation to engage keeps us from building the inner resources that we need to cope.

Thich Nhat Hanh’s new book How to live when a loved one dies is a tender exploration of this subject, blending philosophy with practice. The author is a Vietnamese Buddhist monk, poet and peace activist who established the international Plum Village Community of Engaged Buddhism in France. He now lives in Hue in Central Vietnam.

This Zen master is widely respected for his teachings on mindful living, which have been available to people outside Buddhist communities through the retreats that he has led, the books that he has written, and the teachers that he has trained. His teachings on grief and loss have been compiled in this book, along with guided meditations and self-care practices.

The soothing effect of his words comes from a gracious ability to meet people where they are, instead of rushing them towards a resolution that he expects them to achieve. He invites us to recognise, name and embrace our feelings instead of suppressing them. This advice might be particularly useful for men, who are conditioned by patriarchy to put forth a mask of invincibility when they are hurting inside and have wounds that are unhealed.

He says, “When we suffer a deep loss, especially if it was sudden and traumatic, the shock can lodge in our body. We hold our suffering in every muscle and in every cell.” This insight is accompanied by instructions for exercises that focus on “belly breathing” and “deep relaxation”. These are simple methods to witness and transform pain by focusing on the rising and falling of the abdomen, and connecting with the earth’s strength and solidity.

People trying out these techniques are not required to seek refuge in the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha. The book will help anyone who wants to find “relief, comfort, and healing in the face of grief and loss”. However, a prior exposure to Buddhist concepts such as emptiness, dependent arising and interbeing will certainly help us derive greater benefit from this book.

Meditative practices can scare off people who imagine that they will have to sit quietly in a cross-legged position for an hour at a stretch, perhaps with their eyes closed. The practices offered in this book do not place such demands on us. They emphasise becoming aware of the body and the mind, merely making a note of thoughts and feelings and sensations.

A “mindfulness bell” can be used to train oneself to stop and observe but we can also use other “bells” such as a telephone ring, a red light at a traffic signal, a church bell, a digital alarm, or any other periodic reminder to practise stopping, recognition and letting go. Doing so will strengthen our “mindfulness muscle” and help us remain calm in difficult situations.

Those who are not inclined towards the practice of sitting meditation can experiment with walking meditation in a park. The author says, “We have all witnessed how the earth can take refuse, garbage, or compost, and transform it into beautiful flowers. We know that we, too, have this capacity. The earth embraces us and helps us transform our suffering and despair.”

This book articulates some of the concerns that torment people when their loved ones die. Could I have done something to prevent them from dying? Why wasn’t I there for them when they were sick and needed care? How can I forgive myself for the pain that I caused them being distant and not responding to their requests for support? How can I apologise for my behaviour? Do they know that I feel terrible for what I did? Is it possible to make amends?

The author says, “Often, we regret that we weren’t kinder to our loved ones during their lifetime or didn’t show them enough how much we love them. Now we may feel it’s too late. But we don’t need to feel that kind of regret — our loved ones live on in us and we can speak to them whenever we want. We can apologise for our unskillfulness and ask for forgiveness.”

He also walks us through a toolbox of other creative ideas to deepen our connection with those who have died and still have a home in our hearts. This includes writing a letter to them, cooking their favourite foods, making an altar with objects that were dear to them, sharing stories about them, and cherishing the qualities that we have inherited from them.

He says, “The ocean of suffering is immense. But if you turn around, you can see the land.”