Book Tehniques in Grief
Book Tehniques in Grief
Book Tehniques in Grief
Techniques of Grief Therapy is an indispensable guidebook to the most inventive and inspi-
rational interventions in grief and bereavement counseling and therapy. Individually, each
technique emphasizes creativity and practicality. As a whole, they capture the richness of
practices in the field and the innovative approaches that clinicians in diverse settings have
developed, in some cases over decades, to effectively address the needs of the bereaved. New
professionals and seasoned clinicians will find dozens of ideas that are ready to implement
and are packed with useful features, including:
• An intuitive, thematic organization that makes it easy to find the right technique for a
particular situation
• Sample worksheets, questionnaires, and activities for use in session and as homework
assignments
• Expert guidance on implementing each technique and tips on avoiding common
pitfalls
• Detailed explanations of when to use (and when not to use) particular techniques
• Illustrative case studies and transcripts.
EDITED BY
Robert A. Neimeyer
First published 2012
by Routledge
711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017
The right of the editor to be identified as the author of the editorial material,
and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in
accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and
Patents Act 1988.
Typeset in Minion
by RefineCatch Limited, Bungay, Suffolk, UK
Prologue xv
Acknowledgments xix
v
vi • CONTENTS
9 Mindfulness Training 39
BARBARA E. THOMPSON
11 Reconstructing Nightmares 45
COURTNEY ARMSTRONG
13 Intuitive Humor 50
ROBERT F. MORGAN
14 Analogical Listening 55
ROBERT A. NEIMEYER
15 Clapping Qigong 58
CECILIA LAI WAN CHAN AND PAMELA PIU YU LEUNG
Epilogue 368
Contributors 370
Index 373
Figures and Tables
FIGURES
3.1 The Selah grief model 18
16.1 (a) and (b) “Hands in the Sand” 62
16.2 (a) and (b) Tray as metaphor 64
23.1 The Dual Process Model of Bereavement in the context of violent death 92
32.1 Schematic depiction of the role of catastrophic misinterpretations
and avoidance in maintaining grief symptoms 126
47.1 Tracy’s loss timeline 186
52.1 Bridging from “Terror” to “Freedom” 203
53.1 Baby Ishmael 206
53.2 Ishmael’s sons in the bath 207
53.3 Hope’s Healing Dreamscape 207
55.1 Trapped in Pain 217
55.2 Death Approaching 218
55.3 Heaven and Earth 218
63.1 (a) and (b) Inside and outside of a sample memory box 244
69.1 Representative staging for chair work offering four positions 268
69.2 Basic configuration for chair work, with positioning and choreography
of imaginal conversation between client and the deceased 269
72.1 Bob 282
72.2 “I just don’t know what is going to be when I wake up. I try to cherish
every day now.” 283
72.3 “I like to spend time with my dogs when I’m out walking. Brownie, a Golden
Retriever and Murray, a Smooth Collie, are both buried here.” 284
84.1 (a) and (b) Kindness cards in English and Spanish. 330
85.1 All the Stars Above therapeutic tool for facilitating sharing regarding a loss 333
89.1 The Grief Spiral 348
TABLES
4.1 Brief orientation to the Two-Track Model of Bereavement 21
5.1 Partially completed Grief Monitoring Diary 28
30.1 Example log of assertive responses to conflict situations 119
33.1 Grief-related evaluations and emotional consequences 130
xiii
Prologue
* I base this estimate on numerous studies of complicated, prolonged grief as a form of problematic
response to loss that differs from its “near neighbors” of depression and anxiety disorders, which
consistently place estimates of this reaction in the range of 10–15% of bereaved adults, the great
majority of whom have lost partners or parents to natural causes (Prigerson et al., 2009; Shear et al.,
2011). However, the incidence of complicated grief among parents who have lost children (Keesee,
Currier, & Neimeyer, 2008) or who struggle with the death of a loved one to violent causes (McDevitt-
Murphy, Neimeyer, Burke, & Williams, 2011) is substantially higher, potentially in the vicinity of
30–50%. Add to this the approximately 10% of bereaved spouses who respond with chronic depres-
sion (Bonanno, Wortman, & Nesse, 2004) and the countless other mourners experiencing severe
anxiety and posttraumatic responses, and an estimated 20–25% of the bereaved experiencing signifi-
cant long-term struggle may be conservative.
† In this book, the terms “bereavement counseling” and “grief therapy” will be used more or less inter-
changeably. Sometimes, however, the former is used to connote more straightforward support, counsel
and ritualization offered to apparently adaptive mourners grieving a normative loss, whereas the latter
is reserved for more specialized interventions, often by more highly trained professionals, for more
complicated cases struggling with highly traumatizing loss, or against the backdrop of personal or
systemic vulnerability. While acknowledging the legitimacy of this distinction—particularly in estab-
lishing boundaries of competence for working with very challenging cases—I am concerned here with
representing the substantial overlap in technical resources from both domains, with the understanding
that individual therapists will naturally choose to utilize those that are within their range of competence.
xv
xvi • PROLOGUE
have the privilege to train in professional workshops, routinely exceed their characterization
by the media. Far from the stereotype of naïve would-be helpers informed only by outdated
stage models of grief, and simply pressing clients to share their painful feelings, the thou-
sands of therapists with whom I have worked typically are aware of and interested in learning
of more recent conceptual and empirical advances in the field, and modulate their approach
to clients based on a delicate reading of the resources and vulnerabilities of particular indi-
viduals and families. Moreover, and still more impressively, they draw on a vast panoply of
practices, which range from research-informed treatments for specific problems (e.g., trau-
matic responses, attachment issues) to creative adaptations of narrative, artistic and ritual
forms to address common or unique client needs. Of course, no given therapist in my
acquaintance practices the full range of possible interventions, not even the most eclectic or
exploratory among us. But collectively, the community of grief counselors and therapists has
crafted a rich repertoire of methods for assisting the bereaved, and a major goal of this
volume is to share these practices, both within and beyond the field of specialists who have
devised them.
A second goal of the book is more subtle: to continue to foster an interchange between the
field of bereavement research and scholarship, on the one hand, and of clinical and coun-
seling practice, on the other. Of course, this intent is hardly new with this volume, inasmuch
as serious efforts to advocate cross-fertilization of the two have characterized both scientific
work groups (Bridging Work Group, 2005) and professional organizations (such as the
Association for Death Education and Counseling) for some time. Indeed, the present project
extends my own recent effort with colleagues to foster just such bridging through the publi-
cation of a major volume in which every chapter was co-authored by a prominent bereave-
ment scholar or researcher, on the one hand, and clinician, on the other (Neimeyer, Harris,
Winokuer, & Thornton, 2011). In the current context I have therefore recruited contribu-
tions from three constituencies:
1. visible theorists or scholars who have published extensively in the field of bereavement
and grief therapy;
2. leading clinical researchers who are enlarging the body of knowledge on bereavement
interventions through quantitative or qualitative studies; and
3. practitioners in the field, many with limited opportunities to share their craft
beyond their own institution, who are nonetheless frequently innovating on
traditional practices.
I will count this project a success if this book brings to the attention of practitioners a
burgeoning set of concepts and methods with origins in the academy or laboratory that
could inform and extend their work, and if it awakens researchers to the often greatly more
creative practices that animate the field, beyond those they have investigated to date.
Before closing, it would perhaps be useful to say something about the character of the
invitations to contributors that resulted in the present compilation. First, I invited a few
chapters for a preliminary section of the book whose goal is to “frame” the many contribu-
tions to follow, by discussing the relational matrix of grief therapy within which specific
techniques are utilized. At least optimally, this frame features a therapist animated by deep
empathy and responsiveness, able to offer unflinching presence to the pain of loss and the
person experiencing it, in a state of mindfulness, and with some discernment about whether
to focus attention on the client’s biopsychosocial challenges or on struggles in reworking his
or her relationship to the deceased. Because of the breadth of this cluster of issues, I relaxed
somewhat the structure of the resulting contributions, though encouraging succinctness
overall to keep the chapters “user-friendly” for the reader.
PROLOGUE • xvii
Second, and predominantly, I invited a great range of chapters on grief therapy tech-
niques, broadly defined to include specific procedures, modalities and ways of working with
particular clinical issues, or more rarely, certain kinds of losses or clients. Here, I mainly
sought out methods that, with appropriate adaptation, could be used across a vast spectrum
of bereavement situations or populations, recognizing that most practices are somewhat
elastic, and can be extended judiciously beyond the focal context in which they were first
formulated. However, I also take it as axiomatic that few if any interventions can claim
universal applicability, at least when used by a clinician humble and astute enough to recog-
nize their limitations. For this reason I asked each author to address honestly and succinctly
the issue of the “indications and contraindications” of his or her particular method, that is,
under what circumstances it is and is not appropriate. I then requested a clear description of
the technique, ideally expressed in a set of procedures for implementing it, though realizing
that for some broad categories of methods (e.g., consultation/liaison, the use of metaphoric
reframes), this could be accomplished only suggestively. The use of this technique then was
to be anchored in an illustrative case, which, readers should be warned, occasionally makes
for emotionally strong reading, reflecting the sometimes grievous losses brought forward by
the clients we serve. Because any distress in reading such cases pales by comparison with the
rigors of bereavement care itself, attention is also given in various chapters to self-care for
the therapist—both in opening and closing contributions to this volume. Finally, in my
request to contributors, the case example was to be followed by concluding thoughts noting
any research relevant to the procedure, any significant variations on the method or qualifica-
tions to it, and a few carefully selected references to further document the technique, offer
an entry point into relevant research or theory, or point toward related resources for practi-
tioners. In all of this I pressed for brevity, recognizing that busy professionals are more likely
to be interested in substantial kernels of helpful techniques vetted in the laboratory or field
than in elaborate scientific or conceptual justifications of the author’s preferred practices.
The goal, then, was to present a rich and representative smorgasbord of methods for engaging
grief and its complications with greater creativity and awareness of alternatives, perhaps
particularly when our usual ways of working aren’t working. The sheer scope of the offerings
to follow gives me hope that this goal has been achieved, and that this selection of techniques
of grief therapy will spur further innovation and more informed and informative research in
the practices that constitute our field.
References
Bonanno, G. A., Wortman, C. B., & Nesse, R. M. (2004). Prospective patterns of resilience and mal-
adjustment during widowhood. Psychology and Aging, 19, 260–271.
Bridging Work Group (2005). Bridging the gap between research and practice in bereavement. Death
Studies, 29, 93–122.
Keesee, N. J., Currier, J. M., & Neimeyer, R. A. (2008). Predictors of grief following the death of one’s
child: The contribution of finding meaning. Journal of Clinical Psychology, 64, 1145–1163.
McDevitt-Murphy, M. E., Neimeyer, R. A., Burke, L. A., & Williams, J. L. (2011). Assessing the toll of
traumatic loss: Psychological symptoms in African Americans bereaved by homicide. Psychological
Trauma, in press.
Neimeyer, R. A., Harris, D. L., Winokuer, H., & Thornton, G. (Eds.). (2011). Grief and bereavement in
contemporary society: Bridging research and practice. New York: Routledge.
Prigerson, H. G., Horowitz, M. J., Jacobs, S. C., Parkes, C. M., Aslan, M., Goodkin, K., Raphael, B.,
et al. (2009). Prolonged grief disorder: Psychometric validation of criteria proposed for DSM-V
and ICD-11. PLoS Medicine, 6(8), 1–12.
Shear, M. K., Simon, N., Wall, M., Zisook, S., Neimeyer, R., et al. (2011). Complicated grief and
related bereavement issues for DSM-5. Depression and Anxiety, 28, 103–117.
Acknowledgments
The present project has a long past, but a short history. That is, the formal story of this
volume’s development from my initial conception of it to its visible birth in print has been
surprisingly swift, as scores of clinical collaborators eagerly joined in sharing their research-
honed procedures and clinical creativity in the conduct of grief therapy. Editing these into
a coherent project and supplementing them with my own best efforts to “unpack” my
favorite therapeutic practices has been a joy. But in a larger sense, Techniques of Grief
Therapy reaches back to my earliest engagement with clients struggling with loss, as well as
with the courageous cadre of colleagues who counsel them. To a greater extent than any
other clinical handbook I’ve encountered, this volume therefore represents a chorus of clini-
cians and their clients whose voices resonate in these pages, sometimes harmonizing, some-
times offering contrapuntal elaboration of the shared themes of loss and emergent hope in
the context of bereavement. I am indebted to each member of this chorus, many of whom I
am privileged to call friends.
I am equally indebted to other colleagues whose silent presence nonetheless made the
project possible. Among them is Anna Moore, my capable acquisitions editor for the
Routledge Series on Death, Dying and Bereavement, who trusted me to craft the volume as I
saw fit with her full support. Every volume editor with a vision should enjoy such freedom.
I also appreciate the tireless (or at least uncomplaining!) efforts of Elizabeth Crunk, my
onetime student who has gone on to pursue her own dreams of becoming a counselor, but
who selflessly contributed countless hours of administrative and editorial support for this
immense project. Those readers who find the index to be a trove of useful connections will
owe a debt to her. Kirsty Holmes likewise ensured that the typeset book was as visually
appealing and free of errors as conscientious attention to the manuscript could make it,
and a special thanks is due to my artist friend, Lisa Jennings, for her generous willingness to
share her visually intriguing, spiritually inflected art as the cover of this book, invoking
not only the hardship of the sojourn through grief, but also the companionship and
hoped-for destination that make it sustainable. Her work calls to me like a song, as I
hope it will as well to other readers of the volume. Finally, and fundamentally, I want
to express my heartfelt gratitude to the hundreds of clients who have allowed me to walk
alongside them through the darkest valleys of their despair, and especially to those who
gave explicit permission for me to include their stories, and sometimes their words, in
the vignettes that animate several of the chapters. It is their voices that will carry the
emotional truth of loss and its transcendence beyond the pages of this clinical anthology and
xix
xx • ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
into the lives of others who struggle with similar decimation, across the bridge of inspired
practice by the clinicians who read these accounts. It is deeply satisfying to anticipate this
outcome.
In an important sense, it is not a question of what grief therapy techniques do for a bereaved
client; it is the question of what bereaved clients (and therapists) do with the techniques that
counts. And so it seems appropriate to open this book with a consideration of the broader
relational framework that provides a “container” not only for our client’s grief, but also for
the specific procedures we offer to express, explore and ease the experience of loss. My goal
in this chapter is therefore to suggest that therapeutic presence provides the “holding envi-
ronment” for a responsive grief therapy, within which attention to therapeutic process
attunes the therapist to that unique juncture where a client’s need meets his or her readiness
for a particular intervention in a particular moment of interaction. Nested within these
larger and more ample containers like Russian dolls, specific procedures have a potentially
powerful place in the overall project of counseling or therapy. Divorced from these larger
contexts, however, stand-alone techniques lose much of their potency; they become merely
a random concatenation of methods whose relevance to a particular loss remains uncertain,
uncoordinated and unconnected to the durable thread of coherence that characterizes
effective therapy.
My goal in these pages is to frame these issues, in keeping with the spirit of the broadly
humanistic and specifically constructivist tradition of psychotherapy that is my home base
(Neimeyer, 2009a). I trust, however, that readers from many disciplines will recognize the
counterparts of these concepts in their own traditions, be they analytic, systemic, cognitive
behavioral, spiritual or simply grounded in their intuitive sense of the common factors that
tend to underpin healing human interactions, across and beyond the counseling professions
as such. I will begin with the most fundamental of these factors, therapeutic presence, and
progress to process and procedure in turn.
PRESENCE
Therapy begins with who we are, and extends to what we do. That is, bringing ourselves to
the encounter, as fully as needed, is the essential precondition for all that follows, that
distinctive blend of processes and procedures that broadly defines a given therapeutic
tradition and more specifically defines our own therapeutic style. Here, I want to emphasize
the foundational quality of therapeutic presence, the way in which the offer of full
availability to the client’s concerns, undistracted by other agendas, grounds the work by
offering a reflective audience to the telling and performance of the client’s grief narrative,
3
4 • ROBERT A. NEIMEYER
allowing both (or in the case of family or group therapy, all) participants to take perspective
on current conundrums in fresh ways.
Relating respectfully
In keeping with the collaborative, reflective and process-directive approach that is central to
a meaning reconstruction approach to grief therapy (Neimeyer & Sands, 2011), the stance of
the therapist is one of respectful, empathic engagement in the client’s evolving narrative of
self and world. The therapist does not decide what meanings will be reconstructed and which
will be reaffirmed in the wake of loss, but instead assists clients in recognizing incompatible
old meanings or constructs and works with them as they endeavor to find alternatives.
Significantly, this is not typically a very “cognitive” process in the usual sense, as the assump-
tive world that is challenged by profound loss scaffolds our core sense of identity, purpose
and relationship. In particular, for clients with deeply disturbed personal histories, the heart
of psychotherapy may consist in offering them a reparative relationship in which they are
able to risk letting the therapist have access into their core understanding of self (Leitner &
Faidley, 1995). The creation of this role relationship (in which one person attempts to
construe the deepest meaning-making process of another) is vital, as both client and thera-
pist seek to establish a reverential relationship that acknowledges the uniqueness of the
other. This reciprocal connection does not necessarily imply that the therapist discloses
PRESENCE, PROCESS, AND PROCEDURE • 5
personal content in the therapeutic relationship—although this is not precluded when clinic-
ally or humanly indicated. But it certainly makes room for the disclosure of the therapist’s
process responses to the client’s behavior (e.g., feeling moved by a bereaved client’s coura-
geous acknowledgement of his profound loneliness, or feeling distanced by a client’s shift
toward apparently superficial content), which can play a useful role in fostering client aware-
ness and enhancing the intensity of the therapeutic connection.
Although this sort of receptive presence might seem to have mystical overtones, it can be
rendered in other terms as well. Among the most adequate is Buber’s evocation of an I–Thou
relationship with the other (Buber, 1970), which presumes an essentially sacred attribution
of full personhood to the other, in contrast to an I–It relationship which casts the other as
simply an object to be acted on for our own purposes. In more secular terms it also resonates
with the cardinal role of therapeutic empathy, genuineness and unconditional positive regard
given particular emphasis by the honored tradition of humanistic psychology, and most
especially by Carl Rogers (Rogers, 1951). But I find that Polanyi’s description adds usefully
to such formulations because it highlights the necessary presence of the self in the relational
knowing that is therapy, as the implicit ground from which our awareness is directed to the
explicit figure of the client’s words or actions. Interestingly, I think that the self of the thera-
pist functions in a similar way for the client as well, as he or she attends from the therapist’s
questions or instructions to his or her own material. Thus, for both, the therapist’s presence
serves as a clarifying lens that brings into greater focus (inter-)personal patterns and
processes that are more difficult to observe in the client’s private reflections. Contributions
to the present volume that underscore the importance of mindfulness in both therapist and
client clearly resonate with this conception.
PROCESS
If therapist presence sets the stage for psychotherapeutic work, process is the medium in
which the drama of therapy unfolds. Extending this metaphor, an effective grief therapist
attends to unfolding action in the consulting room much as a director might attend to a
theatrical performance, with the crucial exceptions that the director him- or herself is also an
6 • ROBERT A. NEIMEYER
actor on the stage, and there is no script for the enactment! Instead, in the improvisational
theatre that is counseling, the therapist subtly directs the process by attending to signals of
possible extension, elaboration or intensification of the action or emotion in promising
directions, sometimes through explicit instructions or suggestions, but more commonly
through her or his own responsiveness to the client’s “lines” or performance. This attention
to the unfolding “give and take” of interaction is what opens the possibility for timely
suggestions regarding therapeutic techniques, like many of those included in this volume.
maintaining a sense of self and relationships (Kelly, 1955/1991), as when a client’s anxiety in
the aftermath of loss suggests that he or she is confronting life as a bereaved person without
the necessary means of anticipating or making sense of it. More generally, this conception
views emotion as a form of intuitive knowing (Mahoney, 1991), rather than as an irrational
force to be brought into line with rational evaluations of a situation. In this way we need not
see affect, even negative affect, as a problem to be eliminated, controlled, disputed, mini-
mized or simply coped with through distraction, but rather respected as a source of under-
standing to be validated and explored for what it says about what a client now needs. Several
of the expressive interventions outlined later in this volume resonate with this conception.
dialogue with the suffering, personifying it in keeping with the implicit anthropomorphism
with which she had spoken of the need to find a way to “work with” this seeming antagonist.
Only with appropriate timing, derived from a close attunement to the client’s process, can
an intervention find the fertile soil it requires to germinate into fresh possibilities.
Cultivating a sense of timing, as opposed to simply describing it, is harder, however. I find
that establishing presence, as discussed earlier, goes some distance in this direction, allowing
me to notice clearly the gaps, leads, implications and prospects inherent in the client’s
presentation in each and every speaking turn, at levels that are enacted as much as narrated.
But in addition to this basic noticing I find it useful to orient to the implicit question, “What
does my client need, now, in this moment, to take a further step?” Sometimes, of course, the
answer is nothing—merely permitting a productive silence to ensue, giving the client space
for further processing, in keeping with the careful psychotherapy process research of my
colleagues, Frankel, Levitt, Murray, Greenberg, and Angus (2006). But even this form of
patient waiting is a response, as is the raised eyebrow, the knowing smile, the forward lean,
the wrinkled brow that in their various ways represent an invitation to continue or say more.
Like the more obvious interventions of questions, prompts or instructions, all of these
require an intuitive read of their appropriateness in the present moment with and for the
client. I find Jung’s definition apt here: “the intuitive process is neither one of sense-
perception nor of thinking, nor yet of feeling . . . [but rather] is one of the basic functions of
the psyche, namely perception of the possibilities inherent in a situation” (Jung, 1971). Therapy
is most effective when it intuitively seeks, finds and grafts onto this emergent sense of
possibility. Methods covered in the following pages that inquire about what the client is
ready or unready to change or engage respect this principle of timing, just as many of the
indications and contraindications that preface each technique attend to its appropriateness
at a given point in the grief journey.
* In recent years I have been taking myself more literally in this respect, out of the therapy room as
well as in it. Two results are Rainbow in the Stone (Neimeyer, 2006) and The Art of Longing (Neimeyer,
2009b), both collections of poems that often arise from my clinical contact with bereaved clients, as
well as with the broader world.
† I owe this term to my colleague, Sandy Woolum, a practicing therapist and trainer in Duluth,
Minnesota.
PRESENCE, PROCESS, AND PROCEDURE • 9
PROCEDURE
Finally, of the triad of therapeutic practices outlined here, procedure is the most concrete.
Whereas presence places the alert and responsive therapist fully in an intersubjective field
shared with the client, and attention to process characterizes their subtly shifting ongoing
communication, concrete therapeutic procedures address specific goals and draw upon
identifiable change strategies. These, of course, are the focus of the cornucopia of techniques
of which this volume is chiefly comprised, each accompanied by an illustration of its use in
a concrete clinical context.
10 • ROBERT A. NEIMEYER
The range of techniques considered and the scope of their application are impressive, and
subject to any of a number of means of organizing them by population, purpose or proce-
dural features. Here, I have grouped them into clusters based on their “family resemblance”
under broad headings bearing mainly on their therapeutic intention or goal, more than
surface characteristics of the techniques themselves (e.g., whether they involve writing or
imagery, apply to adults or children, or represent one theory or another). Hence, after Part
I, Framing the Work, subsequent chapters on technique are aggregated into sections: Part II,
Modulating Emotion, Part III, Working with the Body, Part IV, Transforming Trauma, Part
V, Changing Behavior, Part VI, Reconstructing Cognition, Part VII, Encountering Resistance,
Part VIII, Finding Meaning, Part IX, Rewriting Life Narratives, Part X, Integrating the
Arts, Part XI, Consolidating Memories, Part XII, Renewing the Bond, Part XIII, Revising
Goals, Part XIV, Accessing Resources, Part XV, Grieving with Others, Part XVI, Ritualizing
Transition, and Part XVII, Healing the Healer.
References
Buber, M. (1970). I and thou. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons.
Currier, J. M., Holland, J. M., & Neimeyer, R. A. (2008). Making sense of loss: A content analysis of
end-of-life practitioners’ therapeutic approaches. Omega, 57, 121–141.
Frankel, Z. F., Levitt, H. M., Murray, D. M. Greenberg, L. S., & Angus, L. E. (2006). Assessing psycho-
therapy silences: An empirically derived categorization system and sampling strategy.
Psychotherapy Research, 16, 627–638.
Gendlin, E. T. (1996). Focusing-oriented psychotherapy. New York: Guilford.
Jung, C. G. (1971). The structure of the psyche. In The portable Jung (pp. 23–46). New York: Viking.
Kelly, G. A. (1955/1991). The psychology of personal constructs. New York: Routledge.
PRESENCE, PROCESS, AND PROCEDURE • 11
Kelly, G. A. (1977). The psychology of the unknown. In D. Bannister (Ed.), New perspectives in personal
construct theory (pp. 1–19). San Diego, CA: Academic.
Leitner, L. M., & Faidley, A. J. (1995). The awful, aweful nature of ROLE relationships. In R. A.
Neimeyer, & G. J. Neimeyer (Eds.), Advances in personal construct psychology (Vol. 3, pp. 291–314).
Greenwich, CT: JAI Press.
Mahoney, M. J. (1991). Human change processes. New York: Basic Books.
Neimeyer, R. A. (2004). Constructivist psychotherapy [video]. Washington, DC: American Psychological
Association.
Neimeyer, R. A. (2006). Rainbow in the Stone. Memphis, TN: Mercury.
Neimeyer, R. A. (2009a). Constructivist psychotherapy. London & New York: Routledge.
Neimeyer, R. A. (2009b). The art of longing. Charleston, SC: BookSurge.
Neimeyer, R. A., Burke, L., Mackay, M., & Stringer, J. (2010). Grief therapy and the reconstruction of
meaning: From principles to practice. Journal of Contemporary Psychotherapy, 40, 73–84.
Neimeyer, R. A., & Sands, D. C. (2011). Meaning reconstruction in bereavement: From principles to
practice. In R. A. Neimeyer, D. L. Harris, H. Winokuer, & G. Thornton (Eds.), Grief and bereave-
ment in contemporary society: Bridging research and practice. New York: Routledge.
Polanyi, M. (1958). Personal knowledge. New York: Harper.
Rogers, C. (1951). Client-centered therapy. Boston: Houghton Mifflin.
2
The Empathic Spirit in Grief Therapy
Jeffrey Kauffman
Like the previous chapter, this one is concerned with presence in grief therapy, emphasizing
the empathic spirit of the therapist as the foundation of the clinical process of facilitating
mourning. This stance is the ground of the therapeutic relationship, constituting the thera-
peutic space within which diverse techniques may be deployed to focus and carry out the
specific work of processing the experience of loss. My primary concern in this chapter is to
describe the empathic presence of the grief therapist, and how it functions as an interven-
tion, while also framing other specialized techniques.
THE MYSTERY
The relational dynamic activated by the therapist’s receptivity to the client’s grief operates
as the ground for therapeutic interaction. However, the relationship itself and the client’s
12
THE EMPATHIC SPIRIT IN GRIEF THERAPY • 13
experience of self in the presence of the therapist are an implicit dimension, and this does
not disclose itself explicitly. Being open to and respecting the implicit and hidden dimension
is the chief concern of this account of presence. The being or meaning of presence turns out
to be a mystery, beyond what we can see or say. And the “being there” of the grief therapist
for the client, being near to the great mystery of being human, is an openness to a sacred
space, a space in which the mourner wanders, disconnected from everyday, professional,
scientific and commercial worlds and their meanings. In the therapist’s empathic presence,
the self searching and wandering inwardly in an ineffable space of grief, is helped to find
itself and to find its way.
The pain of grief also involves a dimension that is beyond symbolization. The particulars
of grief-related pain articulated over the course of grief therapy are expressions of a wound
that goes to the invisible core of existence. In being present to the other in grief, the therapist
stands in the presence of the mystery of loss and bonding, of death and life. The client’s pain
has a dimension that is too sacred, powerful and frightening to show itself, but that is grief’s
invisible core. Likewise, the therapeutic relationship involves a dimension that stands outside
the symbolic representations of thought and language. This is not to treat a natural process
of human connectedness as something exotic or mythic, but simply to acknowledge the
depths and mysteries occurring live, as it were, in this relational field for processing grief.
As a receptive organ, the grief therapist is attuned with what Freud dubbed “free-floating
attention,” which is a technique of listening in which attention is not attached to particular
meanings, but instead is open to meanings only indirectly suggested by the client’s speech. It
is listening for what is there but not present in the client’s consciousness of him- or herself.
Free-floating attention describes a way of receiving the unknown calling forth from the
presence of the grieving client.
Being receptively present involves absorption in the emotional narrative of the mourner,
attuned to what is emotionally expressed by the client. Being present with the mourning
client involves a tolerance for not knowing, for being close by the mystery, the unknown,
merely adumbrated by the story and the emotions of the client. It is not just the object of
attention in grief therapy that retains a mysterious horizon; the process is itself full of
mysteries. While filled with the presence of the grieving client, the therapist is in the surround
of mysteries. In the presence of the power hidden in and defining the therapy relationship,
grief therapy is awake to the mystery that informs, yet exists outside of art and science. The
presence of the grief therapist is awakened in openness, love and awe by the nearness of the
unknown that overwhelms consciousness and sets mourning in motion.
grieving client. The guiding question of the therapist in holding the grief of the client is,
“What is the pain?” The empathic presence of the therapist to the pain of the client is the
necessary and sufficient condition of grief therapy, as in Rogers’ (1961) account of psycho-
therapy in general. “Being present, fully present and fully human with another person [is]
healing in and of itself” (Gellar & Greenberg, 2002; also, cf. Sheppard, Brown, & Graves,
1972).
safe passage for the mourner on their mutual journey of processing loss. It may affect not
only the loss that is acutely grieved, but also the life processing of loss that is at the heart of
meaning-making and identity. In this sense, the empathic spirit with which the therapist
receives the presence of the grieving client is an opening of the heart, which honors the other
and helps to secure and maintain their connection. In the end, the mutuality of gratitude in
grief therapy is like a state of grace; it operates in a gift economy in which there is no debt.
Embodied, and in relation to our own death, we are, however, in need of recognizing
imperfections of our gratitude and its limits, including the inevitable limits in our capacity
as therapists to hold empathically the suffering of our grieving clients.
References
Bartlett, M. A., & DeSanto, D. (2006). Gratitude and prosocial behavior. Psychological Science, 17,
319–325.
Gellar, S. M., & Greenberg, L.S. (2002). Therapeutic presence: therapists’ experience of presence in the
psychotherapy encounter. Person-Centered and Experiential Psychotherapies, 1, 71–86.
Rogers, C. R. (1961). Becoming a person. Boston: Houghton Mifflin.
Sheppard, I., Brown, E., & Graves, G. (1972). Three-on-ones (Presence). Voices, 8, 70–77.
Simmel, G. (1908/1950). The sociology of Georg Simmel (K. H. Wolff, ed. and trans.). Glencoe, IL: Free
Press.
Winnicott, D. W. (1960). The theory of the parent–child relationship. International Journal of
Psychoanalysis, 41, 585–595.
Winnicott, D. W. (1967). Mirror-role of the mother and family in child development. In P. Lomas
(Ed.), The predicament of the family (pp. 26–33). London: Hogarth.
3
Selah
A Mindfulness Guide through Grief
Joanne Cacciatore
Since the 1990s, a burgeoning number of clinicians have actively engaged in mindfulness-
based interventions (MBI), to improve outcomes both for clients and for themselves. While
initial evidence of the efficacy of MBI was primarily anecdotal (Kabat-Zinn, 1982), the
empirical data in its support is gradually mounting in the areas of mindfulness-based stress
reduction, dialectical behavioral therapy, acceptance and commitment therapy, and
mindfulness-based cognitive behavioral therapy (Hoffman, Sawyer, Witt, & Oh, 2010). Yet,
despite the potential for its utilization, few mindfulness-based paradigms have been proposed
for bereavement counseling. The Selah Grief Model is a mindfulness-based, guided
intervention that recognizes two foci: self and other. The term selah itself derives from the
Hebrew word celah, often noted in the book of Psalms to remind the reader to pause, reflect,
and contemplate meaning.
Generally, traumatic grief during early therapy manifests in a state of intense existential
suffering. It is imperative, then, that clinicians establish, first and foremost, a safe place
wherein clients are able to be with their grief, turning toward the loss, allowing the loss to
find expression. Here, the goal for the client is to enter an endogenous state of pause,
becoming fully attuned to—mindful of—their changing emotional processes through
intentional solitude (contemplation), emotional transparency with self and other, and self-
compassion and awareness. Self-compassion, for example, has been shown to reduce
self-criticism and ruminative tendencies. This may improve an individual’s ability to reflect
and learn from an experience. A client can be aided toward expression, when ready, through
mindfulness-based activities such as weeping, meditation and prayer, bibliotherapy, emotion
journaling, eco-connection through “barefoot walkabouts” (see Chapter 88 in this volume),
three-minute breathing space or conscious, deep breathing, creative arts (music, arts, poetry,
symbols), and help-seeking. Significantly, the cultivation of these capacities for mindful
awareness in the client requires a similar cultivation of a grounding mindfulness in the
therapist as a foundation for their mutual work (Cacciatore & Flint, 2012).
Once clients have become attuned to their experience, they may be better able to enter a
state of therapeutic reflection with the clinician by surrendering to the grief. The mourner’s
focus vacillates between self (client) and other (children, partner, parents, and others). Often,
it is in this state of mind and heart that the client will also learn to trust themselves: they can
be with their grief, surrender to it, and find their way toward a new normal. Clients, with the
gentle shepherding of clinicians, may wish to actively approach the often evolving emotional
states, recognizing and honoring each as valid and remaining mindful of the present moment.
16
SELAH: A MINDFULNESS GUIDE THROUGH GRIEF • 17
This can be achieved through many of the practices described in this volume, such as narra-
tive therapy—telling and retelling the story—and focusing on the associated feelings during
each telling of the story more than the facts. Writing out the story, in as much detail as
possible, can be a useful clinical homework tool. Alternatively, this can be achieved through
a feelings or adjective journal, wherein the client hones in specifically on descriptive words
and emotions. A clinician may want to encourage community support groups or faith-based
groups (when appropriate) as a way for clients to begin to see the suffering of others. This
process can aid in helping the client’s heart open to the other. Genograms can be useful in
understanding family patterns, and the clinician can engage in empathic mimicry, particu-
larly in family systems which may have been dysregulated or dysfunctional. Many bereaved
parents struggle with issues of guilt and shame, thus, one of the most expiating strategies may
be reconciliation methods. For example, I use a technique I call the apology letter. Here, the
bereaved parent writes a letter to the child who died, explaining, with specificity, what he or
she would redress, how things could or should have been different, expressing to the child
everything that the parent feels went wrongfully unspoken. Then after a period of often
profound introspection, the parent begins a letter to him or herself, ‘authored’ by the child
who died. Often the letters are full of forgiveness and compassion directed toward the parent
absolving them of responsibility with assurances of an enduring and loving bond.
When parents feel ready, their perspective begins to change, and the emotions surrounding
their child’s death become qualitatively different. Meaning begins to—very gradually—
unfold from the suffering, and having gained some psychological equilibrium, they feel
better equipped to turn the heart toward the suffering other or toward a greater calling. It is
a process of transforming, not abandoning, painful emotional states. Clinicians can help the
bereaved explore and discover, when they are ready, their call toward the greater good.
Practices such as random acts of kindness, leading a support group, volunteering, fellowship
with like others, gratitude journals, and psychoeducation may all inspire responsible action.
The heart is now ready to turn more fully to service toward the other. In a support group, for
example, a client may focus on others’ stories of loss with less impulse to divulge his or her
own story. It is this transformation that will, in the end, help the traumatically bereaved
come full circle in the aftermath of the unthinkable. Figure 3.1 summarizes the Selah model.
CASE EXAMPLE
Jim is a 50-year-old father who lost his eldest son, age 23, to suicide nearly three years before
seeking therapy. He had attended several support groups in the immediate weeks following his
son’s death, but never returned because he felt awkward. Jim described himself as dysfunctional,
noting that he went to his job every day but had withdrawn from friends and social activities
because of what he perceived to be the insensitivity of others toward his loss. Jim had lost consid-
erable weight over the past few years, and suffered from insomnia, nightmares, intense emotional
outbursts, paralyzing anger, and intrusive thoughts of the death. Jim often avoided thinking
about his son, and even had great difficulty looking at photographs of him, to the point of
removing them from the walls of his home. He sought therapy when he realized that the rela-
tional quality with his surviving child was diminishing. Jim’s first visit lasted two and a half
hours, as I focused on listening mindfully to his story, paying homage to the moments of emotional
silence between his thoughts, and being mindful not to interrupt his deliberate and unhurried
communication style. This helped build trust in this new therapeutic relationship so that Jim felt
unrushed, “finally heard and seen,” and aware that I was able to tolerate his emotional state,
which he described as overwhelming to most others. At last, Jim had his willing witness.
Our first eight to ten sessions focused on allowing Jim to be with his grief unconditionally and
non-judgmentally, willing to join him even in what he called the dark places. He learned to be
18 • JOANNE CACCIATORE
honest about his current emotional state, trusting that I would accept anything he presented. He
began daily quiet time—meditation—starting with ten minutes in both the morning and evening.
He kept an emotion journal and realized that a certain symbol, the firefly, represented his son and
had special meaning. He began to intentionally look for them throughout the day. During the fifth
session, he focused on an amorphous rage he felt. We discussed what mindful rage might look like:
(1) recognizing anger/rage as it arose within him while it was happening; (2) approaching the
anger with curiosity and openness; (3) asking the question: What is this anger in this moment
really about for me?; (4) taking three or more deep, slow breaths; and (5) if those things don’t
work at that time, walk away from the situation/person. He began using progressive relaxation
during times when he felt like “blowing up.” By the tenth session, Jim felt substantial relief from
the rage, confirmed by his emotion journal, which we reviewed weekly. His sleep patterns began to
improve and nightmares ceased. By the 13th session, he had regained eight pounds.
SELAH: A MINDFULNESS GUIDE THROUGH GRIEF • 19
When Jim felt he was ready, we began to more actively approach his grief. This included
becoming increasingly aware of the nuanced, sometimes conflicted, feelings around his son’s
death. In his retelling of the story, Jim recognized a previously undiscovered sense of guilt and
shame around his son’s suicide. He realized he held a belief that others perceived his son as
“weak” and that he hadn’t done enough to help him. This unearthed a strong sense of parental
responsibility, culminating in a very emotional disclosure: Jim felt his son’s death was ultimately
his fault. We began a new series of apology letters to Mark wherein Jim expressed his feelings of
failure. He detailed the times he wasn’t there for Mark and wrote about all the events he’d missed
during Mark’s childhood. He expressed his regret for not having answered his phone on the day
of Mark’s suicide. Then he asked Mark’s forgiveness. I asked Jim to wait at least 30 minutes, and
in the same journal, write a reply from Mark to him.“What would Mark say to you,” I asked,
“now that you’ve asked his forgiveness?” This was a seminal and compelling exercise for Jim. He
said he “cried until he had no tears left,” and that “it felt so good, I could almost hear his voice,
saying, ‘Dad, I love you.’ ”
As Jim surmounted some of the guilt and shame, his relationship with his surviving son
improved and he began making new friends. He also began attending a support group for
bereaved parents every month. He eventually regained all the weight he had lost, and was able to
talk about Mark freely, even putting his photos up around the house. About two years after Jim’s
intake, he expressed a desire to help other bereaved fathers, and he is now a regular volunteer,
helping many other grieving parents since. While Jim’s journey through grief has not ended, and
it likely will never reach a final conclusion, he has developed the skills necessary to allow him to
be with his grief, surrender to it, and then do something with it. He has a better chance of living
a fulfilling life, one dedicated to serving others. And guiding him mindfully through the process,
seeing him through to the other side of traumatic grief, has helped inspire me to continue this
very difficult work.
CONCLUDING THOUGHTS
Recent studies have shown that mindfulness-based interventions (MBI) have been used
effectively to treat depression, anxiety, and other mood disorders (Hoffman et al., 2010) as
well as a host of physiological ailments such as hypertension, chronic pain, and improved
brain functioning and immune responses (Davidson, Kabat-Zinn, Schumacher, et al., 2003;
Kabat-Zinn, 1982). However, to date, the treatment of clients with traumatic bereavement
has been overlooked in the literature on MBI. The Selah Grief Model is such an MBI that
promises an enriching relationship between grieving clients and their clinicians: One that
unites them during suffering in pause, reflection, and meaning, as mourners find their own
path in their own time.
References
Cacciatore, J., & Flint, M. (2012). ATTEND: Toward a mindfulness-based bereavement care model.
Death Studies, in press.
Davidson, R., Kabat-Zinn, J., Schumacher, J., Rosenkranz, M., Muller, D., Santorelli, S., Urbanowski,
F., Harrington, A., Bonus, K., & Sheridan, J. (2003). Alterations in brain and immune function
produced by mindfulness meditation. Psychosomatic Medicine, 65(2), 564–570.
Hoffman, S., Sawyer, A., Witt, A., & Oh, D. (2010). The effect of mindfulness-based cognitive therapy
on anxiety and depression: a meta-analytic review. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology,
78(2), 169–183.
Kabat-Zinn, J. (1982). An outpatient program in behavioral medicine for chronic pain patients based
on the practice of mindfulness meditation: Theoretical considerations and preliminary results.
General Hospital Psychiatry, 4, 33–37.
4
Tracking through Bereavement
A Framework for Intervention
Simon Shimshon Rubin
As this book amply demonstrates, there are myriad methods on which clinicians can draw
in working with bereaved clients. These range from emotion modulation strategies and
mindfulness practices through techniques for renegotiating the continuing bond and
honoring the loved one’s memory with expressive arts modalities. But given the great
range of techniques, how can professionals choose one that is appropriate with a given
client, suffering a specific loss, at a particular moment in therapy? My goal in this
brief chapter is to illustrate how the Two-Track Model of Bereavement (TTMB; Rubin,
1999) can help therapists coordinate therapeutic interventions in light of the client’s
needs, by drawing on it for conceptual, assessment and intervention purposes. Bereaved
individuals and families typically find this framework helpful as well (Rubin, Malkinson, &
Witztum, 2012).
The Two-Track Model of Bereavement looks at the response to loss as requiring people
to find a way to continue their lives, as well as to renegotiate the psychological relationship
to the person who has died. Track I of the model addresses biopsychosocial functioning and
Track II focuses on the past and ongoing relationship to the deceased. An adaptive response
to bereavement will balance attention to the challenges of life with a flexible connection to
the deceased. When difficulties in the response to loss occur, they typically reflect some
degree of interdependence of the tracks, which is often the case early in bereavement, as
well as in a more persistent fashion in cases of complicated grief. Alternatively, difficulties
may be manifest on only one of the tracks and assessment and intervention should take
this into account. One implication of this is that even in the absence of biopsychosocial
difficulties, we cannot assume the bereavement response is adaptive without information
on the pre-loss and post-loss experience of the relationship with the deceased. If functioning
appears adequate and yet memories of the deceased are rigidly avoided, the determination
of positive outcome applies only to Track I. If a full and balanced bond with the deceased
is described and yet there are indications of significant difficulty in one or more areas
of biopsychosocial functioning, one may speak of positive outcome on Track II and
difficulties on Track I. Relationships may seem to be set aside and deactivated, but this is
not equivalent to having grieved and reorganized the relationship to the significant
person who has died. Assessing for relevant problems in both domains (see Table 4.1)
can assist the therapist in conceptualizing the case in a more comprehensive manner,
and using this to identify an appropriate intervention, as illustrated in the case example
to follow.
20