Tender Growth

Lisa Story on April 15, 2026

The Misunderstood Language of Care

“Rest, Relax, & Restore!” and “Take care of yourself.”  Words Hope Grows has uttered over the course of their mission. Words that are often offered with the best of intentions. And yet, for caregivers and those grieving, they can feel hollow—even frustrating.

At Hope Grows, we understand the difficulty, we know that your world has shifted, rest is not always restorative. Stillness can feel loud. And balance is not something you find—it is something you practice, moment by moment. Emotional regulation, too, becomes an ongoing act of patience. Not perfection. Not control. But gentle returning.

April arrives with a quiet insistence. Like the slow unfurling of a petal. Again, and again. Like breath. Not the bold certainty of summer, nor the deep stillness of winter—but something far more delicate. A season of becoming. A season of tender growth.

Fragile Beginnings

There is a moment—often quiet, often unnoticed—when caregiving begins. It may not feel like a beginning at all. It may feel like an interruption, a disruption, or an overwhelming shift. But beneath it, something new has taken root.

Tender. Uncertain. Fragile.

The same is true in grief. When we lose someone we love, the world does not simply pause—it changes. And in that change, we find ourselves at the beginning of something we never asked for. A new way of being. A new landscape to navigate.

Like April soil, recently stirred, we are not yet steady. We are not yet strong. We are simply… beginning.

A Lesson from the Garden

This week, I planted lettuce and herbs—my first planting of the season. It felt hopeful. A small act of trust in what is to come. And yet, as April reminds us, hope requires attention. Freezing temperatures are in the forecast. Which means I must remain vigilant—watching the weather, covering the plants, protecting them from forces beyond their control. 

And as I tend to them, I am reminded of what it means to care for something in its early stages. This is what it means to honor fragility. Not by forcing growth, but by protecting it.

In nature, this tenderness is easy to see. The soft emergence of tulips, their petals still learning how to open. The tulips, bright yet vulnerable, bending with each passing wind. The earth, recently thawed, offering just enough warmth to invite new life forward—but not without risk.

This is not a season of full bloom. This is a season of fragile beginnings. And so, it is for caregivers. And so, it is for those who are grieving.

Protecting Your Tender Growth

Shielding, protecting, defending. There are seasons in life where we, too, require this kind of care. Where nourishment is disrupted. Where energy is depleted. Where even the idea of reaching out for community feels distant—misaligned with what our soul is quietly asking for.

Confusing?? For sure!! This concept is unclear because we are told that connection is healing. And it is. But there are moments when what we need first is not outward connection—but inward protection. A covering, a boundary, a gentle tending to our own internal climate.

Like placing a cloth over young plants to shield them from frost, we are allowed to create spaces of safety for ourselves.

This may look like:

  • Saying no without explanation
  • Stepping away from noise or expectation
  • Choosing rest in a way that feels right, not prescribed
  • Allowing emotions to come and go without urgency to “fix” them

This is not withdrawal. This is wisdom.

The Symbolism of April: Tulip & Geranium

It would not be me if I didn’t bring in some symbolism with this month’s flower and essential oil pick. The tulip, April’s flower, carries the essence of gentle emergence. It does not rush its bloom. It responds to its environment—opening when conditions allow, closing when they do not. There is much to learn from the rhythm of nature. There is some level of permission with this flower. There is permission to open slowly, permission to close when needed, and permission to honor your own timing.

Geranium, April’s essential oil, speaks to emotional balance—not as a fixed state, but as a living rhythm. It reminds us that steadiness is not the absence of feeling, but the ability to move with our emotions rather than against them. In part, the reason we put Geranium essential oil in our Signature Blend that we sell here at Hope Grows. Together, they offer a quiet message of not having to be fully open to grow and not having to feel balanced to find your way.

Continue through April with a Gentle Reflection

April is not asking you to bloom.

It is asking you to tend.

Written by Lisa Story, MSCP, LPC, CT
Hope Grows Founder & Director

At Hope Grows, we support those grieving a loss. If you are struggling, reach out to connect. Call us at 412.369.4673 or email [email protected].

Written by Lisa Story, MSCP, LPC, CT
Founder of Hope Grows

Focus of the Month: Tender Growth
Essential Oil: Geranium
Flower: Tulip

Disclaimer: This site offers information designed for educational purposes only. You should not rely on any information on this site as a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, treatment, or as a substitute for professional counseling care, advice, diagnosis, or treatment. If you have any concerns or questions about your health, you should always consult with a physician or other healthcare professional.

Delight

Lisa Story on May 5, 2025

Every part of the spring season can be a delightful scene dancing in front of us. The new growth is there for the taking, everywhere, watching the results of the softened earth from the melting snow and spring rains. The season beckons a positive emotional response, but when sadness or grief is present, finding the space to bloom can feel like the remaining late frost of the winter, stunting any sign of delight.

Our focus for the month is delight. Delight is defined as “a high degree of pleasure, satisfaction, or joy.” Pleasure or joy when caring for a child with a terminal illness or a medically complex condition can feel like the remaining chilly winter air rushing in from time to time. Finding any delight with this much heaviness are unwanted and unpleasant feelings that intertwine with every moment of care given. The idea of delight may feel distant, even impossible, when exhaustion, sorrow, and worry take up so much space.

While I may not know or understand your pain, I can find lessons in nature that may help. The beauty of spring can resemble grand delight, especially after the baren winter season. The flowering magnolia, the pink of the quince flowers, and the white blossoms of the cherry trees at Hope Grows feel welcoming. However, when we focus on any delight in this space of grief and sadness, it may feel a bit too grand, so we push it aside and continue with the heaviness, feeling cheated out of any delight it can bring.

Where can we nourish and savor moments of delight? At Hope Grows, we have been blessed to be a part of many caregiver stories, sometimes receiving more than we give. In addition to providing support, we engage in the message of the mission, inspiring hope through nature while empowering wellness of mind, body, and spirit. The nature part of the mission teaches about the reciprocal benefits: while nature gives, we receive. This is where true connection, not just in nature, but in our relationships with our care receivers occur. We must be open to not just the giving of care, but the receiving of it as well.

Gardening in spring is challenging. As we pay attention to the changing weather, we find a need to protect the new growth and the blossoms as best we can. We may consider covering the flowering trees as best we can when the night air may be too cold. Our instinct is to protect. I remember a few years ago covering the viburnum tree in the Garden of Hope during a cold snap. The effort and the time it took helped a little to protect the blossoms, but in the end, the decision moving forward was “not to bother again” and let nature takes its course. The message here is that we tried and we can look at our own well-being in this way. Now tending to our own self-care is a bit different than covering a small tree; however, the difficulty of finding the time, protecting, and placing value is real. Cultivating wellness of self may feel like a grand plan that defeats us before we begin, but the key here is to start small.

Spring is so special, and so are you. As the season pulls us out of the deepness of winter, we begin to find small moments of new growth finding the sun and protecting itself during fragile moments. We too can find space in the heaviness of caring for a child with a terminal illness or medically complex condition. One caregiver comes to mind, standing out as someone who looks at the cold rush of winter’s air, and instead of hindering any delight, experiences delightful moments in small ways. Noticing how her child’s eyes light up from a familiar voice, the comfort received from a shared touch, and the quiet presence of love that exists beyond words. I find the spirituality and faith of this caregiver worthy of delight. She was able to engage little by little with Hope Grows services and then eventually an overnight stay at the Iris Respite House. She found quiet space where beauty, love, and presence exist, despite the rush of chilly air in her changing climate.

In this experience, I believe the message for delight is to capture the good, not the bad. Moments of grace do not remove the sorrow, but they offer a breath within it. Try to find grace in the way your child’s hand feels in yours, in the rhythm of their breathing as they rest, in the way light filters through the window onto their face. Or it might be in the kindness of a nurse who truly sees you, in a deep inhale of fresh air when you step outside, in the way a favorite scent or texture momentarily eases the tension in your body. Another small moment is allowing yourself time to breath, leaning into support, or acknowledging the depth of what you carry.

Capturing the good does not mean pretending the bad is not there. It means allowing the small, good moments to matter—to be noticed, to be felt, even if just for a few seconds. Maybe write them down in a notebook, whisper them in gratitude before bed, or simply let yourself linger in them when they happen. Just as in nature, capture the spring blossoms in small moments of delight. While the chilly air is real, I suggest choosing to notice the beauty in front of you. As fleeting as it might be, “nature is one place we can surrender all control.”

Tending to your own well-being in this space might look different than it does for others. It is not about forcing joy but recognizing that even in sorrow, there can be moments of grace. Those moments, however small, can feel like life is whispering to you. Start with “just 10 minutes” at a time – such an honest, raw way to frame pleasant moments – because when life is this heavy, sometimes that is all you can hold, “just 10 minutes.” Grace makes room for delight—not as something forced or artificial, but as something quiet and real.

Connect in the delight of the reciprocal relationship!

Written by Lisa Story, MSCP, LPC, CT
Founder & Clinical Director

Tranquility

Lisa Story on April 2, 2025

Confidence in bloom is the vibe in the Healing Gardens of the Iris Respite House. The vibrant yellow of the daffodil flowers catch my attention as I contemplate how much I struggle this time of year with the transition between winter and spring. Just the other day, I had a burst of energy from the lingering of winter when a bit of snow flurries hovered over us. Opposite of what springing forth is about, I know, but the lightly falling snow, as it may, left me intrigued. It was definitely competing with the new growth of the changing season and that was exactly what my soul was doing.

The unrest of the soul is somewhat frustrating, as the weather flip flops during this time of year, wanting to stay a bit recluse still, but the change of season tells me a different story. I woke to a soft rain today as I began to write this blog. The temperature was a bit warmer than my body can handle. I am sure it is from the collide of the warmer temps with the rain, creating humidity. I’m not a fan of humidity, probably why I like Arizona so much. Humidity seems to drain my energy, but none the less, I persevered. I focused back to the sound and sight of outside, listening to the harmonious birdsong from the open window. The birds gave an uncaring impression regarding the unrest of my soul.

Spring is a beautiful example of nature’s resilience. The plants continue to be in full harmony with the season of equinox, bursting with hidden beauty from the dormancy of winter’s cold. Dormancy, a time of rest and conservation, ensuring the plant has the strength to flourish again, winter is akin to the concept of restoration that I value. My soul does what the month of April represents, a combination of tranquility and vibrant energy.

On the surface, the gardens feel calm, with gentle rain, soft blossoms, and the tender green of emerging leaves. Yet, beneath the calmness is a tremendous surge of life. Its almost as if one can feel the earth moving below, with this tug and pull of transition echoing my human experience. After the winter’s period of stillness and reflection, there is often an instinctual push to grow and reach. But growth doesn’t always feel graceful – it can be chaotic, raw, and powerful. The plants, though, seem to embrace this contradiction, thriving in both the calm and the intensity.

It makes perfect sense, winter’s stillness; it can feel like a sanctuary. Offering a kind of peace that’s hard to let go of when the change of season begins to rush forward again. The contrast between my inner rhythm and the outward surge of spring creates a desire to stay hidden, to linger in the restorative embrace of winter.

That feeling is deeply valid and if you recognize a similarity, you just might find comfort in seeking small ways to extend the sense of winter’s calm, even as nature’s landscape bursts around you. Try mindful moments in shaded spaces, connecting with the lingering coolness of early mornings, or simply honoring the slower pace your body craves. I have been finding peace and tranquility with the sounds that April brings in the mornings. The birds and the early morning chill in the air creates a special, calming atmosphere for me. When everything feels still, there is a unique kind of tranquility. As I retreat to nature in the morning, I’m surrounded by the calm, activating my senses and inviting a bit of serenity.

A little help from nature can promote calm; however, true tranquility comes from a deep sense of inner stability—one that isn’t dependent on external circumstances but is cultivated through presence, acceptance, and connection. For a caregiver, this might mean acknowledging the weight of responsibility while also allowing moments of stillness, no matter how brief, to replenish the spirit. It comes from embracing the ebb and flow of life rather than resisting it, finding meaning in both the challenges and the quiet spaces in between.

Spiritual connection can indeed foster peace. At least, that is what nature does for me; it speaks to my soul. Tranquility is often rooted in surrender—letting go of what cannot be controlled, breathing deeply into the moment, and finding solace in simple things, like the warmth of sunlight, the rhythm of breath, or the quiet companionship of nature, especially during moments of resistance.

You may also want to consider where you are placing the control. Is it external or internal? In reference to psychology terms, we can either have an External or Internal Locus of Control. It is about recognizing the balance between what you can influence and what is beyond your control. Each plays a role in shaping resilience. In caregiving, where the emotional and physical demands can be overwhelming, fostering an Internal Locus of Control is about empowerment and ownership. An Internal Locus of Control means believing that your actions, choices, and mindset shape your experience. It cultivates a sense of agency even in difficult circumstances.

Use this time of year, the confidence in bloom, to foster tranquility. If you are feeling a bit unsettled, like I am right now, remember that letting go is a practice, not a destination—one that is nurtured through appreciation, reflection, and compassionate care for both others and oneself. It is the reciprocal relationship that occurs between self and nature.

Happy Spring!

Lisa Story, MSCP, LPC, CT
Founder & Clinical Director

How To Protect Your Peace: Setting Boundaries & Knowing Yourself

Lisa Story on June 4, 2024

In thinking about this month’s focus, “Protecting Your Peace,” I began MY life. What does it mean to “protect your peace?” Protecting your peace often starts by identifying what’s weighing on your soul. In my story, I found out I was expecting early in my new marriage. Although young and scared, we made our child and her well-being our priority, setting boundaries that supported a calm and nurturing home. 

In caring for her needs, I was also protecting our peace and modeling what a balanced life could look like. However, I know that’s not always how the journey begins. Whether you’ve been practicing for years or are just starting to pay attention to your own well-being, Hope Grows’ counseling services and resources can offer guidance along the way. To start, here are the basics of protecting your peace.

The Meaning Of Protecting Your Peace

Protecting your peace means identifying and addressing what makes you feel uneasy and making choices that honor your emotional, mental, and spiritual well-being. At the heart of this practice is self-awareness. When you know what drains you, what restores you, and where your limits lie, you begin to live with more intention. The key is learning to recognize your limits without guilt and giving yourself permission to step back when your soul needs space.

Unfortunately, it can be hard to gain those skills alone. Virtual mental health counseling can offer support, insight, and a safe space to grow your awareness and confidence, right from where you are

In the sections that follow, we’ll explore how to identify your personal peace-disruptors, set boundaries with compassion, and develop habits that help you return to yourself whenever you’ve been disconnected for too long.

How To Protect Your Peace Online

Watching my children now raise their own families, I’m struck by how technology and media seem to reach into every part of our lives, shaping values, overwhelming attention, and quietly disturbing our peace of mind.

The internet may be loud and fast, but we still get to choose how we move through it. We can lead with values, model thoughtful engagement, and set boundaries that protect both our own well-being and the emotional safety of those around us. Here’s where to begin:

  • Open Communication: Make space for ongoing conversations about how online content impacts emotions, thoughts, and values. This can be a conversation with a loved one, professional, or even a journal practice — whatever gets the conversation started and ongoing.
  • Model Thoughtful Engagement: Use technology in a way that reflects your values. Take intentional breaks, avoid doom-scrolling, and engage with content that uplifts or informs.
  • Create Digital Boundaries: Designate tech-free times or spaces in your home. Protect the quiet parts of your day from digital noise.
  • Supervise With Curiosity, Not Control: For kids and teens, stay involved in their digital life with a spirit of curiosity. Guide rather than monitor.
  • Practice Content Discernment: Ask yourself: Does this content feed my peace or drain it? Choose sources and voices that align with your well-being.
  • Support Digital Education: Encourage schools and community spaces to prioritize digital literacy, emotional intelligence, and respectful online interaction.

How To Protect Your Peace At Work

Peace at work is often disturbed in quiet, persistent ways, including through constant interruptions, unmet expectations, or the subtle pressure to do more than you’re able. As so many of us spend the bulk of our waking hours in these environments, how we move through our workday matters. Protecting your peace at work isn’t about control; it’s about intention.

  • Know Your Limits: Sometimes, perfectionists, people-pleasers, and highly ambitious people take on more work than they can handle in a healthy way. Before you sign up for extra work or take on another project, take a moment to ask, “Can I really handle this?” Honor your response.
  • Protect the Edges of Your Day: Begin and end your workday with something that belongs to you, reading, movement, stillness, or anything else that you love. This helps to ensure that work doesn’t spill into every corner of your life.
  • Tend to Micro-Moments: A deep breath between emails or a pause before a meeting may seem small, but over time, these moments recalibrate your energy and mindset.
  • Don’t Confuse Urgency With Importance: Just because something demands your attention doesn’t mean it deserves your peace. Pause before reacting.
  • Let Silence Do the Heavy Lifting: Not everything needs a response. Sometimes your calm presence is more powerful than words.

How to Protect Your Peace at Home

Home should be a place of rest, safety, and alignment with your values. It’s where we not only recover from the world but also shape how we move through it. As I studied psychology, I was especially drawn to Kohlberg’s theory of moral development, which teaches that true moral reasoning stems not from fear or reward, but from an internal sense of justice and compassion.

This kind of ethical clarity begins at home. When our living spaces support our values, they nurture our peace and growth. We can protect our peace at home through practicing presence, boundary-setting, and care. Here are some ways you can put the practice of protecting your peace at home into action:

  • Create Rhythms, Not Just Routines: Instead of strict schedules, lean into steady rhythms that honor your energy. Light a candle at the same time each evening, take a walk after dinner, or pause for five minutes of stillness before bed. Let peace be part of your daily flow.
  • Clear Clutter With Care: A cluttered space can lead to a cluttered mind. You don’t need to go minimalist, just tend to your surroundings with attention and intention. A tidy space can open up room to breathe.
  • Protect Quiet Time: Whether you live alone or with a full house, carve out small moments of quiet just for you. Even ten minutes behind a closed door can help you return to yourself.
  • Speak Gently: The words we use at home shape the energy in our space. Try softening your tone and offering grace in moments of frustration, including with yourself.
  • Make Space for Joy: Don’t just manage your household, make space to enjoy it. Add beauty where you can. Say yes to a slow breakfast. Laugh more. Joy is a form of protection, too.

How To Protect Your Peace With Others 

Relationships are a core part of life, but they can also be where our peace is most easily lost. Even with the people we love, not being understood and experiencing emotional overextension can leave us feeling unmoored. Protecting your peace helps you choose how you show up and what you’re willing to hold.

  • Choose Connection Over Control: You can’t change how others think or act, but you can choose how you respond. Focus on staying grounded in your own values rather than trying to manage someone else’s behavior.
  • Respond, Don’t Absorb: Other people’s emotions are theirs to carry. You can listen with compassion without taking on what isn’t yours. It’s okay to care deeply without carrying everything.
  • Know When to Step Back: Not every conflict needs to be resolved right away. Sometimes peace looks like pausing, taking space, and returning to the conversation when clarity, not defensiveness, is leading.
  • Speak What’s True and Kind: Honest communication protects your peace more than silence ever will. Express what you need with clarity, but do so from a place of care.
  • Let Love Be Spacious: Real love isn’t clingy or urgent. It has room for breathing, boundaries, and differences. Relationships don’t have to be perfect to be deeply meaningful; they just need mutual respect and space to grow.

How To Protect Your Inner Peace

Sometimes, the greatest threat to our peace isn’t the outside world — it’s the quiet pressure we place on ourselves. The inner critic, the unrealistic expectations, the guilt for resting, or the tendency to keep going even when our bodies ask us to slow down. Protecting your peace with yourself is about learning to become a softer, more faithful companion to your own heart. Here are some practices to implement to help protect your inner peace with yourself:

  • Make Rest a Non-Negotiable: You don’t have to earn rest. Build it into your life the way you would a meeting or a task. Let stillness be something you’re allowed, not something you have to justify.
  • Be Honest About What You Need: Don’t wait until you’re breaking down to check in with yourself. Ask often: “What are my emotional, physical, and spiritual needs today?”
  • Relax: You’re not here to be efficient. You’re here to be whole. Let go of the pressure to always be doing, and allow yourself time to simply be.
  • Honor Your Inner Voice: Intuition is a kind of wisdom. When something feels off, listen. When something feels right, trust it. Your inner knowing is part of your peace.
  • Forgive Yourself Often: You’re going to get it wrong sometimes. Be tender in those moments. You deserve grace.

Protecting Your Mental Health: Hope Grows Has a Helping Hand

Peace of mind doesn’t happen by accident. It’s cultivated through intentional habits, such as prioritizing rest, setting boundaries, connecting with nature, and engaging in things that restore rather than drain.

So take a breath. Turn off the noise. Step outside. Protecting your peace creates a ripple effect for your heart, soul, family, community, and the next generation.

At Hope Grows, we take a comprehensive approach to mental health counseling and offer virtual support to meet you where you are. Whether it’s through quiet reflection, time in nature, or a compassionate conversation, we’re here to help you hold onto your peace, even when life feels unsteady. Reach out when you’re ready. Your well-being matters.

Finding Meaning in Life

Lisa Story on May 3, 2024

I am an early riser. Most mornings, I awake before the sun and I sit and sip my coffee or tea and listen to the sounds of nature. Right now, the morning is filled with bird song and the exchange of different melodies. I learned that 90% of wildlife, including some of the Audubon population, mate for life; however, the majority of songbirds’ only mate for a season.

With this month’s focus, I ponder the meaning of life. It appears that the wildlife’s search for meaning only includes food, water, shelter, and safety; the daily efforts of survival. At least it looks that way from my window (except when you catch a baby fox that wondered into the trap destined for the destructive groundhog; a game of catch and release).

I digress for a moment and then joyful singing becomes the focus again. I always thought joyful music came from the birds until one day, when I heard different sounds – in particular, a robin. I was surprised at the change in the melody and then noticed a disruption of the nest and the loss of their eggs and young. Researching the possibilities of grief among wildlife, I learned that birds have legitimate cries of sadness.

Human loss and the sounds of sadness are profound as well. Grief, the normal and natural reaction to loss – any loss – is different for everyone. While mourning is the process that one goes through in adapting to the loss, bereavement is the period that defines the loss to which the person is trying to adapt.

Grief is experienced emotionally, cognitively, physically, spiritually, socially, economically, and behaviorally. While these experiences are not inclusive, it can affect every part of us. The deepest of these is spiritual. At least, that has been my experience, along with most of those I have provided support for. The loss of purpose and meaning in life can rock us to the very core of our existence.

At Hope Grows, we talk a lot about loss, and not just loss from death. Loss is painful. The first night of the graduate grief class I teach involves naming and listing everything that represents a loss. As students engage, the loss of a job, a relationship, a car, a passing grade, the ability to walk, and freedom, to name a few, begin to fill the chalkboard. Soon, an exchange regarding the loss from the death of someone is shared. Discussion evolves to the ability to pivot in difficult situations.

Last month, we shared an article about pivoting and if we focus on what matters most and align our actions with our values, a more meaningful and fulfilling life is the result. Does this really apply though, when struggling through loss? And then, what happens when someone loses their way? Finding and having meaning in life is imperative to good overall well-being, so we are told. It is also at the core of spiritual health.

I, for one, believe that society is in a period of mourning, one of chronic pain that sees no end. The news portrays a society that appears to be challenged from a loss of self, purpose, and identity; spirituality seems to be missing. As mental health needs rise, the cries of sadness seem to go unheard. Mental health needs are at record highs. Young teenagers are flocking to the ER hospitals for depression and anxiety, people are afraid for their safety, the older population struggle with moving from the home they loved, family caregivers are stressed with increased demands, and thirty somethings are struggling to find their way in the job market.

The chronic pain goes on and on, but then, just like in nature, the sounds of sadness can change. How do we help society change the sound of its cries? When one’s soul goes off-center, the antidote is compassion and kindness. Human spiritually evokes existential questions about suffering and meaning, and any validation can help nourish a tired and weary soul, providing a sense of comfort and connection.

I have been in chronic pain (loss) most of my life, physically and spiritually. I have a degenerative spine, arthritis and stenosis, Chronic Fatigue, Lyme’s disease, and several other chronic viruses that go in and out of remission. I’m not sure how long I have had these viruses, since most of adult life doctors always pushed the symptoms aside by calling them “acute” and that it was “all in my head.” It wasn’t until I found a wonderful Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine who became the compassionate and kind soul, validating my symptoms and applying the correct testing to locate the problems.

My apologies, I digress again, but my point is that I had empathy, understanding, and encouragement of practical support. I was then able to explore the deepness of the pain and implement self-care practices that worked. Keep in mind, whatever the loss, it requires a holistic approach that addresses the symptoms, the emotions, and the spiritual needs.

One way to support someone in pain, whether it be individual loss or the societal loss that I was referring, is community. We need to come together and spread kindness. Just like the child blowing the seeds of the spent dandelion into the wind, new growth can happen.

Other ways to help someone in chronic pain, whether it is physical, emotional, or spiritual:

  • Empathy and understanding
  • Encouraging self-care practices
  • Providing practical support
  • Encouraging connection and support
  • Promoting spiritual exploration.

Check out our simple suggestions in this week’s “Think Caregiver” email for further tips on this topic.

In summary, helping someone with chronic pain involves addressing their physical symptoms, emotional well-being, and spiritual needs with empathy, compassion, and practical support. By attending to the person’s holistic needs, you can contribute to their healing journey and support their overall well-being, including – and most importantly – the health of their soul. Keep in mind, a dose of nature can be helpful too!

Written by Lisa Story, MSCP, LPC, CT
Hope Grows Founder & Clinical Director

Reluctancy

Lisa Story on March 4, 2024

Leonard Cohen, from his song, Anthem, once said: “there is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” I find this to be fascinating. As we all know, our first reaction to a significant loss is a crack, if you will, in our life, and we choose, from the pain, to be reluctant to let any light shine in.

At least it was for me. I remember when I first heard the words, “Dad has pancreatic cancer,” no light was getting through, and for a long while his dying process was handled with busy-ness and avoidance of the reality. While in the mode of visiting him and caring for him, adrenaline kept me going. I thought if I kept myself busy, attending to the family, working, visiting my dad, and taking care of all of the paperwork for him, I could avoid the inevitable: his death.

Boy, was I wrong. If you know me, watched any of the Hope Grows historical videos, or read any of my blog articles, I didn’t just mourn my dad when he died…I mourned my mom who died 20 years prior as well. You see, I was reluctant to believe she died when I was 22 years old and, more importantly, thought that if I didn’t think about her death and got on with my life, I would be just fine.

Wrong! All I did was delay my grief. It came back with a vengeance and bit me in the butt rather hard when my dad died. I mourned both of them, as if they died together. It wasn’t until I let the light shine in, did I then evaluate and learn what I had to offer from my pain.

At that time, I was reluctant; unwilling and resistant to see and learn what was ahead of my pain. Luckily for me, my dad spoke to me through a dream. I was NOT reluctant to believe in a divine intervention through that particular night’s dream. My dad loved being outside, in nature, doing something adventurous, so it was apropos that the dream was of nature. The night of his visit – dream, divine intervention, whatever you what to believe or call it – he took me for a walk in a beautiful garden. The sun rays, the light from it, if you will, was the focus, shining down on me with his smiling face in it.

After waking, I allowed my higher self to begin to see that there was something beyond the dark. I got to a place where I eventually provided a “gift of grief,” as Therese Tappouni shares in her book, The Gifts of Grief, Finding Light in the Darkness of Loss. You see, I had to address the past, the pain and loss, to heal from it. As a grief counselor and educator, I’ve always said, there is no way to heal from grief other than to go through it. And that became the journey of my grief: going through it and not being reluctant from the lesson it was teaching me. From there, my higher self allowed for the gift: the creation of Hope Grows.

So, where does the reluctancy of grieving stem from? Various ways in which we grieve, with the main one stemming from the emotional pain and heartache that comes from loss. Grieving can be emotionally draining, not to mention it can affect us cognitively, physically, spiritually, socially, financially, and behaviorally. Other than the avoidance of the emotional pain and heartache, reluctance can come
from:

  • Time and Energy Constraints: Other obligations, such as work or family requires a significant investment of time and energy.
  • Financial Concerns: Closing out an estate is expensive and time consuming; putting death affairs in order is daunting.
  • Lack of Support: Mourning the loss from death leads to feelings of isolation and burnout. Even with adequate support from family, friends, or community resources, grievers may feel reluctant to reach out.
  • Impact on Personal Life: Balancing all duties with personal needs and aspirations can be challenging. Grievers may feel reluctant and/or think they have to sacrifice their own goals, hobbies, or social life to process loss.
  • Health Concerns: Mourning a loss can take a toll on one’s physical and mental health. Reluctance may arise from concerns about the impact on one’s own wellbeing.

Addressing reluctancy with grief often requires a multifaceted approach that involves recognizing and addressing the underlying causes, seeking support from others, and implementing strategies to manage stress and maintain a healthy balance between all of life’s responsibilities, including personal well-being. This can include seeking respite care, joining support groups, setting boundaries, and practicing self-care techniques. With all of that, Hope Grows is here to support you through your loss and to help with any reluctancy you may be experiencing.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention our essential oil and flower for the month of March. Oregano essential oil is powerful. According to Spiritual Scents, “The calming properties of oregano oil can relax the mind, balance the emotions, and banish mental fatigue.” Wealthful Mind tells us that the oil is “an herb of joy, safety and lightness of spirit.”

Now let’s take our flower of the month, the sweet pea. Sweet peas are popular ornamental plants grown in gardens and used in floral arrangements for their beauty and fragrance. Symbolically, sweet peas are associated with happiness, pleasure, gratitude, friendship, and delicate beauty – the opposite of what we feel when we are grieving. Pleasant feelings are helpful for any reluctancy.

If you find yourself in a dark place and need to see the light, consider the above blog, talk to someone about the use of oregano oil, and seek out growing some sweet peas this spring. Jess, our Hope Grows, horticulturist, could talk with you about the growing properties of sweet peas and I can chat with you about oregano essential oils.

Written by Lisa Story, MSCP, LPC, CT
Hope Grows Founder & Clinical Director

Disclaimer: This site offers information designed for educational purposes only. You should not rely on any information on this site as a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, treatment, or as a substitute for professional counseling care, advice, diagnosis, or treatment. If you have any concerns or questions about your health, you should always consult with a physician or other healthcare professional.