One of the great privileges in my life is leading a weekly bereavement support group. Over many years, I have seen courage win over despair again and again. I have learned lessons about life from those who have lost dear ones and shared their journey through their sadness.

There are so many challenges that hit us point blank when a spouse, parent, child or beloved friend dies. It is as though we were struck head on by a Mack truck but we do not end up in the hospital. We are not on crutches or life support and we do not have bruises, but we are in enormous pain that is often very physical. The three areas of impact on us are mental, emotional and physical.

Mental: cloudy thinking, losing our way in familiar areas, forgetting, absentminded, feeling unreal, disorganized, hard to concentrate, losing life's meaning or purpose, wild thoughts and preoccupations.

Emotional: shock, panic, anger, guilt, fear, loss of control, crying at any moment, unable to cry, have to get out of the house, can't leave the house, loneliness, depression.

Physical: changes in sleep patterns, knot in the stomach, aching, nausea, insomnia, no appetite, eat constantly, fatigue, tight muscles, dizziness, weakness, tremors, weakened immune system.

Whew, with all that, how in the world do we cope? In the group, I aim to model being present to whatever is expressed at any moment. Participants see that they will survive if they feel. They will come through feeling what they cannot imagine feeling. They will not die of their emotions. A support group really, really helps. People discover with great relief they are not crazy (a common fear) because they cannot do the simplest tasks like cook a meal or walk the dog. They discover that there are others going through their own version of healing, often quite different from their own. People listen without interrupting or helping or sympathizing. They just listen and allow each other to be exactly where they are, even in quite dark places.

I have been inspired to see again and again that human beings are absolutely incredible. I keep learning that. We have resilience and courage to face the most trying experiences of our lives and come through to the other side. It is possible to reinvent one's life without that dear person. They are new and different lives, to be sure, but often ones that are filled with more appreciation and compassion and intentionality and alertness than were available (or possible?) before the crisis.

We are mostly asleep to the gifts and beauty in our lives. That doesn't mean we are having bad or unethical lives; they often just lack a certain aliveness. One thing about the bereaved - they are alive. They are awake. Even when they are numb. Life "as usual" has been majorly interrupted and there are new choices available. There are choices to be made about the purpose of life, the talents we have not used, the learning we may want to do, the growth we have missed.

Life just goes on day by day, unless we bring a strong intention to interrupt the patterns and wake up and smell (no, not the roses) the skin of another human being. And our own skin.