Daryl Wood's Blog

Compassion fatigue is real. I remember hearing about this years ago and understood that I was feeling that way after many consecutive retreats hearing and holding space for those revealing their pain. I don’t remember how I dealt with it but since a new group of women showed up each time I was not in long term relationships with most of my participants.

And when I consider traumas in the lives of my family and friends I know I learned how to set boundaries and for the most part take care of myself. I think I managed fairly well which is why I am so aware of what is happening to my inner circle, the people I’ve been relying on to hear my grief out loud for many weeks. And in the small community I live in where just about everyone has cried or hugged with me in the past many weeks. Having experienced my own version of compassion fatigue I am not surprised at some of the responses even if these people don’t recognize what they are doing.

Some have distanced themselves and don’t check in as often as they did. Some keep the conversations short. Some are making frequent recommendations about what I ‘should’ or ‘could’ be doing. Some want to talk about politics, the weather, their annoying neighbour or just about anything other than how I’m doing. Some have a ‘tightness’ in their voice that signals (are we still talking about this?) And some have disappeared.

I get it. It’s hard to ‘be’ with deep, woeful grief. I can barely handle it myself. These changes feel like the collateral losses that accompany grief. Since most of us are unprepared and/or unskilled at how to be with grief it’s no wonder that their compassion for me is waning. And it’s no wonder I feel the loss over again.

There is no room for judgement from me even if in my moments of despair I feel resentful. I’ve learned that the best antidote is to remember the people who have stepped up and stepped in. And there are a lot of them. From out of the country phone calls to meals delivered to the stack of cards with personalized, heartfelt messages I am being supported. And those that can do more, do more. Those that can’t, I am believing, are still holding me in their hearts even if a canyon of space now exists between us.

My hope is that they are taking care of themselves