Exercise for the soul
At my first support group meeting the facilitator suggested I try at least three meetings before deciding if a support group was for me. They work for some and not for others and that I might actually feel worse after the first meeting, but give it three meetings before I decide. The part about feeling worse sounded odd, but I allowed the three meeting advice into me because I assumed he knew more about this process than I did. He could actually put a few sentences together that made sense. I was still having trouble with that.
At the first meeting not too much was making sense and I didn’t know what was going to work. All I knew was that I needed something to help my pain. "Okay,” I thought, “let’s get through the next minute and then the next one after that and this meeting will end and if somehow I make it to the day before the second meeting I’ll decide what to do at that point.”
The day before the second meeting came and I remembered that yes, I had felt worse at the end of that first meeting. I’d felt beaten up and beaten down, but I trusted the facilitator and I went to the second meeting. That meeting was a little better and the third was even better and by that time I was hooked. I was a support group junkie. I found it worked for me in many large and small ways. I felt comfortable in the group setting knowing I could express myself in any way I wanted, knowing I would not be judged or “shoulded” on. Express myself I did. Those first few meetings are a bit hazy, but I remember anger, tears, yelling and pounding the table. I was a scary guy, but every time I let out my pain, I let healing in. Now many years down the road I’m grateful for the “three meeting” advice.
Through the years I’ve tried to think of an analogy that would help describe how important it is to keep coming back to those meetings. When you’re at your first meeting and someone’s asking you to come to the third meeting, it really doesn’t make sense. It feels too far away. Here’s the analogy I’ve come up with. Joining a support group is like starting an exercise program after many years on the couch. Make sense? Stay with me. Just like going to that first meeting is hard, it’s also hard to start exercising again. The first workout consists of figuring out what to do and where to start. The weights are dusty, the treadmill is covered with clothes and who the heck knows where the exercise mat is located.
That first meeting may also be hard to start. You’ll awkwardly introduce yourself and hear strange things like, “I’m glad you’re here,” which kind of upsets you because you don’t really know what that means. Your clothes will feel heavy, your body will feel awkward, not to mention you’ve got to figure out a place to sit, who to sit next to and what to say. “Lost” is where you are, but as you look around the room and see parents smiling, laughing and hugging, a little teeny tiny bit of “found" might creep into you. You won’t recognize it and it will take a few more meetings before you realize what that
means, but it can find its way into you and gently wait for you to find its meaning.
Now back to the exercise analogy. You start your exercise program by doing as little as possible because you don’t really want to be doing anything, but deep down you know it’s important to your health, so you push on. You may do two sets of five push ups, ten crunches, hit the treadmill for five minutes and call it quits. That first session will be over and you won’t feel very good. Your body will be yelling at you and the couch will be calling you. Just like your first workout, at your first support group meeting you might not want to do much either. You may do as little as possible and then find your soul is yelling at you and your pain is calling you. Pain you didn’t know you had may have come to the surface and it scared you which made you think, “Why should I come back if I feel worse than when I came in?”
The morning after your first workout you throw your legs over the side of the bed and every single muscle in your body is screaming at you. “Oh my gosh,” you think, “what did I do to myself? Why should I do that again?” You may feel the same way the day after your first support group meeting. When you wake up the next morning, tears may run down your cheeks when you think about what happened and you may think, “Oh my gosh, what did I do to myself? Why should I do that again?”
You manage to gently but gingerly get back into your workout clothes and head to the basement for another try. After stretching out and again convincing yourself it’s a good thing, you get started. Much to your surprise you’re able to add one push up, one crunch, but decide to stay the same distance on the treadmill because,“Hey, let’s not get nuts here.” What you find is that you saw progress, you moved forward, got a little stronger and
you feel a little better about yourself. “Hey, maybe I should keep coming back,” you say.
When the day before the second support group meeting comes you have to decide what to do. Go, not go; go, not go; go, not go? In the
back of your mind you keep hearing the facilitator asking you to try three meetings, but you’re scared. Just like you know that exercising is good for you,
you kind of think going to another meeting will be good for you, so you decide to give the support group another try. When you walk in, the surroundings feel a little more familiar, you get hugs from the same people (and maybe new ones) that you got them from last month and the statement, “I’m glad you’re here,” makes a little more sense. You may open up just a little bit more, share a little more of your pain and feel just a little bit better at the end of the
meeting. Your second workout comes to mind and you realize that here too you saw progress, you moved forward, got a little stronger and you feel a little better about yourself. But, it still wasn’t all that great. It still hurt. You’re still sore.
Now onto your third workout and even though you’re no tri-athlete, you feel a little less sore, a little stronger and a little more motivated. You may add nothing to your push-ups, crunches and treadmill, but you showed up and got involved; a victory. Things are moving along in little steps, but they’re moving along. Your body is less angry and motivation becomes a word that’s starting to make sense. The day before the third support group meeting
arrives and even though you’re still hesitant because your soul still hurts, the facilitator’s advice is now stronger and making more sense. In you go.
This time you initiate the greetings and hugs, which kind of surprises you. You find yourself gravitating to certain people and feel comfortable
talking with them. You never had that feeling before and are very grateful for their presence. They’re probably thinking the same thing about you. The circle of mutual support is beginning to surround you. On the way home from your third meeting you know what the facilitator meant by asking for three meetings and you silently thank him.
Over the next several months of exercising you get very strong and very healthy. Your attitude is better; your body feels wonderful; no part of it is yelling at you anymore. Instead it’s thanking you. You’re now highly motivated and look forward to working out. It can be the same for your healing. By this time you’ve attended eight or nine meetings and can’t wait to get to the next one. Even though you don’t feel wonderful by any means, you feel better, you continue to move forward and get stronger. Deep down in your soul you think you heard a laugh. It’s a distant echo, but you’re sure it’s what you heard. Just like you’ve been exercising your body, you’ve been exercising your soul by attending a support group.
The point of this story is that if you exercise your soul by continuously sharing your story and reaching out for help, you can get stronger, you can get
happier and your life can get better. However you exercise your soul is up to you. There are many ways to do it. The important thing is to do it consistently
and with as much enthusiasm as you can muster. By working at your grieving and healing, good things can happen. You can one day smile and find meaning in your life again and those are very good things.
At my first support group meeting the facilitator suggested I try at least three meetings before deciding if a support group was for me. They work for some and not for others and that I might actually feel worse after the first meeting, but give it three meetings before I decide. The part about feeling worse sounded odd, but I allowed the three meeting advice into me because I assumed he knew more about this process than I did. He could actually put a few sentences together that made sense. I was still having trouble with that.
At the first meeting not too much was making sense and I didn’t know what was going to work. All I knew was that I needed something to help my pain. "Okay,” I thought, “let’s get through the next minute and then the next one after that and this meeting will end and if somehow I make it to the day before the second meeting I’ll decide what to do at that point.”
The day before the second meeting came and I remembered that yes, I had felt worse at the end of that first meeting. I’d felt beaten up and beaten down, but I trusted the facilitator and I went to the second meeting. That meeting was a little better and the third was even better and by that time I was hooked. I was a support group junkie. I found it worked for me in many large and small ways. I felt comfortable in the group setting knowing I could express myself in any way I wanted, knowing I would not be judged or “shoulded” on. Express myself I did. Those first few meetings are a bit hazy, but I remember anger, tears, yelling and pounding the table. I was a scary guy, but every time I let out my pain, I let healing in. Now many years down the road I’m grateful for the “three meeting” advice.
Through the years I’ve tried to think of an analogy that would help describe how important it is to keep coming back to those meetings. When you’re at your first meeting and someone’s asking you to come to the third meeting, it really doesn’t make sense. It feels too far away. Here’s the analogy I’ve come up with. Joining a support group is like starting an exercise program after many years on the couch. Make sense? Stay with me. Just like going to that first meeting is hard, it’s also hard to start exercising again. The first workout consists of figuring out what to do and where to start. The weights are dusty, the treadmill is covered with clothes and who the heck knows where the exercise mat is located.
That first meeting may also be hard to start. You’ll awkwardly introduce yourself and hear strange things like, “I’m glad you’re here,” which kind of upsets you because you don’t really know what that means. Your clothes will feel heavy, your body will feel awkward, not to mention you’ve got to figure out a place to sit, who to sit next to and what to say. “Lost” is where you are, but as you look around the room and see parents smiling, laughing and hugging, a little teeny tiny bit of “found" might creep into you. You won’t recognize it and it will take a few more meetings before you realize what that
means, but it can find its way into you and gently wait for you to find its meaning.
Now back to the exercise analogy. You start your exercise program by doing as little as possible because you don’t really want to be doing anything, but deep down you know it’s important to your health, so you push on. You may do two sets of five push ups, ten crunches, hit the treadmill for five minutes and call it quits. That first session will be over and you won’t feel very good. Your body will be yelling at you and the couch will be calling you. Just like your first workout, at your first support group meeting you might not want to do much either. You may do as little as possible and then find your soul is yelling at you and your pain is calling you. Pain you didn’t know you had may have come to the surface and it scared you which made you think, “Why should I come back if I feel worse than when I came in?”
The morning after your first workout you throw your legs over the side of the bed and every single muscle in your body is screaming at you. “Oh my gosh,” you think, “what did I do to myself? Why should I do that again?” You may feel the same way the day after your first support group meeting. When you wake up the next morning, tears may run down your cheeks when you think about what happened and you may think, “Oh my gosh, what did I do to myself? Why should I do that again?”
You manage to gently but gingerly get back into your workout clothes and head to the basement for another try. After stretching out and again convincing yourself it’s a good thing, you get started. Much to your surprise you’re able to add one push up, one crunch, but decide to stay the same distance on the treadmill because,“Hey, let’s not get nuts here.” What you find is that you saw progress, you moved forward, got a little stronger and
you feel a little better about yourself. “Hey, maybe I should keep coming back,” you say.
When the day before the second support group meeting comes you have to decide what to do. Go, not go; go, not go; go, not go? In the
back of your mind you keep hearing the facilitator asking you to try three meetings, but you’re scared. Just like you know that exercising is good for you,
you kind of think going to another meeting will be good for you, so you decide to give the support group another try. When you walk in, the surroundings feel a little more familiar, you get hugs from the same people (and maybe new ones) that you got them from last month and the statement, “I’m glad you’re here,” makes a little more sense. You may open up just a little bit more, share a little more of your pain and feel just a little bit better at the end of the
meeting. Your second workout comes to mind and you realize that here too you saw progress, you moved forward, got a little stronger and you feel a little better about yourself. But, it still wasn’t all that great. It still hurt. You’re still sore.
Now onto your third workout and even though you’re no tri-athlete, you feel a little less sore, a little stronger and a little more motivated. You may add nothing to your push-ups, crunches and treadmill, but you showed up and got involved; a victory. Things are moving along in little steps, but they’re moving along. Your body is less angry and motivation becomes a word that’s starting to make sense. The day before the third support group meeting
arrives and even though you’re still hesitant because your soul still hurts, the facilitator’s advice is now stronger and making more sense. In you go.
This time you initiate the greetings and hugs, which kind of surprises you. You find yourself gravitating to certain people and feel comfortable
talking with them. You never had that feeling before and are very grateful for their presence. They’re probably thinking the same thing about you. The circle of mutual support is beginning to surround you. On the way home from your third meeting you know what the facilitator meant by asking for three meetings and you silently thank him.
Over the next several months of exercising you get very strong and very healthy. Your attitude is better; your body feels wonderful; no part of it is yelling at you anymore. Instead it’s thanking you. You’re now highly motivated and look forward to working out. It can be the same for your healing. By this time you’ve attended eight or nine meetings and can’t wait to get to the next one. Even though you don’t feel wonderful by any means, you feel better, you continue to move forward and get stronger. Deep down in your soul you think you heard a laugh. It’s a distant echo, but you’re sure it’s what you heard. Just like you’ve been exercising your body, you’ve been exercising your soul by attending a support group.
The point of this story is that if you exercise your soul by continuously sharing your story and reaching out for help, you can get stronger, you can get
happier and your life can get better. However you exercise your soul is up to you. There are many ways to do it. The important thing is to do it consistently
and with as much enthusiasm as you can muster. By working at your grieving and healing, good things can happen. You can one day smile and find meaning in your life again and those are very good things.