I read with sadness the news of the sudden passing of David Goldberg, the CEO of SurveyMonkey and the husband of Sheryl Sandberg. The news tugged at my heart, stirring the memory of the death of my son Cameron, who passed away at the tender age of 25 from stomach cancer.
Sheryl spoke for all of us who’ve lost a loved one when she said, “Today we will put the love of my life to rest, but only his body ... his spirit and soul are still with us.” Cameron’s spirit lives on and inspires me and the people at our company, Fishbowl, each and every day.
This week, in a rare and personal moment, Tiger Woods commented on the difficulty of playing competitive golf near the anniversary of his father’s death, saying it’s “just brutal on me.” Like Sheryl Sandberg’s words, Tiger’s honesty hit home for me, reminding me of my own challenges in regaining my work rhythm after Cameron’s passing and the feelings I experience on the anniversary of his death. Returning to work after the death of a loved one is difficult, and it’s a challenge that’s renewed year after year.
Last year I had the opportunity to talk with Jason Garner, the former CEO of Global Music at Live Nation, the world’s largest concert promoter. Like me, Jason lost a loved one to stomach cancer — his mother, Sue. And like me, Jason had to find a way to balance the demands of a high-pressure job while caring, and later grieving, for his mother. He told me of the experience of holding his mother’s head as she took her last breath and the struggles of returning to work after she passed. Jason shared, “I just wasn’t the same after that. I saw life through a different lens.” That new lens led him to travel to faraway temples, to study with masters of body, mind and spirit, and to write an intimate and honest book sharing his experiences and how he learned to finally be at peace: …And I Breathed, My Journey from a Life of Matter to a Life That Matters.
I reached out to Jason again this week to discuss our common experiences and tools that entrepreneurs can use in honoring their loved ones, returning to the workplace, and coping with the overwhelming and complicated feelings that come with loss.
“Death is such an intimate experience,” Jason says. “I think for busy entrepreneurs it’s especially personal because it invites us — forces us — to look in the mirror, to examine our crowded lives, and to question the meaning of it all.”
Jason’s experience with death resulted in an overhaul of his hectic lifestyle — leaving his corporate job to learn and share with others. That path is uniquely his, not one he necessarily advocates for everyone. “I don’t think we have to run away to a temple or an ashram and meditate all day,” he says with the self-deprecating laugh of a man who’s been there. “Death really is an invitation to open our hearts, to experience the feelings of pain and grief, and then to honor our loved ones by going back into the world with an open heart to do our work with an increased awareness and compassion for our needs and the needs of others.”
I remember my own experiences in figuring out work and caring for my son prior to his death. For six months I worked from home, taking phone calls and reviewing financials in between hugs and back rubs for Cameron.
“The grieving process is necessary and can’t be abbreviated,” Jason says. “Like birth, nature has its own timeline and we have to respect it.” Experts say grieving is often a many-year process. “Most of us don’t have the luxury of waiting years to return to work. So we’re forced to jump back into life well before we’re emotionally ready. Our culture tells us to “be strong,” to “not cry,” and to “just do it.” But that’s not really helpful. Instead, I’ve found that being real, honoring our experience, and sharing with those around is much more valuable.”
Jason shared five tools to help executives cope with work under the strain of their grief:
- Be Real. Dealing with death is devastatingly hard. When we lose someone we love it wounds us and brings up emotions that most of us are unfamiliar with. Allow yourself the space to experience this, to let your feelings take their course, to really cry, and to let it all out. Pretending everything is okay when it’s not does not honor your experience… or the memory of your loved one.
- Breathe. When we’re grieving we’re afraid to breathe for fear that all the emotions we have locked inside will come spilling out. The breath is a powerful message to the body that we’re safe, loved, and that everything is okay. Give yourself breathing room by creating regular breaks to get up from your desk, stretch, walk around, and just breathe.
- Connect. You are not alone. Coworkers, bosses, friends, and family — even the person sitting across from you in a meeting — all around you are people who’ve experienced the same pain you’re going through. Allow yourself to experience this community by being honest and sharing your experience. After writing my book and sharing my experience, I was surprised to discover the community that exists — it’s just a matter of allowing ourselves to be supported as we grieve.
- Nurture. Your feelings matter, too. So often the time prior to the passing of a loved one is spent caring for them. After a death, we’re expected to rush back to work or to our busy lives. This often leaves us feeling abandoned and uncared for. Take time to nurture yourself — practice yoga, meditate, sleep as much as you can, and fill your body with nutrient-dense foods that tell it that you care. I find it helpful to remember that our loved ones would want us to be healthy, cared for, and loved as we remember them.
- Be Patient. The grieving process is a slow one, filled with ups and downs and many phases. Be tender and gentle with yourself. Give yourself permission to heal slowly. It’s been six years, and the anniversary of my mom’s death still brings up tears and sensitive emotions. Use the emotions as an invitation to sit quietly, with hands on your heart, and connect with the memory of your loved one. In this way they never really leave… and are always just a breath away.
“I have heard songs in my life that have stirred my soul and vividly brought back experiences and emotions of another time and place. I have heard melodies that have filled me with memories of great joy and terrible heartache. But the most profoundly moving song I have ever experienced had no notes and no melody. It was, however, a song of hope — an anthem of belief — and it resounds today from the deepest part of my soul. It is a song of just five words — “Good will come from this,” writes Chris Hall in her book, The Song of My Father.
Chris and Jason remind us that good can come from all our experiences and that we can remember to be good to one another. We never really know what a person is experiencing.
Our loved ones never really leave us. As I write this article, I’m inspired by my son Cameron, by Jason’s mother, by David Goldberg and Earl Woods … and by the memory of all the amazing human beings who have inspired us through their lives and touched our hearts by their passing. I think that by sharing these experiences, by joining in community to help each other, and by applying tools like the ones above to carry on with our lives, we truly honor the memory of those we’ve loved.
Additional reporting for this article provided by Mary Michelle Scott, PhD, Fishbowl President. For additional resources: www.fishbowlworkforce.com
