Rethinking Life After Death

Life Continues

As the ghosts in Hades presented themselves to Odysseus, one in particular stood out from the rest. It was his mother, Anticlea. There, in the land of the dead, Odysseus finally realized that he had been absent from his family’s life for nearly fifteen years. The grief gripped him in a powerful way. He inquired of his mother the condition of his home in Ithaca and of his wife and son. He had a strong desire to know how his father was faring and the manner of his mother’s death. As his mother relayed the news from home, the Greek king fell into agony, understanding that to his family he was thought dead and that he had missed out on much of life.

When we stop to visit the graves of the loved ones that have passed on before us, it is difficult not to consider the living we have done since their passing. Births, graduations, marriages, and other major life events come and go, with the deceased individual apparently missing it all. This can provoke very powerful feelings of sorrow in those who are still here. It is no different for adolescents who lose someone special.

A student who loses a beloved grandmother, for instance, might have a difficult time around holidays, knowing that life’s customs and traditions are taking place without her presence. Another, experiencing the death of a close friend, may struggle with feelings of grief or guilt after winning an important basketball game. A teen whose mother has died could experience serious emotional pain during her senior prom, knowing that her mother would have loved to see the color and style of her prom dress. The dragon that stalks all these students, constantly struggling with the things they know their loved one is missing, is known as Despair.

How can we work with students who are grieving because they have come to the realization that their lives are continuing without the presence of someone they loved? What can make a difference in their lives?

One of the most crucial things we can do is to pay attention to the student who has lost someone special. Watch their behavior and interaction with other students, especially around times of the year and during events that may have been significant to the one that died. Does the student seem sad or cry easily? Is he unusually irritable or angry toward his friends? Do you notice that he is quiet, almost trying to disappear? These can all be clues as to the inner conflicts of the heart.

If you should happen to become aware of such changes in behavior or attitude, address it as soon as possible. Be a listening ear if students are comfortable discussing their struggles with you. Sometimes simply talking about the feelings one is experiencing can be very cathartic.

Art therapy works well in grieving situations, as well. Try having a student draw the things they wish the person who died could have experienced. Writing a letter to the deceased, describing what they have missed, can be very freeing to the young person who is grieving. Letters or artwork can be placed at the gravesite or similar memorial. Be creative. Try to empathize with the adolescent—put yourself in their shoes. The dragon of Despair would want a young heart to wrestle with these issues alone and in isolation. This beast can be slain by affording students an opportunity to share their pain with others, thus ultimately freeing the spirit to begin living again.

Odysseus, still in Hades, met his old ally Achilles, the mightiest of the Greek warriors. The hero, now a resident of the underworld, asked Odysseus for news of his family and whether or not his name was still remembered in the lands of Greece. Odysseus could not supply him with this information, but he was able to tell the ghost the tale of his son, Neoptolemus, and his heroic endeavors on the field of battle. Upon hearing this news, the great Achilles swelled with pride and went off along a meadow, now at peace.

Rethinking the Subtle Battle II

This is the point in the story where the villain of our hearts often fires back with lies and distortions that can make us wonder why we ever hoped for anything better in the first place. Like Telemachus, we too have felt the wounds of our hearts begin to throb. The enemy of the prince’s heart began to whisper, “You’ve heard this all before and paid dearly for it! Your father may have had courage, yes, but look where he is now, at the bottom of the sea. The suitors are too many and too strong for you! Don’t be a fool!”

As we’ve said before, at this moment of conflict, between hope and despair, the adolescent has a crucial choice to make. The easy way, of course, is to choose resignation and deny her place in the world. Many, many people have resigned themselves to less, because of the fear of what they are not. Unfortunately, they have bought into the lies and the pain of their past. Telemachus, however, made the more difficult choice. Even though his initial reaction revealed that he had believed lies about himself, he ultimately chose against despair. He decided to embrace his heritage and his role as prince and future king, by clinging to the hope that what strength and nobility belonged to his father was his as well. He voyaged back to Ithaca with a new sense of his heritage and identity.

Rethinking Adventure

The child who chooses hope will begin to feel the restlessness of a traveler prior to a great adventure. He will begin to understand that maybe the opinions of others are not the final word on who he truly is. We need to prepare students for the moments when they will face these choices. It is crucial that we begin to teach them to see their circumstances through the light of myth and story. We have the opportunity to make them aware of the battle between hope and despair.

In this epic war between these two forces, we must teach the young people around us how to choose hope. However, if they choose hope, they will be confronted with a problem. What are they hoping for? That they are more than what the world sees or that they themselves see. We place our hope in the idea that there is something greater planned for us, and that life’s trials, however terrible they might seem, are meant to reveal something in us that is beautiful, valiant, and worth sharing. We have a hope that our story has a Storyteller, and that there is a plan and a purpose for our being here.

Rethinking the Journey III

We have the opportunity to show students that life is a journey of mythical proportions. We need to let them know we understand that the hardships they face—even though they might seem trivial to us, with our longer experience—are very important and very real to them. We can show them how to view their challenges and trials as something greater, as smaller skirmishes in the cosmic battle between hope and despair. They long to know that they have an authentic and meaningful place in the story. The stories we loved as a child and that still touch us as adults hold the answers we seek.

Rethinking the Enemy III

Young people today have to decide whether or not they will agree with the voices that eventually lead to despair. If they start agreeing with statements like those, it won’t be long until they find themselves becoming more and more cynical and fatalistic about life in general.

Adolescents often verbalize those statements that they’ve agreed with, declaring that they are “unlucky” or “dumb.” It would be easy to dismiss those sentiments as nothing more than teen angst, but let’s look at what is really happening on a deeper level. For example, if Danielle is spurned by a boy that she really likes, she might be presented with the lie that she is “unlovable” or “unattractive.” If she, in her mind and heart, agrees with this assessment—however absurd—she will begin to behave as if she were unlovable or unattractive. This behavior in turn will invite others to treat her in the same way. In essence, we teach others how to treat us. When Danielle hears these messages from both herself and others around her, she may be tempted to evaluate other situations in her life through the same discouraging lens.

When Ted is cut from the basketball team, he might be exposed to the lie that he “will never amount to anything” or is “a failure.” Believing this lie, he might find himself fearful of trying new things, in an attempt to shield his heart from rejection.

Here we have two young people who have the potential to be great men or women, to live and love, perhaps affecting the lives of countless thousands or even millions. Instead, through the snare of agreeing with the villain in their stories, they find their hearts bound with the chains of cynicism, despair, depression, and fear. They lose, and the world loses. How does one overcome treacherous assaults such as these? No one wants to look at life with that kind of trepidation. So, how do we help young people avoid this pitfall?

Rethinking the Enemy II

When a discouraging situation occurs, there is always a choice to be made. Look at your own life. When something bad transpires, what happens next? A subtle voice speaking in your mind delivers a disparaging message—a fiery dart aimed right at your heart—suggesting:

• “That kind of thing always happens to me!”
• “I’m such an idiot!”
• “I just have bad luck.”
• “People will only like you if you look your best.”
• “Your friends are eventually going to leave you.”
• “I can never get it right.”
• “I am a bad person.”
• “Things will never change.”

For the purposes of this blog, we will refer to this “voice” as the villain in our story. We face an enemy in our lives, an enemy that is relentless and devious. You see, when we hear the voice of our adversary, in a split second, we have a decision to make. Notice how beguiling this is! Are you going to agree with the negative statement or not? We so often end up agreeing with these slanderous assaults against our character and our heart, though we are totally unaware that we are doing so.

When we end up depressed, fearful of certain situations, or cynical about life, we are left wondering how we got there. Just like any myth, fairy tale, or movie, the villain in our story is relentless, yet surprisingly subtle in its efforts to prevent us from realizing who we really are.