Meaning-Making

I’m almost 38 years old. Here’s what I’ve learned and experienced about life as I age.

The older I get, the more intensely I feel things. Sometimes I feel like my feelings are on steroids because of how deeply they are embedded into my very being. The happy moments- they are full of blistering joy. Thrilled that I am able to experience such goodness and novelty in the moment, and I know not to take it for granted. I hold the preciousness of the moment and the feeling it engenders in my hands. The sad moments? They bring me to my knees. They are portentous and weighty, and I feel every sharp edge of their tragic existence and how each cut intimately wounds me.

The only way I know how to live life in light of this intensity is through meaning-making. This isn’t a novel concept- most people who work in any type of social services field are familiar with this concept. Meaning-making is well-known; however, it has not risen to cliché heights because it’s one of the only mechanisms that can carry us through life’s darkest hours. For those of you who don’t know what meaning-making is, I want to start with a story to illustrate the concept, and then I’ll use more precise language to define it.

A couple of years ago, my heart was broken for the millionth time. I had been dating someone with whom I saw a future with at the time, and out of nowhere, he broke up with me. I was devastated, to say the least. Not only was this a loss in and of itself, but the fact that things seemed to be going well-only to have the rug pulled out from under me- completely shattered my world and myself.

I grieved, cried, and screamed, and eventually, I picked myself up again. We don’t really have a choice in these matters. I mean, we do- we could just lie down in our beds and die- but if we don’t want to do that, we somehow have to just put one foot in front of the other. I remember making a progress list those first couple of days. It was a big deal when I could make myself a meal again. It was a big deal when I had the energy to care if my house was clean. Those items are tasks that I customarily perform on a daily basis without any thought, but when you are in the throes of grief, it takes Herculean levels of energy to accomplish them. It almost makes me laugh. I’m one of the most energetic people I know- I work 5 jobs and have a ton of hobbies and friend groups and I’m hardly ever home- and yet when I’m grieving, the most basic tasks escape me.

I slowly put myself together again, step by step. When I was finally in a place where I could take care of basic life responsibilities, I knew I needed to do more. I had been seeing this man once a week, and without him, it left a huge hole in my social calendar, even with all my other friends and hobbies. I was at the gym one afternoon, and out of desperation, I asked a woman in one of my classes if she wanted to go kayaking that weekend. She happened to be free, and she said she knew another woman from the gym would probably want to go as well. So, we talked to her, and the three of us went to the lake together. These two women were named April and Rebecca.

We had so much fun that afternoon- Rebecca brought her own kayak, and April and I rented stand up paddle boards. We practiced handstands, tried to do a pyramid, and just had fun playing and dicking around in the water.

That trip- my courage to simply ask these two women that I sort of knew if they wanted to hang out- changed my life. April and I ended up buying our own watercrafts, and the three of us started slowly hanging out more together. We would eventually paddle down rivers…go to pumpkin patches…mushroom hunt…etc.  These two women have become two of my best friends, and we often hang out with some of our other mutual friends together (who I also love and find significant meaning from having in my life! Hugs to all of you!) We are actually planning on taking a couple of trips together in 2024, which is a big deal for me because my natural introvert self is pretty selective about who she shares her space with. We also have slowly started sharing more vulnerable things with each other; it’s not a relationship simply built on having adventures with one another.

If I had kept dating that man, I don’t know that I would have become such good friends with April and Rebecca. He had been a big part of my life, and I don’t know if I would have had the energy or time to invest in new friendships. And it’s really quite funny- I had actually known April and Rebecca for years at that point as nice acquaintances at our gym, but my life had always been “full” enough before this breakup that I hadn’t really asked them to hang out outside of our gym because I always had plenty of other engagements on my calendar. But that breakup- it left a hole that I knew I needed to fill.

This is what meaning-making is. It’s NOT saying “everything happens for a reason.” Rather, meaning-making occurs when you find some beauty in the midst of pain. You find a silver lining that exists in spite of the hardship you endured. I took something heartbreaking (the loss of someone), and I used my time to create new friendships. And I am so glad for this silver lining; I cannot imagine living without the joy of having these two women in my life now.

Do I wish things had been different? Yes, I do. I mean, let me be clear- I don’t wish that this man and I had ended up together (to be honest, I realize now that I dodged a damn bullet), but I DO wish that I would have already found a life partner by that point in time. I WISH I had already found a life partner by that life phase, I WISH that I could also be great friends with April and Rebecca, I WISH that I didn’t have to experience hurt and pain, I WISH…I wish I could have and do all that I have ever wanted.

I wish all that, but of course, that’s not how life works. We don’t get it all, and certainly, not all at once. But we do receive different gifts at various points in our lives. And for me, the summer of 2021, it was Rebecca and April.

I work as a full-time grief counselor. Sometimes, people ask me how I can do it. I’ve been in this position almost 10 years, and yet, I still have the ability to continue to hear people’s heartache and tragedy. I can do it because of meaning-making. I have heard the absolute most BEAUTIFUL stories over the years. A woman who became a published author after her spouse died. An elderly farmer who had the courage to travel abroad on a group trip without knowing anyone prior. Two sisters who reunited after the death of a parent. A man who started his own non-profit to help those who experienced a loss like his. The list goes on and on…and I almost think the list needs to be endless. Because if we don’t experience meaning-making on at least a subconscious level, I’m not sure any of us would have the strength or hope to continue on after experiencing devastating levels of loss.

However, one point I want to make clear is that meaning-making DOES not erase the original tragedy or trauma. Sometimes you can be glad it didn’t turn out the way you originally wanted (such as in my story with the man bullet I inadvertently dodged), but there are other times that it doesn’t replace or eliminate the initial hurt. All of the people that I talk to for a living would likely trade any of their silver linings for their loved one to be back on earth and healthy with them. We need to be careful that we aren’t indulging in toxic positivity and saying that meaning-making explains why certain events happen. Meaning-making does not justify trauma or tragedy; rather, meaning-making gives us hope because it reminds us there is always the possibility for new connections, love, stories, gifts, and adventure. There is hope in the fact that somehow, some way- the universe reminds us that there is goodness ALONGSIDE the heartache, and it is what helps carry us through.