Bookpleasures.com ishonored to have as our guest today, Dr. Bob Rich, to discuss hislatest book, The Hole in Your Life, Grief and Bereavement.

We will explore itsinspiration, creative process, and what readers will carry with themlong after the final page.

Dr. Rich earned his PhD inpsychology in 1972. He has worn many hats—academic, researcher,applied scientist, builder’s laborer, nurse, Director of aprofessional association, editor.

He ran a CounselingPsychology practice for more than two decades.

He served on the nationalexecutive of the College of Counseling Psychologists of theAustralian Psychological Society and later as an APS Director,becoming the therapist to whom referrers sent their most challengingcases. 

Although he officiallyretired in 2013, he continues to offer pro bono counseling online,cultivating a global family of “children” and “grandchildren”who stay in touch for years—an expression of his deepest joy: beingof benefit to others, especially those facing profound loss.

Dr. Rich’s path as anenvironmental and humanitarian activist began while finishing histhesis and conducting futurology research as a young father in1972—work whose alarming predictions have largely come to pass. 

He describes his currentrole as that of a “Professional Grandfather,” striving to helpreplace a culture of greed and aggression with one of decency,generosity, and cooperation.

Norm: Good day Bob and thanksfor taking part in our interview.

Bob:  It is my pleasure andhonor to have you interview me for the second time. The first wasafter the publication of my 18th book, From Depression toContentment: A self-therapy guide.

Norm: Bob, could you takeus back to the exact moment you realized a ‘hole’ exists in humanlife that psychology textbooks never quite fill—and how Natalie’spassing turned that realization into an urgent calling?

Bob: When Hitler’sservants decided to move my family to the Budapest ghetto, we managedto qualify for an extra room by having my grandmother’s sister,Aunt Janka, be part of our family. 

After the war, she stayed with us.Being childless, she often told me I was “the child of her life andthe child of her heart,” so when she died in 1951, it was likehaving my heart amputated. This was my first experience of the holeof grief.

Norm: You finished thisbook while actively grieving. How did the writing process function aspart of your own healing, and what surprised you as you “fieldtested” your methods?

Bob: I had this book ongrieving about two-thirds completed, but then struck a difficulty andput it away in a dusty drawer within my computer. 

Fiction is more funto write than nonfiction (which is why I make nonfiction as packed ofstories as I can), so I was busy enough living in my createdrealities.

When Natalie was diagnosedwith cancer, I was full of hope that she would achieve a “spontaneousremission,” like several other people I know, but also dealt withanticipatory grief. 

One of my major recommendations is that whenfacing any overwhelming worry, including grief, you schedule a settime for it, and then live the rest of your life as if it was normal.I did that, and typically spent that time writing a journal. 

Here isone very brief entry: I am editing this book forMichael Amos. One of the stories is by Peter, who when he wants something, asks his Higher Self. So, I went into a place of meditation,and asked, “Speak to me about Natalie.”

Got that pins and needlesfeeling in my body, then a deep sadness. A loving compassion. Icried.

I didn’t restart thebook until after her death, and it flowed. I finished it in weeks.The original was built around the story of a real couple with onlythe names changed. Both were suicidal, and both bitterly blamed eachother for the horrific death of their toddler son. 

They saw meindividually for nine sessions each, then three sessions together,and tracing their progress is the skeleton of the book.

During the revision, Iperformed an anatomical miracle and gave the book two skeletons: thisone, and my way of coping with my personal loss.

And Norm, you are right.Doing so was part of my healing.

Norm: You outline “TheTwo Parts of Grieving: Loss and Compassion for the Departed.” Canyou unpack this model and share how a reader can cultivate compassionfor the departed without bypassing pain?

Bob: We have covered loss.It’s the hole. Any loss leaves one. Say your employer goesbankrupt, so you don’t have a job anymore. Or like the young womanwho sent me an email about the condoms she’d found in her husband’spocket and “we don’t use them.” 

Even if the couple reconcile,the loss of trust sure leaves a big hole.

But the part of my bookdiscussing compassion for the departed demonstrates that it’s notneeded. There is surprisingly sound scientific evidence for thefollowing (p 42):

• If a case before acourt of law depended on the evidence for life after death, thejudge would rule to accept it.

• A Guide meets youwith complete, nonjudgmental, unconditional love.

• You are led tore-experience the significant events of your life, so you can buildon your strengths, choose restitution to pay for your mistakes, andchoose the lessons you want to learn in the next life.

• Suicide, however,means that you need to return to a situation in which you need toface the very challenges that drove you to despair, so you have achance to do better.

Norm: Grief for a child isoften described as uniquely devastating. What pitfalls did you noticein your own journey, and how did rituals like Natalie’s “PurpleParty” help?

Bob: It is. That’s oneof my reasons for disliking the dairy industry. Poor cow is forced tohave a baby a year, without even fun, since they use artificialinsemination. 

Then the baby is converted into veal, and right back tothe dinosaurs and before, our ancestors and cousins (like cows) feelgrief.

But I didn’t experienceany pitfalls. I experienced 19 months of hope crashing toward despairtoward acceptance. I did this at scheduled times, lived mindfully andpracticed equanimity (what is, is).

Top level equanimity is,“There is an uncomfortable sensation in my toe (or in my heart).It’s OK for it to be there.” I am not hurting. This is where I amnow during inevitable episodes of sadness.

When I can’t manage it,I am hurting. This is a legitimate pain, so I accept it. I am OKhurting. This was my situation while writing up my daily anticipatorygrief journal.

When I am unable to acceptthe pain and life isn’t worth living, then I simply accept that,for now, that’s where I am. Accepting it allows me to keep going. Ihave never been actively suicidal, but many of my clients havebenefited from thinking this way.

As for ritual, it has beenvery beneficial for all the many people who love Natalie, and Ijoined in, but personally I don’t need it.

I have written a Complete Guest Post elsewhere about the purple party.

Norm: What are your bestguidelines for supporting grieving kids at different ages—what tosay, what not to say, and how adults can model healthy mourning?

Bob: Norm, you are truly awise person, but let’s keep it a secret. The best way to teach kidsanything is “Do as I do.” They will, whether what you say agreeswith it or not.

Little children haveliteral minds. They hear what you say, not what you intend. Reading asuitable picture book with them is a great way, and I haverecommended a couple.

The main requirement forall ages is unconditional love while declining to accept badbehavior. For older kids, it is very effective to ask for their help.Being trusted, being allowed responsibility, is likely to lift themout of their grief by giving them something else to focus on. 

Sharingscheduled grieving times as a family is a great way to make thefamily a mutually loving team.

And have fun together.

Norm: How does your“Mindfulness-Based Grief Relief” differ from standard mindfulnessapproaches, and what micro-practices work for someone who can’t sitstill with their anguish?

Bob: It is simply JonKabat-Zinn’s Mindfulness-Based Stress Relief applied to a specificpain. I wish the phone would ring with Natalie at the other end. 

Itis OK to have that wish. It is entirely natural and reasonable. Iaccept that I miss her, for now.

I have a dear friend inBritain. We have never met, but she has read everything I’vewritten and is a great support in whatever project I take on. The onething she has rejected is mindfulness meditation. “It bores me.”

The thing is, boredomimplies the passage of time, but time is an illusion. There ain’tno such thing. Look at a river. Look away then look back. It seemsthe same, but you’re looking at a different piece of water.

This instant, I amfocusing on a candle flame. I notice myself fidgeting. I accept thewriggle, then calmly return my focus to the candle flame. A thoughtintrudes: “This is boring!” I accept the thought, then calmlyreturn my focus to the candle flame. An emotion intrudes: “

I justwant to die and join him.” I accept the emotion, then calmly returnmy focus to the candle flame.

Norm: One chapter tackles‘Stuck in Grief.’ Could you share one client case where the shiftfrom stuck-ness to stretching after loss became visible in realtime—almost like watching time-lapse healing?

Bob: I describe fivereasons one may be stuck in grief. Several can act at the one time.

OK, I’ll tell you abouta person I didn’t discuss in my book. This was a lady in awheelchair because her back was fractured in a car smash twenty yearsbefore. Her husband died in the crash. 

She was referred to me forcomplex PTSD: nightmares of the event, terror at the very thought ofgetting into a car (imagine how limiting that is!), TV watchingpractically all her waking hours to interfere with thought andmemory.

During our first session at the nursing home where shereceived 24-hour care, I found out that she suffered more distress atthe loss of her husband than at her own tragedy.

The way to deal with sucha situation is to take the poison out of the memories. This is called“exposure therapy” because you create a safe place, thendeliberately re-experience the trauma over and over. 

The emotionalresponse is horrendous at first, but after sufficient repetitions iteases, and eventually it’s like a story about someone else.

I know, because I havedone it for myself.

Exposure therapies have abad reputation because many people start it, then feel unable to keepgoing. Then it can actually worsen the trauma.

I used something calledTraumatic Incident Reduction with this lady. Shewent over the car smash 21 times. At first, she couldn’t face thethought of it, so I asked her to imagine seeing it on TV. 

When thatreduced distress to 3/10, she watched it in imagination as abystander. Then, the final several sessions were being herself, inthe car.

And yes. This didn’t fixher broken back of course, but it did fix her broken heart.

Norm: The phrase ‘everycloud has a silver lining’ can sound cliché to the bereaved. Howdo you honestly test whether a silver lining is authentic growth ormere coping fantasy with your clients?

Bob: I would never saythat to someone in current despair. By what is called Socraticquestioning, I do my best to get my client to come to thatrealization.

Well down the track, Ioften ask... used to ask before retirement, “In what way are younow a better person because of this tragedy?”

Often, people engage innew activities, and new attitudes such as compassion. It is then thatthey often identify this as a silver lining.

Norm; In “I Hated Himbut Now I Miss Him,” you address mixed feelings after complicatedrelationships. How can readers process ambivalence, regret, or evenrelief without guilt?

Bob: That chapter isabout the death or departure (e.g., to jail) of an abuser. Guilt isan unlikely reaction, unless perhaps if the victim murdered thebully. 

I haven’t encountered such a case but would approach it thesame way as guilt for anything else: work toward self-forgiveness.

I have the positivepsychology habit of attaching cards to my emails. Here is therelevant one:

Norm: You call the body a‘spacesuit for surviving on this planet.’ Can you recall one daywhen your own body’s signals—tight throat, shaking hands—becameGPS for the next right step in grief?

Bob: Sorry, no. Thatconcept is a source of comfort and healing for me. The Person who wasmy daughter for 56 years is no longer in that spaceship but is in abetter place. 

She is processing her just-completed life, extractingwhat she has learned, and setting up the next lessons she willrequest in the next life.

Norm: You blend personalstories and case studies. How do you navigate confidentiality andethics in storytelling, and what do you hope readers—and thefriends supporting them—will actually do differently after readingyour book?

Bob: No way known can youidentify any real person from my books. In a few cases I have onlychanged the names, but mostly I mixed several case notes togetherinto a story.

What I hope people willremember?

• Unconditional love isthe strongest force in the universe.

• If you have a gooddose of the “seven magic bullets” in your life, you can copewith anything. http://bobswriting.com/psych/firstaid.com

• You can create amobile haven by living mindfully.

• When you have anall-consuming worry, schedule it for a specific time.

• We surviveeverything, even death.

Norm: You now counselhundreds of ‘digital grandchildren.’ What surprised you mostabout how cyber-grief (loss without physical contact) follows orbreaks the patterns in your book?

Bob: It’s notnecessarily grief. It tends to be one of several things:

• Feelings ofaggression that horrify the person. (If it doesn’t horrify them,they don’t reach out for help but do it.)

• Guilt for a past act,often sexual abuse of a younger child.

• Relationship issues.

Norm: Where can ourreaders find out more about you and The Hole in Your Life, Griefand Bereavement?

Bob: They can check out myblog, Bobbing Around 

If theysubscribe, they have earned a free electronic book. Sending me proofof purchase of any of my books also earns a free book. 

A reviewqualifies as proof of purchase, provided the book wasn’t free fromme.

I have a contacts formthey can use to send me a private message.

Norm: As we wind up ourinterview, in one sentence, give us the single prompt you giveclients to draft a ‘legacy letter’ to the person theylost—something that converts raw sorrow into future-orientedaction.

Bob: What a good idea!I’ve never done that. It’s a good day when you learn somethingnew. Thank you for being my teacher.

I doubt I would say thesame thing to everyone, but tune into the person and say what comesto mind intuitively. This might be, “He still loves you,” or “Youstill have a good life to live until you join her,” or “Thank youfor the joy of having been of benefit to you.”

Norm: Thanks once again and good luck with all of your future endeavors