September is National Suicide Prevention Month and this week's newsletter has some guidance on language, helpful podcasts, and some of my favorite thought-leaders on the topic of suicide and the workplace.

Grief is love expressing itself over time...and anniversaries can feel particularly poignant. 

There is goodness in rest.  Consider this week's newsletter an invitation - if your life demands and mental load resemble that woefully overloaded trailer, take a moment to consider - what can I unload?

These are the moments you train for - you can't, ultimately, prevent the chaos. But you can hope/train/equip your employees to respond with care when it matters most.
Disruptive life events are opportunities to create unforgettable moments of connection and care.  

As it all reaches a boiling point, take a moment to pause – who are the people or groups that you feel like it is OK to “other” – who are the people that you harbor a quiet (or not so quiet) schadenfreude towards?
This question (and its answer) has roots in the moral universe.  So, as you ponder it, the answer will probably bring you back to your foundational moral beliefs. 

In his final days, Tozer taught me to interrogate the stories I make up in my mind, to practice greater curiosity, to lean in (when the behavior seems odd/out of character) and ask, "what else *might* be going on here?"

"We create suffering for ourselves.  Instead of looking at your loved one, your child, and focusing on all of the things that are wrong with them, what if you looked at the things you are grateful for?" 

Take a moment to reflect – what is a message from your childhood that shaped who you are now?
Do you have it in mind, the way it made you feel at the time?
Now ask, is this message still serving/helping me?  What else could be true?

What doesn't kill you...almost did!
How to stop promising positive outcomes and become really helpful

Loss and disruption don't fit into tidy categories.  How can you structure your policies to make space for the messy, unexpected nature of loss? 

When people are living through disruptive life events, there are all kinds of ways to deal with the stress and strain.
One person might welcome gestures of support as they take their child for leukemia treatments while another might value anonymity as they muddle through a messy divorce.

Recent research from CEB Global showed that 60% of managers fail in their first two years.  
Over the course of our next few newsletters, I'm going to be sharing tips for leaders/managers to help support your people when they need it most.

Work is busy, plagued by the tyranny of the immediate, and it is easy for our best intentions to get lost.  One of the things that I love about this story is that the leader of the firm took time to offer a meaningful gesture of care.

Undoubtedly, you also have people at work, in your neighborhood, in your family, who will scrape against Mother’s Day. Who can you reach out to this week?  It doesn’t have to be fancy or perfect. 

This is not sustainable.  We (and every created thing) function best in rhythms of rest and productivity.  We deprive ourselves of true rest by never truly disconnecting from work.

We should stop asking about people’s reproductive roadmap, especially in work-place settings. 
Don’t ask when someone is going to start a family, when they are going to have more children, or even when they are going to become a grandparent (i.e. when are your kids going to start having kids?).

You simply do not know what journey the individual is on…and you could put them in an awkward situation. 
And if they do invite you into that space of conversation, proceed with great awareness and care.   

Where can you (and I) embrace the slow-and-patient today?

Remember, empathy begins at home.  Consider the golden rule:  love your neighbor as you love yourself.  If you are not growing in empathy and care for the disruptive, orphaned parts of your own story, it will be difficult to (sustainably) show up with care and support for those you care about at work and in life.

Let me invite you to stop comparing and compartmentalizing your churning emotional world.  Comparative grief is a dead-end street. The worst grief is always the YOUR grief.