"We strongly believe that the Camp Erin experience is life-changing. Family members and caregivers experiencing their own grief, while simultaneously helping their child to grieve, are often overwhelmed and feel helpless. Grief left unchecked can lead to depression, behavioural issues, suicide and substance abuse.
Much of what is addressed at camp is the isolation kids feel around their grief; it is a poignant experience for the campers to have the chance to go away for three days, (oftentimes, these kids have never been up north) with other people their own age, forming a bond over their loss. Camp Erin is a safe place for young people to identify with other kids who are feeling the same emotions, including anger, worry, guilt and often, a "Why me?" outlook.
When kids come back from camp, at ease and with the confidence to talk about their grief, it gets passed along to their parents."
Full article: Camp Erin offers a weekend for kids coping with loss
“I wonder if we can find in our own heart our own pilot who will search for more calm airs. Could we move up or down a bit to find a more peaceful state of the heart? Do we buckle up and patiently persevere through the storms of life? Is the turbulence something to avoid and get over, or is it life itself? Part of life?
I know there is wisdom in looking at serenity, not at merely “transcending” the storm, but also in navigating life. We are never promised pure bliss, or perfectly smooth sailing. A mature spiritual life consists of being able to navigate the storms. This I know.
I do remember the teachings of Buddhism, reminding us that the muck that the lotus rises through sustains the flower. This I know.
But I also know that not all of these stages are equally good, equally nourishing, equally beautiful for our hearts. That there are in us, inside us, more peaceful skies. Somewhere higher, or deeper, in us there is also a calm and tranquil realm of the spirit. It is breathing with the serenity above the turbulent clouds that there are blue skies and the warm sun. It is the state of being one with the One, breathing with the Source of all the universe. And what majestic intimacy there is Here. Now.
That serene realm, above the clouds, is not There. It is here, right here already with us…”
Full Article: On Being
“We are taught to believe that strength and perseverance and hope do not include brokenness. But that’s simply not true. Our brokenness, our sadness—they are the precursors to becoming strong and mighty. We step into our cracks and we kneel down and we pour our attention on them, and that is what becomes the superglue that puts us back together.
We do this alone and we do it together.
When we turn away and hide our sadness or our mess or the hard places in our lives, apologizing that we can’t get it together, what we’re doing is denying others the opportunity to step into our cracks with us. To come alongside us and say, Hey, you’re not alone. To take our broken pieces and and glue them back into place.
The opposite of turning away is turning toward. I know that sounds obvious. But what exactly is turning toward in a situation like this one?
It’s acknowledging our sadness, however deep it goes. It’s talking about our sorrow, however founded or unfounded it may be. It’s sharing our pain, our sickness, our burdens with one another and healing together—whether that together is with friends, family or people you just met who share your own pain or sickness or the kind of burdens you carry.
Maybe some won’t always take our brokenness the right way. Maybe sometimes they’ll call us names or shame us or make us feel like we’ve done the exact thing we should never have done. But the only way to survive the hard places is to open them to the light. The only way back to strength is to acknowledge how this thing has weakened us. The only way out is through the cracks.”