Guiding Clients Through Grief: Advice From Sheryl Sandberg

Sheryl Sandberg lived through a tragedy. She was suddenly widowed on vacation and left alone to raise two children. The book “Option B: Facing Adversity, Building Resilience, and Finding Joy” is her story, but it is much more than that. Sandberg teamed up with Adam Grant, a psychologist, best-selling author and respected public speaker, to write a guidebook of strategies that anyone can use to become more resilient in every aspect of life, no matter the obstacle, tragedy, failure or circumstance.

(Related: Amy Florian — Leading Through Loss: The 2017 IA 25)

Sandberg’s story of coping with overwhelming grief is a prominent theme, dominating the first chapters of the book and then forming the thread running through and connecting the remaining chapters. The book is written in her voice with her co-author referred to in the third person, yet as Sandberg states in the introduction, substantial portions of the book consist of Grant’s research, experiences and advice.

Working Through Grief

Sandberg’s personal story is powerful and riveting. The Facebook COO tells it with honest raw emotion undergirded by her determination to heal. She details the pervasiveness of grief throughout her day, the dread of bedtime and the regrets that all grievers have. She recommends the therapeutic benefit of journaling and expressive arts, self-compassion and self-care, looking for small successes to help rebuild self-confidence and coping ability, and forgiveness for self and others amid the total upheaval that death causes in one’s life.

She highlights the fact that in our society we deny death and grief, leading to an almost universal lack of understanding of the grief process or how to help. She hears the endless recitation of well-meaning but empty platitudes and the too-easy reassurance of those attempting to “fix it” or cheer her up. She acutely feels the invisibility that comes with being the “elephant in the room” even among friends.

Sandberg also correctly asserts that grief takes far more time than most people realize. The first anniversary of loss is not the end of grief. Even beginning to date again does not mean she has healed or put her husband behind her. It only means that she is committed to living and finding joy in spite of losing her best friend and great love, whom she will continue to miss and mourn.

Perhaps most importantly, the authors emphasize the possibility of post-traumatic growth, of coming out of the experience a better person than the one who went in. Guided by Grant and others, Sandberg eloquently writes about how grief changed her perspective and helped her gain more authentic appreciation for life and people; she found increased courage to form deeper relationships built on the awareness of loss.

Today, she finds ways to bring meaning out of what happened, and highlights the vital effects of connecting to a purpose greater than oneself. An essential tool in this growth was the gradual movement in her nightly routine from writing down three things she’d done well that day, to writing down three moments of joy and then to writing down three ways she had helped others. The final two steps are particularly pertinent in regaining life and happiness.

How Advisors Can Do More

Given so many points of wisdom and insight, I disagreed with a few things in Sandberg’s book.

Sandberg advises comforters not to ask what they can do, but to just to do something. My caution: Such advice can backfire. In my work, for instance, one widow’s siblings decided to “save her immense pain” by cleaning out her husband’s closet while she was gone and donating the clothing. Their well-meaning attempt multiplied her pain and almost threw her into despair.

My revised suggestion: Unless comforters know for certain that an action is helpful (i.e., mowing the lawn or picking family up from the airport), ask first. Ideally, offer choices — “Would you like me to do this, that or would something else be better?” This avoids disconnect between needs and actions, and also prevents overlap with the efforts of others.

On more than one occasion, people essentially told Sandberg she was grieving incorrectly or taking too much time, and she needed to snap out of it, get happy again or start dating. She reports that she was OK with the “kick in the pants” in those particular instances and from those particular people. I was dismayed, however, because it implies a benefit to telling someone to stop grieving and get with the program.

While a gentle challenge is a good and sometimes necessary thing, it must not devolve into telling someone what they “should” be doing, thinking or feeling. Grief takes a lot of time, and as long as they are continuing to move toward healing, people need to be companioned, not wedged into someone else’s schedule or expectations.

Sandberg rightly advises not to ask “How are you?” The suggestion she gave was “How are you today?” That is better, but I would complete the advice by recommending that advisors ask time-limited or open-ended questions that cannot be answered by standard responses such as “fine.” For instance, other options may include:

• “Is this an up day, a down day, or an all-over-the-place day?”

• “How do you wish people would act around you right now?”

• “This morning, would you rather talk about Jim, the sports game, your cat or what?”

• “In what ways is it getting easier and in what ways is it still just awful?”

• “What kind of a night was it for you last night?”

Sandberg advises telling grievers, “I’m here. Call me any time.” In practice, grievers hear that from countless sources, yet unless the speaker is in their innermost circle and they have a deep bond of trust, they are highly unlikely to call.

They know that everyone has boundaries, and most do not want a tearful call at 3 a.m. They are also aware that their own lives are shattered but others’ lives are back to normal, so they feel needy, vulnerable and reluctant to interrupt someone’s normal life to ask for something.