In their book, Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg and psychologist Adam Grant endeavour to offer consolation to the mourning, to make sense of nothingness, and to locate the silver lining behind dark clouds, writes ANANYA BORGOHAIN
Two weeks after Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg’s husband, Dave Goldberg, passed away, she received a letter from an acquaintance in her sixties. The woman had lost her husband a few years earlier and wrote to Sheryl that she still could not cope with her husband’s absence. She wished she had words of comfort but alas, the void can never be filled. That letter “destroyed my hope that the pain would fade someday”, Sandberg writes in her newly released book, Option B. She reached out to an old acquaintance and a psychologist, Adam Grant, and sought to find some relief by talking to him. Gradually, they came to write this book, published by Penguin Random House.
Sandberg and Grant attempt to reiterate that grief was unavoidable for sure, but there is a bottom to the void at the same time. Together, they have endeavoured to offer consolation to the mourning, to make sense of nothingness, and to locate the silver lining behind the dark clouds.
Sheryl and Dave had gone to Mexico to celebrate his 50th birthday. It was an ideal getaway as Sheryl’s parents were babysitting their children at home while they made the most of the resort in Punta Mita. When the doctors confirmed that Dave had succumbed to his injury at the gym, Sheryl felt as if staying by his body quietly and holding his hand would bring him back. She was petrified of imagining their children not having a father for the rest of their lives. “He wouldn’t miss a soccer match, he would miss all of their matches...” She forgot to eat on time, could not sleep well, failed to organise the funeral on her own too. She seemed to have lost the zeal to live in the unbearable pain that was ruthless and so unexpected (“How could everyone go on as if nothing happenedIJ Didn’t they knowIJ”).
A few weeks after her husband’s death, she told a friend that she did not want to attend her child’s father-child activity at school without Dave. Her friend Phil replied, “Option A is not available. So let’s kick the shit out of option B.”
Sandberg and Grant write about psychologist Martin Seligman’s theory that three Ps may stunt recovery from grief: Personalisation — to put all blame on oneself; pervasiveness — to assume that one event will affect all areas of our life; and permanence — to believe that the effect will be never-ending.
The authors stress that the moment we discard the belief that we asked for our hardships, they will dissolve, making way for some comfort. They write, “None of us can change what we have already done. Self-compassion comes from realising that our imperfections are part of being human.” While shame can make people feel small and hopeless, compassion and empathy towards oneself could build a better and comfortable understanding of the ways of the world.
Communication is as important, the book emphasises: “One of the best ways to see ourselves clearly is to ask others to hold up a mirror.” Sandberg fondly recalls several such people — friends and acquaintances alike — who spoke to her and pushed her to do better. She talks about many moments when people dealing with grief opened up to her, while close friends also avoided an uncomfortable discussion around love and loss by talking about other mundane things like the weather! But she is resolute that opening up, asking people how they were holding up, sharing experiences can come to one’s rescue to a large extent.
“Humour can also provide a little dash of morality in which wrongs are righted. When you take a horrible situation and add a punch line to it, for at least a moment you have shifted the balance of power,” the authors argue. Jokes and wit help us emerge victorious in the face of sorrow. The book also cites that surgery patients who watch comedies request 25 per cent less pain medication. Humour can empower us to be more resilient.
Sandberg also talks about joining a club, about ways she suggested to make the club more comforting and constructive. She also talks about being appreciative of what she has. Not only did she have a rock solid support system but also the financial stability that allowed her the luxury to take the time to deal with her loss. She feels thankful that work helped her relax and found her things to indulge with. She also learned to offer an ear to the grievances of her colleagues and employers as well as people who did not seem to be well at face value. We often tend to not ask personal questions, worrying we may offend people or make them uncomfortable. However, at times, “How do you feelIJ Are you scaredIJ” could encourage many to bare their heart and feel much lighter.
Our idea of love is active. We express it by being around our loved ones, by nurturing them, spending time with them, talking to them. It’s almost tangible. So when death interferes, the loss is irreparable but it only ends a life, it does not end a relationship. We can love someone just as much or even more after they are gone. It is hope in which we should thrive. The world may not be as good after a loved one has passed away, but it also looks so much better because they had been in our lives.
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