"Hope is the Thing with Feathers"

When devastation comes to someone else, or to an entire geographic region in the case of the wildfires in Southern California, it's not always clear what we should do. We can donate funds to organizations like the Los Angeles Fire Department Foundation, Pasadena Humane, or the American Red Cross. We can add items to a neighbor's long list of necessities that are being driven down to Los Angeles.

But it doesn't always feel like enough.

And when the devastation is so great, whether you're watching someone sift through the rubble of what's left of their home, or standing by a friend at the funeral of their loved one, or helplessly watching another friend's marriage deconstruct, it can be hard to stay open to their grief because of what their loss cracks opens in us.

And yet, that's the best thing you can do for them: stay open.

You can listen, even when your heart is breaking because you're filled with memories of your own grief and loss. You can heal old wounds when you allow yourself to feel the emotions that you experience and then let go—at a time when you're separate from your grieving friend because you wouldn't want to overshadow their experience.

​You can offer to help with specific tasks, like taking their kids for a night or a long weekend so the parents get a respite, picking up items at the grocery store, taking their dog on the day that a vet is coming for the end of life care for their very ill cat. If you're far away, you can send a gift card for a meal delivery service and meet with them on a video call to make space for their difficult emotions.

I have friends who have generously and easily offered to help when I've gone through hard times and my gratitude for them is immense. In December, my car up and died unexpectedly and these friends loaned me their car until I found a new one. They're the people who took care of Jasper, my rescue poodle, on the day when our cat, Traviesa, was ready to be put to sleep, so my family and I could focus our love and attention on our beloved cat. During a time when I needed a quiet sanctuary for a few days, my friends offered a place for me to stay. They always seem to know what to do and say to help.

If you're not sure what to do or say when someone else is in crisis, you can use a helpful tool called Ring Theory, developed by Susan Silk and Barry Goldman. Here's how it works:

• Write the name of the person who is struggling in the center of a piece of paper and draw a circle around it.
• Then, draw increasingly larger circles around that first circle.
• In the first circle out from the person's name, write down the names of people in their inner circle: close family, intimate friends.
• Fill in the rest of the rings with the names of their support people. The closer the relationship is emotionally for the person who is struggling, the closer the person will be to the center of the ring.

Once you have the rings filled in with names, understand that support—physical, emotional, spiritual—always goes inward, toward the person in the center. Permission to complain always goes outward. For the person in crisis in the center of the ring, all support goes to them and they can complain and grieve and be as messy as they need to be. For example, if someone is in a closer ring than you, with the Ring Theory, you wouldn't call them to discuss how hard this situation is for you, because complaints only go outward. Instead, you'd reach out to a friend who's in a more outer ring on the chart to work through your emotions.

Following the Ring Theory can be helpful when you don't know what to say or do for someone in crisis. You'll probably worry that you'll say or do the wrong thing. You'll probably say or do the wrong thing anyway. If you're coming from a place of love, it matters more that you reach out, even when you're uncomfortable, even when it's hard, even when it hurts to stay open.

​"Grief lasts longer than sympathy, which is one of the tragedies of the grieving."
Elizabeth McCracken, author of The Hero of this Book.