I can't believe this is happening. This is so surreal. This is terrifying. I don't even know what to do. My soul hurts. These are just a few of the phrases that have passed across my lips in the past few weeks. Perhaps some of you can relate. We are all grieving a major loss right now. One that is triggering each of us for different reasons but is literally impacting everyone around the globe. From my friends in the deaf community in Cambodia, to my friend in Kenya, to my host family in Europe, my collaborators in Australia, our missioners in South America and the guy living next door.
We are grieving. For some, it is the loss of a loved one or our health. For others it is the sense of security that we had somehow protected ourselves from the dangers in the world through our wealth and prestige. For some who never had that protection, they are literally facing starvation due to the hoarding of others. For others, it is the loss of a job perhaps one that was supposed to be stable and provide long-term security. Many have lost their routine, no longer able to attend school. We have lost some self-determination, no longer able to go where we want when we want. Many have lost close physical contact that is key to their culture, sense of connection, and feeling of belonging in community. We have lost weddings, graduations, proms, study abroad years, internships, funerals, the ability to be with our aging or ill loved ones, date nights, gym time, people we love, our faith, the list goes on and on and on. Sometimes that list overwhelms and we cannot yet see past it. And, that is OK. Feel the feels.
As a world, we can see people in all the stages of grief, some of us are able to really multitask, feeling two or three or five of the stages at the same time.
At first, we tried to deny this was happening. This isn't real. This is just a few people freaking out over nothing. As it came closer to our doorstep, that likely got harder. Though, some of us continue to be in a denial stage of grief. Going about our lives as if we are not risking our or others lives in the process, still traveling just because we can or had it scheduled. We see friends and neighbors taking risks that others would see as unnecessary and self-centered. Even some powerful people choose to deny the reality of our situation, speaking as if this will just quickly blow over, unable to accept the new normal. We are in denial, not yet able to accept that like World War II or, for those in the USA, the Kennedy assassination or Apartheid in South Africa there will be a before and an after this and those will likely look and feel drastically different.
Some of us have turned to anger. We are edgy and raging against the failures of government, of one political party or other, of healthcare officials, of the system, or those in denial. We are angry that our lives have been disrupted. We are angry that change has come to our doorstep despite our building a fortress in which we could control what happens when. We are angry that we are being affected or that people have stopped traveling so we are now without a job or that we can no longer find the brand of bread we most enjoy. We are angry at the hurt we are causing to one another, we are angry at the damage we did while in denial, or the inequality that means some will bear much more burden in this pandemic than others. Much of this anger comes from fear, hurt, loneliness and isolation but we are angry.
And, some of us are bargaining. I am sure many a “let this cup pass me by'' prayer has been muttered over the last few days. We are bargaining about when we should and should not leave our house. Bargaining with ourselves over what is and is not enough tuna to purchase and that we are not hoarding we are just being proactive. We bargain that we will only go to the office occasionally, or try to compromise away the situation, bartering to try to regain some control. I can't begin to imagine the bargaining that is crossing the minds of those fighting for their lives, fighting to save others lives, or sitting waiting.
And, we mourn. For many, the sadness no doubt overwhelms us. It creeps in as soon as the Netflix episode ends, or as we lay awake at night. It clouds our creative thoughts as we try to work from home. It muddles our brain, and vision, as we scroll mindlessly. We mourn our loss of stability. We mourn the future that may have been. We mourn the shredding of the shroud of security in which we had blindly wrapped ourselves, not realizing the shroud was made of the same fabric as the emperor's clothes. We mourn our vulnerability. We dwell in the despair of the loss of a loved one. We weep, we lament, we ugly cry and sit in the shadows of our room, perhaps wrapped in a blanket, still in our pajamas at noon. The sadness washes over us for all that was and could be lost. For not realizing how good we had it, for not taking full advantage. Why did we never try hot acroyoga with goats when we had the chance? Why did we not take the time to visit our friend while we could still reach out and hold their hand? We sigh the whys of sadness and let the waves of that grief wash back and forth across our pulverized soul, slowly soothing that fresh wound.
As those waves wash back and forth, we begin to see something new emerging. Beautiful glass is formed when heat and pressure combine. We are surviving the heat and feeling the pressure, we must trust that beauty will come. The mystical phoenix rises from the ashes of what was burnt away. We must believe we too will rise from the broken woulda, coulda, shouldas. We will come to a place of acceptance. There are opportunities here. Opportunities to pay closer attention to those around us, to learn to care for one another and look out for those in vulnerable situations. Opportunities to realize we are all vulnerable, in one way or another. Opportunities to realize the privilege we have and exercise that in deep, meaningful and prophetic ways. There can be an excitement in the new. This can re-focus us to remember at the end of the day, those around us are more important than meeting any metric. That job about which we once complained, is now a true blessing, as many no longer have one.
We will get through this and we are all on our own journey through our own grief. As we collectively grieve, each in our own way, we all have the opportunity to virtually meet those around us and hold their grief as a sacred part of their journey, without judgement on their denial or anger or bargaining or sadness or acceptance. We can learn from their experiences of grief. This commitment to deepening our understanding and compassionately responding will bring us all through this, together, to a better normal than we could have otherwise imagined. And, if even the thought of that makes you angry with me, or you deny it has any truth, or the blanket of despair is just wrapping tighter, know that is your feeling to feel and it is OK to not be OK right now.
If you are struggling and feeling hopeless in this time, please reach out to a friend, religious leader, mentor, family member, trained mental health professional, or the National Alliance on Mental Illness Crisis Text Line (741741).
Other resources include:
SAMHSA Treatment Referral Helpline, 1-877-SAMHSA7 (1-877-726-4727)
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, 1-800-273-TALK (8255)
The National Domestic Violence Hotline 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)
