Grief and the New Normal
So, last night I was sitting at the local restaurant bar, chatting with the bartender and waiting for my girlfriends to arrive for happy hour and chats - maybe even a hot plate of nachos.
Just kidding.
As much as I would like to have brushed my hair, be wearing real pants, and “outside” shoes - that is just not the reality of the world I am currently living in. Did you know there is a global pandemic going on?!
::insert insane laughter here::
Of course you know - you are also living in this new reality we call “The Rona”, “COVID-times”, “Coronaviscious”, “The COVE”, “Coronacation” (maybe a stretch at this point). No matter what you call it, the world has forever changed and the entire planet is a player in the gameshow of “WTF?!” (sponsored by Charmin and Purell).
Here is how I see it. We are collectively experiencing fear, anxiety, sadness, and loss of all kinds. This game we have all been forced to play (just like Jr High dodgeball) came unexpectedly, swiftly and, oh yeah, it kills people. Add in the fact that the rules of this game are perpetually changing and we don’t know when it will come to an end. This smells like a recipe ripe for those emotions of fear, anxiety, sadness, and loss - which I also feel is relevant in pubescent dodgeball but that’s just one gals opinion. That feeling, of what we’ve lost or what we might lose, is called grief.
Wikipedia defines grief this way: “Grief is the response to loss... Although conventionally focused on the emotional response to loss, it also has physical, cognitive, behavioral, social, cultural, spiritual and philosophical dimensions. Individuals grieve in connection with a variety of losses throughout their lives. Loss can be categorized as either physical or abstract, the physical loss being related to something that the individual can touch or measure, such as losing a spouse through death, while other types of loss are abstract, and relate to aspects of a person's social interactions.”
Yup, that checks out with me. Right now, in addition to the tragic losses of life and health and jobs are the losses experienced by all of us: missed concerts, dance performances, canceled sports seasons, missed vacations, and separation from family and friends when we need them most. In addition, we are experiencing anticipatory grief - the “what-ifs” of potential loss in the future. There’s something bad out there. With a virus, this kind of grief is so confusing. We know something bad is happening but can’t see it, which breaks our sense of safety. We have also lost the predictability that we take for granted in daily life: that there will be milk and toilet paper at the grocery store, that we can safely touch a door knob with our bare hands, that we can get a haircut and our teeth cleaned or spend a Saturday afternoon at the movies - that we can touch our own face!
I am feeling all of this loss. However, I’ve been fighting it. It doesn’t feel right to attach the word “grief” to my experience. I am surrounded by my family, and have enough food and supplies. I have virtual connection with the entire world and plenty of games/books/puzzles, etc. My family and I are safe and healthy and (so far) have not lost any loved ones to the virus. What right do I have to be grieving?
But I learned from a wise woman and therapist once that we all need to practice living in the BOTH/AND world more often. And this current time seems especially apropos for such a practice. Both/and is the idea that two things can exist simultaneously and both be true. I can be very fortunate to be in the current situation I am in, surrounded by loved ones and safe. AND I can wake up some days with a pit in my stomach facing another Groundhog’s Day of wandering around the house unsure of what direction to go. I can feel BOTH the gratitude for my privilege and the sorrow of not seeing and hugging my friends and family I love so much. I am allowed to be thankful to walk by our home office every day and see my sons working/schooling AND feel heartbroken for all the life they are missing out on in high school, college and the world. And I can shed tears for both.
One of the most comforting aspects of the peculiar world we are living in is the fact that we are all doing it together. This grief we are experiencing is communal. We are all going through collective culture shock right now. This is a brand new land where none of us have ever been, even though most of us are at home. I am frightened to see the destruction this virus will inflict across the world in the near and distant future. But I am also overwhelmed with love seeing the humanity and selflessness that is taking place simultaneously. It feels on my insides just like the quote spoken by Victor Hugo - “What makes night within us may leave stars.”
Grieving is a quiet process. It requires us to sit with our pain, to feel a kind of sadness that makes many of us so uncomfortable that we try to get rid of it. Instead of trying to push it away (::raising hand::) we can acknowledge our own grief. The more we can say to ourselves and others around us that these are meaningful losses (whatever they may be!) the more seen and comforted we will be. I personally feel much better when I admit I’m struggling rather than pretending I’m doing fine on any given day.
Now that I’ve identified my grief I can see the stages of it play out in my life over the last 4 weeks. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance are all players in this game. And these stages are not linear as many assume. They can happen in any order and cycle back and forth. Some days I’m full of acceptance and enjoying the opportunity to reorganize my cabinets, get extra time outdoors or slowly cook (another) meal. Other days I’m in the depressed stage and sit on the couch, binge watching TV and announcing to my family that I’m taking a “go to hell” day and for them to just work around me. Sometimes it changes by the hour. In the morning I’m angry at our government for what I perceive are major screw ups, and by lunch I’m peacefully reading my book out on the back porch.
I’m tons of fun to hang out with.
I’m hoping in all of this to give myself more grace - cut myself some slack, if you will. As all things in life, there is no right way to do this. What is happening right now is HARD. There is no way to talk ourselves out of that reality. But as Flannery O'Connor says, “The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it.” The sooner I can accept and embrace that new reality the sooner I can grow from the pain. Because if I’ve learned one thing in this past year of therapy and personal growth, it is that growth is painful. We have no control over what is happening in this world. We only have control of ourselves and the choices that we make.
So I’m choosing to allow myself to feel all of the emotions, sit with them and embrace them as a part of this surreal time in history. I am choosing to not be judgemental of myself or others about how they are handling it. I am choosing to be productive some days and just to survive and breathe on others. I am choosing to reach out - to send love and receive it back, to share my feelings and listen to others share theirs. I am choosing to let go of what is “normal” every day as I create a new normal for myself and loved ones. I choose to “hope for the infinite opportunity and oppression present in every single moment...for the suffering that comes with freedom...for the pain that comes from happiness….for the wisdom that comes from ignorance. For the power that comes from surrender.” (Mark Manson). And I also choose to fart freely in my house because I can’t escape the other 5 people that live here and gas happens.
I’d like to leave you with an image of my first water bottle sticker and a beautiful song to play on a rainy day like this.
The Times They are A-Changing
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQaUeO1g1mk
Just kidding.
As much as I would like to have brushed my hair, be wearing real pants, and “outside” shoes - that is just not the reality of the world I am currently living in. Did you know there is a global pandemic going on?!
::insert insane laughter here::
Of course you know - you are also living in this new reality we call “The Rona”, “COVID-times”, “Coronaviscious”, “The COVE”, “Coronacation” (maybe a stretch at this point). No matter what you call it, the world has forever changed and the entire planet is a player in the gameshow of “WTF?!” (sponsored by Charmin and Purell).
Here is how I see it. We are collectively experiencing fear, anxiety, sadness, and loss of all kinds. This game we have all been forced to play (just like Jr High dodgeball) came unexpectedly, swiftly and, oh yeah, it kills people. Add in the fact that the rules of this game are perpetually changing and we don’t know when it will come to an end. This smells like a recipe ripe for those emotions of fear, anxiety, sadness, and loss - which I also feel is relevant in pubescent dodgeball but that’s just one gals opinion. That feeling, of what we’ve lost or what we might lose, is called grief.
Wikipedia defines grief this way: “Grief is the response to loss... Although conventionally focused on the emotional response to loss, it also has physical, cognitive, behavioral, social, cultural, spiritual and philosophical dimensions. Individuals grieve in connection with a variety of losses throughout their lives. Loss can be categorized as either physical or abstract, the physical loss being related to something that the individual can touch or measure, such as losing a spouse through death, while other types of loss are abstract, and relate to aspects of a person's social interactions.”
Yup, that checks out with me. Right now, in addition to the tragic losses of life and health and jobs are the losses experienced by all of us: missed concerts, dance performances, canceled sports seasons, missed vacations, and separation from family and friends when we need them most. In addition, we are experiencing anticipatory grief - the “what-ifs” of potential loss in the future. There’s something bad out there. With a virus, this kind of grief is so confusing. We know something bad is happening but can’t see it, which breaks our sense of safety. We have also lost the predictability that we take for granted in daily life: that there will be milk and toilet paper at the grocery store, that we can safely touch a door knob with our bare hands, that we can get a haircut and our teeth cleaned or spend a Saturday afternoon at the movies - that we can touch our own face!
I am feeling all of this loss. However, I’ve been fighting it. It doesn’t feel right to attach the word “grief” to my experience. I am surrounded by my family, and have enough food and supplies. I have virtual connection with the entire world and plenty of games/books/puzzles, etc. My family and I are safe and healthy and (so far) have not lost any loved ones to the virus. What right do I have to be grieving?
But I learned from a wise woman and therapist once that we all need to practice living in the BOTH/AND world more often. And this current time seems especially apropos for such a practice. Both/and is the idea that two things can exist simultaneously and both be true. I can be very fortunate to be in the current situation I am in, surrounded by loved ones and safe. AND I can wake up some days with a pit in my stomach facing another Groundhog’s Day of wandering around the house unsure of what direction to go. I can feel BOTH the gratitude for my privilege and the sorrow of not seeing and hugging my friends and family I love so much. I am allowed to be thankful to walk by our home office every day and see my sons working/schooling AND feel heartbroken for all the life they are missing out on in high school, college and the world. And I can shed tears for both.
One of the most comforting aspects of the peculiar world we are living in is the fact that we are all doing it together. This grief we are experiencing is communal. We are all going through collective culture shock right now. This is a brand new land where none of us have ever been, even though most of us are at home. I am frightened to see the destruction this virus will inflict across the world in the near and distant future. But I am also overwhelmed with love seeing the humanity and selflessness that is taking place simultaneously. It feels on my insides just like the quote spoken by Victor Hugo - “What makes night within us may leave stars.”
Grieving is a quiet process. It requires us to sit with our pain, to feel a kind of sadness that makes many of us so uncomfortable that we try to get rid of it. Instead of trying to push it away (::raising hand::) we can acknowledge our own grief. The more we can say to ourselves and others around us that these are meaningful losses (whatever they may be!) the more seen and comforted we will be. I personally feel much better when I admit I’m struggling rather than pretending I’m doing fine on any given day.
Now that I’ve identified my grief I can see the stages of it play out in my life over the last 4 weeks. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance are all players in this game. And these stages are not linear as many assume. They can happen in any order and cycle back and forth. Some days I’m full of acceptance and enjoying the opportunity to reorganize my cabinets, get extra time outdoors or slowly cook (another) meal. Other days I’m in the depressed stage and sit on the couch, binge watching TV and announcing to my family that I’m taking a “go to hell” day and for them to just work around me. Sometimes it changes by the hour. In the morning I’m angry at our government for what I perceive are major screw ups, and by lunch I’m peacefully reading my book out on the back porch.
I’m tons of fun to hang out with.
I’m hoping in all of this to give myself more grace - cut myself some slack, if you will. As all things in life, there is no right way to do this. What is happening right now is HARD. There is no way to talk ourselves out of that reality. But as Flannery O'Connor says, “The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it.” The sooner I can accept and embrace that new reality the sooner I can grow from the pain. Because if I’ve learned one thing in this past year of therapy and personal growth, it is that growth is painful. We have no control over what is happening in this world. We only have control of ourselves and the choices that we make.
So I’m choosing to allow myself to feel all of the emotions, sit with them and embrace them as a part of this surreal time in history. I am choosing to not be judgemental of myself or others about how they are handling it. I am choosing to be productive some days and just to survive and breathe on others. I am choosing to reach out - to send love and receive it back, to share my feelings and listen to others share theirs. I am choosing to let go of what is “normal” every day as I create a new normal for myself and loved ones. I choose to “hope for the infinite opportunity and oppression present in every single moment...for the suffering that comes with freedom...for the pain that comes from happiness….for the wisdom that comes from ignorance. For the power that comes from surrender.” (Mark Manson). And I also choose to fart freely in my house because I can’t escape the other 5 people that live here and gas happens.
I’d like to leave you with an image of my first water bottle sticker and a beautiful song to play on a rainy day like this.
The Times They are A-Changing
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQaUeO1g1mk
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