Somewhere between the uncertainty and the coming to terms, there stirs in us a deep abiding mourning. We are a world engulfed in a perpetual state of grief. On a very palpable level our souls are exposed, vulnerable, with nothing but our internal compass to guide us, and that feels broken, off course. We are unmoored, drifting, at times quietly languishing, or simply watching the horizon, and then without warning being jarred about by angry, raging waves.
Global Pandemic. A shot heard round the world. I believe this was the catalyst for the cavernous deprivation we would begin to feel and then internalize, with limited skills to identify the fallout and no place to put all the ensuing emotions. Incomes were ruptured, businesses irrevocably destroyed, massive death tolls mounted, our soul feeding connections were stripped from us and the music was silenced. Life as we knew it was shredded, almost overnight, accompanied by devastating losses, taking huge pieces of us with it. There were lessons in the air. We had been fractured, a house of cards society built on too much consumption, excess and exhaustion, and the universe was desperately trying to help us restore our purer selves. Prior to this, we lived life so quickly and so blissfully detached that we ignored our feelings and the feelings of others. Isolation and fear quickly cast light upon the gaping holes in our societal and economic infrastructures and mostly, our ability to self soothe, to reflect, to sit with our fear and precariousness.
We couldn’t hear it then but it was beckoning us to look inward, to take stock, to pay attention. To find the gifts in this great pause.
But we didn’t. We slowed down out of necessity, but we didn’t cooperate, we didn’t come together. Not like we needed to. With so much uncertainty guiding us, many of us fell prey to the lure of self. Like a crack of thunder in a stormy sky.
I think what happened next affirmed that the world was on fire, a second warning at our feet. Civil unrest exploded across our country, an opportunity for awakening in those of us who don’t experience the reality of oppression and had much to learn. Shockingly, or maybe not, our President then lit the match that fueled the fires of racism and anger that burned our cities and our spirits to the ground. This was a devastating and powerful piece of the heartbreak and the mourning as we watched our nation descend into this soulless, empty divide that had existed, but not been so blatantly encouraged. The soothing space between patriotism and homeland disintegrated to ashes, leaving us hopeless, wondering what was next.
I said from the beginning that this pandemic reveals us. There was a message for every human and we weren’t getting it. Good and decent people held tightly to fear because they had nothing else to cling to amid the unpredictability that polarized them, while others turned their hearts outward, searching for someone to help, for ways to matter. Many people did what was asked of them and many others chose not to and all of it seemed to be a desperate cry to get through something that was not only unprecedented but so unforgiving in its casualties. And every single thing that has come afterwards has been woven into the fiber of who we are as a nation, a nation built on our character. The enemy became us. Our subcultures, our near and dear. Long time friends and families, people we thought we knew who could not only avert their eyes against the storm but refuse to acknowledge that it existed, were unrecognizable to us. All of this came crashing against our already aching, broken hearts. If we thought we were treading water by then, we couldn’t have been more wrong. Our grief continues to evolve, but the biggest by far, that supersedes even all those things we have lost, is what we have yet to lose. It is inescapably uncertain.
I sat on the porch with a dear friend the other night and we spoke of the losses that have set the patterns of our grief. She represents everyone I know. She has had several moments of emotional lapses and finds herself rising again to get through another day, then wakes to experience deep sadness again, as though her peace and resolve never existed. Unpleasant feelings, especially the ones that come with the five stages of grief, represent a death within themselves. There is not one person I know that has not been affected by some or every part of what this year has presented us with, and for too many of those people there have been dire, permanent losses they may never come back from. Theirs is a very particular form of anguish, a present, painful reminder that we cannot always choose our circumstances, yet must live with the fallout. With the passing of our dreams, the loss of the future we thought we would have, the huge void left by a stagnant, persistent virus that illuminated all the brokenness of our society, all the crevices that we would fall through and never recover from, all the ways that we were different instead of the same, we found a strange sense of oneness. I don’t know many people whose hearts don’t break daily from the relentless storms, with how we have been exposed in all our humanity and all our ugliness. As this current climate angrily simmers, civil unrest continues without justice, and the pandemic lingers, turning time into a slow march, we find ourselves continually being pulled into new realities for what this means in our lives. This grief is not as devastating as the loss of a loved one but it is visceral and actual, and must be respected as such.
As self-aware and centered as I am, I have found myself drowning in the emotions of this abyss more often than I’d like to count. My body has done the mourning, through physical pain and many days of heartache for the life I created and loved, feeling like a piece of me has been unceremoniously torn away, leaving only a gaping hole. At the same time, I have savored the opportunities that have come with the isolation, have cozied myself into the arms of solitude and discovered that my intuition is more keen than ever. My personal awakening has served to challenge my inner paradigms, and will forever change the way I show up in the world, for which I am thankful. My foray into unfamiliar emotional places and activism has created tumultuous shifts in my relationships that require my willingness to move forward without some of the people that I love the dearest. So I grieve that too. I, like many, have been peeling back layers of thick emotions, some that I’d rather not have it all, only to find myself exhausted yet stronger for it when I come up for air from these powerful currents. I’m not sure how to dive in, immerse myself completely and enjoy the swim, but I know I must if I am to thrive here. So I drink from the reservoirs of my resilience, and strive to hold sacred every part of this process.
“We used to believe there was solid ground.”
Glennon Doyle
This may all appear to be something we are waiting to get through, but it isn’t. We have been offered a unique opportunity to recreate our own solid ground, to dissect what our values really mean, to reaffirm what we cherish, to question everything we knew until we are unwaveringly confident, within the darkest recesses of our soul, in our truth. We will only be able to do that by looking inward as deeply and fiercely as possible, by loving ourselves through every negative feeling we have and allowing it to make us more intensely rooted in our ability to cope.
This, in its entirety, is our defining moment. We are being internally transcended. We are becoming. We will not move through this unscathed, and there is no ‘normal’ to return to. What we build, what we tear down, what we fight for, what we stay silent to, is laid bare for everyone to see. It is who we are.
The shock waves of loss are complex and I think it takes our breath away sometimes, the force with which this pulls us in. So we do the best we can. We create little pockets of a familiarity, with virtual celebrations, Zoom calls, intimate gatherings and reaching out in new ways. It is not the same yet it offers us refuge, connection, and desperately needed unity.
Our collective grief is the unseen veil that shrouds each of us, through every single breath and moment in our lives, yet is so difficult to navigate, because we have never experienced anything like this. As we seek small miracles and simple pleasures to be grateful for, we must first honor what is happening, carve out space and invite the nuances and disquiet of unwanted side effects, listen and lean into them instead of being at constant war with what is a very real part of ourselves.
Perhaps, we can hold to the belief that there is something bigger than ourselves at play here. That hidden beneath all this anger, loss, sadness and disarming dubiety, there lies something lovely, spiritual and hopeful, and as we unearth, then embrace the meaning, we will surrender to something new, becoming more beautiful, more gracious, more humane, more equipped to compel equality, acceptance and true kindness toward one another, with a newly held and deeper appreciation for those things that align with who we really want to be.
If not that, then our grief is in vain.
Whew! Amen, Sistah!!! <3