Collective Grief
We certainly are in an unprecedented time—and it’s hard to have much wisdom or perspective when we are in the midst of something big, as we are with this public health pandemic. The news and recommendations continue to evolve and change, the numbers of those affected with Coronavirus continues to rise, and the weeks that many of us have been at home is taking its collective toll. Our emotions are swirling right now—sometimes upbeat and enjoying the “new normal” and at other times, a sadness just rolls in and stays awhile. We are juggling work from home, homeschooling our children, adjusting to less social interaction and outdoor play, and trying to create some stability in an unpredictable world. This is if we are fortunate and not ill with COVID-19.
I just keep coming back to the idea that we are in a collective grief process. I feel it in my bones.
While we’ve never had a flu epidemic quite like this in our lifetime, nor have we had our country on shelter-in-place orders--there is a familiarity with the emotions that we might be feeling right now. It is not unlike the feelings that arise when we feel threatened and scared, are forced to contemplate our own mortality or the mortality of those who we love, or when we’ve lost anything that we’ve valued. Grief can be in reaction to losing someone we loved, going through a divorce or break-up, moving away from somewhere beloved, infertility or miscarriage, losing a pet, retiring, coping with chronic illness….the list goes on. If you’ve lived through wars, recessions, or 9/11—we understand that life will never be quite the same again after this experience—and that is LOSS. If you’ve lived long enough, you’ve undoubtedly been touched in this way. We are in true grief and anticipatory grief on an interconnected global scale.
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, the landmark psychiatrist, who wrote the book ON DEATH AND DYING (among others), articulated the Five Stages of Grief: Denial, Bartering, Anger, Depression, and Acceptance. These stages are not linear and when we grieve, we dance between these stages in our own individual grief process. David Kessler, a protégé, has added a sixth stage of grief, which is Meaning. The entire world is suffering and grieving in the present moment—our linked humanity is so clear right now. Some are grieving the lost lives of those they love due to this disease….others are grieving the collective losses of independence, physical proximity to friends and extended relatives, physical touch, routine, autonomy, job loss, financial pressures, leisure activities, travel, school rites of passage—proms, graduations, sporting events, spring plays...life as we have known it has changed—it is necessary and yet it is profoundly sad and overwhelming if we allow ourselves to feel it. Yet we must feel it, as it comes to each of us…over the coming moments and months.
There is no quick fix to grief. There is no way to cope ourselves out of it by endless meditation, distraction, yoga, prayer, or talking with a friend. While all of these wonderful tools can help and are worthwhile, sometimes we need to still ourselves and sit with the sadness. It can be restorative to just give in to it for a time…feel it in your way…just don’t get stuck there indefinitely. This is the same for our children—in moments, they are sad and overwhelmed too. Make space for them to express that part of their experience and know that it is normal. Children do have a wonderful way of being in the moment, not worrying about the future so much—and we could take a lesson from the way they naturally cope during this time. As time marches on, we will move between the different stages of grief…months/years down the road, we will move towards Acceptance and Meaning. In the meantime:
Be curious about yourself. What is brought up for you during this time? It is common for previous losses to come back to our minds during a time when we are grieving. Be gentle with yourself.
Consider your faith tradition if you have one. For some traditions, this is the holiest week of the year. What does it tell you about suffering, loss, struggle, and hope? What can you draw upon to help you cope during this time? If you feel lost inside your own tradition, is there another faith tradition that has a healing element for you—or could nature, prayer, or awe assist you right now?
Cry ❤️ “Let your tears come. Let them water your soul.” --Eileen Mayhew
Consider a creative outlet—in times of challenge, often we feel compelled to journal, create music, paint, write.
Look for inspiration—it truly is everywhere right now. Find moments of joy and connection!
Get outside of your own head for a few moments—do something kind for someone else, donate to charity, focus on ways that you can contribute to humanity in your big or small way.
Remember that this too shall pass. You have survived hard things in the past and you can get through this. What ways could your past coping strengths be helpful to you now? How have your children coped in the past and how can this help them now?
Make space for your loved ones to have their own experience right now at their own pace. We all grieve differently.
Do less, put less pressure on yourselves and your children. Just BE. Just feel.
Acknowledge your own emotions and model that for your children.
Recognize if your children are relieved right now—with less rigor, club sports, etc. Recognize if you feel some relief from the pace of life as well. It is important to acknowledge this when we get back to a more normalized experience—what in our lives has not been serving us or our children? How can we shift if need be? How is our world going to change for the better after COVID-19?
Remember this quote: "When one door closes, another opens, but sometimes it’s Hell in the hallway."
While silver linings are already becoming apparent (thankfully!)…I keep thinking about how this experience has highlighted the collective “Yes” response to Life. It is an affirmation that we are grateful for health and our human experience each time we are socially distant, wear a mask, wear gloves, wash our hands, support our medical workers in their valiant effort, support our local restaurants and bookstores, watch our church services online, etc. In my work as a therapist, often I am sitting with someone who is struggling—sometimes with a more passive “yes” to life, or a “maybe” it’s all worth it, or a tragic “no” to life. There can be much ambivalence in the therapy office about whether their pain and suffering are worth it, if they can cope through it, and questioning whether there is a reason to hope. I see a shift in the collective, yes there is sadness and grief—but, most feel an increased connectedness, a resilience rising, and a bold “Yes” that life is to be lived.
Best in Health and Hope,
Leah