America, We Have a Problem Part 2 - While I wasn't looking...

 

This week, I planned on writing the second part of the blog, following up on what we can do to engage in our Cultural Revolution threatened by Trump and his MAGA crowd. I worked on several bits and pieces for the blog. I found my central idea and started to build the outline. But when I wasn't looking, something started happening. I found myself lingering in bed, later and later each morning. I had trouble concentrating when I sat down in front of the computer screen. Generally, writing lifts my spirits, but every time I touched the keyboard, I could feel the energy running out onto the table. In lieu of writing, I played on my iPad and snacked! Yep, something was going on. Saturday morning, as I lay in bed debating whether I wanted to bother getting up or not, a little voice whispered in my inner ear. You're grieving, and you don’t know it!

 

Most folks encounter unacknowledged grief from time to time. Retirees may experience unacknowledged grief when they leave their work life behind. They miss the routine, satisfaction of the work, or the people with whom they worked. Empty nesters may grieve when their last child leaves the coop. People who have gone through a life-changing health event, such as a serious illness or a major surgery, may grieve the loss of their 'healthy outlook.' Some grieve when a close friend moves out of the neighborhood. These events can cause symptoms much like those I have been experiencing. We may not attribute our depression or lack of energy to grief. But, when we fail to connect the dots to grief, the depression will deepen and, in some cases, steal our joy completely.

 

 Yep, I am grieving! All the signs point to a loss. But which one? Unfortunately, loss is a common companion for people in their 70s. We lose friends and family. We have said goodbye to things we used to be able to do with ease. We are saying goodbye to the future as the inevitable, inexorably approaches. Then there are the everyday little losses that accumulate in our souls. These can be as simple as running out of your favorite coffee or hearing that your favorite restaurant has closed. In sitting with grieving people as a Hospice Chaplain, I was amazed at the things that triggered or deepened a person's grief. Yep, I am grieving.

 

The first step in dealing with grief is to acknowledging it and then, if possible, identify the corresponding loss. This acknowledgment is a powerful tool that can help us regain a sense of control over our emotional well-being.

 

I found my first clue came by looking back at my journal and figuring out when the depression began to appear. It started around the second week of November and has been encroaching on more and more of my life ever since.

 

In our culture, the common expressions of grief are denial, anger, depression, bargaining, and acceptance. While these are often labeled as stages, most people don't experience them in a staged manner. Each person grieves in their own unique way and in their own time. However, these five experiences are quite common with all grief. As I reflected on the last three months, I found instances of all of them. Our grief is personal and unique to us, and that's okay.

 

Also, my latest bout with depression began when I heard myself giving voice to my loss of hope with some very close friends. The conversation was about the turmoil following the change at the White House. I am generally a hopeful person who stares into the abyss and still sees the candle burning in the darkness. I was astounded when I heard myself confess that I had lost hope! Losing hope was a life-changing loss for me. It was devastating. I had found the cause of my grief.

 

In the last two weeks, I have written extensively about recovering hope in the face of a cascade of painful news from Washington, DC. I was struggling to recover hope. But whether there was hope or not, the damage had been done to my psyche. I discovered that I was no longer invulnerable to existential despair. And that loss was devastating. It was personal. It touched on every part of who I am. And as long as I failed to recognize it as the source of my grief, I was not only staring into an abyss, but I was falling into it! Such is the power of unacknowledged grief.

 

This brings us to the first step in dealing with unacknowledged grief. “When you find yourself in a hole, quit digging.” As long as I was unable to recognize my grief, I kept digging away. I blamed myself, the people around me, the headlines, and my health. In the process, I was falling deeper and deeper into the hole of anxiety, helplessness, and despair. I had to drop the shovel and look up at the edge of the hole that had engulfed me. When I realized that I was making myself miserable with my guesswork, I stopped guessing and started looking for the source. Amazingly enough, as soon as I recognized that I was grieving the loss of my identity as a hopeful person, I stopped falling. I was still depressed, but I could feel solid ground beneath my spiritual feet. I stopped digging and started looking up.

 

Relying on my experiences with other grieving people, I knew that I needed to find comfort in my routines without becoming a captive of my habits. I needed some normal to steady my journey, so I focused on my everyday routines. As I have written before, routines are those actions we take to deal with the details of life. Shaving, washing dishes, etc., can help us get back in the groove. Routines require that we stay awake and mindful of what we are doing. Otherwise, we become trapped in our routines, and they can devolve into unhealthy patterns. And, by not paying attention, we repeat the unhealthy behaviors.

 

For example, I enjoy writing. I have several habits that help me find the sweet spot of writing where everything else disappears, and I enter that Zen-like state called "the flow." However, a small part of me stays attentive. It alerts me when my words are not as clear as I would like. It reminds me to get up and move around periodically. I am in my routine of writing. But, if I quit paying attention and start habitually pounding out words on the keyboard, things go awry. I become trapped in the habit, and everything suffers: my writing, body, and soul. Eventually, when I step away from the keyboard, I am exhausted.

 

After identifying my grief, I could take refuge in my writing routines and was able to process my grief. That is the power of routines. They free up just enough of our lives so that we have the energy and mindpower to process and work through our grief. I assume that most folks do not routinely write. Some folks clean the house. Others read fiction. Many go for walks. Regardless of the routine, allow them to gently open your life to the feelings you are experiencing and then feel them.

 

A woman I worked with following the loss of her husband found solace in housework. Between dusting and mopping, she would sit and remember the life she shared with him. Then, she would get up and start another project. In one of our last visits, she noted that she had the cleanest house on the block and, with a twinkle in her eye, added, "And I have cleaned a lot of stuff out of my heart, too!"

 

One further step proved helpful, as well. I mentioned at the top that I had discovered that I was grieving during a conversation with some trusted friends. These friends are part of my tribe. They are always there when I need them, or they need me. I meet with some by Zoom. I contact others via phone, email, text, and FB. Our life on the road would not be possible without these valued and trusted voices. The safe space they provide allows me to hear myself talking and see what my friends hear in my words. Through them, I could see my grief and discover its source. They allowed me to talk my way through the moment by simply listening. My friends respect each other too much to rush to judgment or a quick fix. Instead, they offer a sacred space where my soul can whisper and be heard. In these difficult days, we all need a trusted tribe of friends.

 

Suppose you are depressed and feel empty, angry, or desperate to find a way out. In that case, you might ask yourself if you are grieving and then, if so, try and specifically identify the loss that may be causing it.

 

Then, give yourself room to grieve by staying engaged in your routines. Share your feelings with trusted friends. Commit yourself to taking care of yourself so you can muster the strength to resist the changes being forced upon us. Next week, I will share some ways we can engage in resistance by supporting the revolution against those who would drag us back into the first half of the 20^th century. 

 

 

 

In the meantime, regardless of the scary clown show in DC, we need hope to keep going. Therefore, commit yourself to finding and maintaining that hope. It will help keep your grief at bay as we continue resisting the counterrevolution against all we fought for in the last 50 years. Stay healthy. Your voice is needed for the revolution.

 

Until next week,

Bob