February 13, 2008 - Wednesday
There's something that has always annoyed me. Beginning in childhood, society immediately began training me to be a winner, a fearless hero triumphing over ANY situation, "fixing" or masking my emotions so that I could continue to march forward without shrinking or shirking away from a "successful" life. It told me that I was not supposed to get down, certainly not in any kind of debilitating way, and that if I did manage to lose my footing, I must immediately pick myself up, dust myself off and keep on going. There did not seem to be any middle ground in this, no waiting or lingering period; either I won or I failed. Either I rose above or was defeated. And once this outcome was determined, it was considered final.
I guess it is because of this notion that society also deems there is a specific time limit for being sad and/or depressed and a time limit for maintaining sympathy of another's dire situation. In the case of grief in the U.S.A. workplace, usually three paid days of bereavement are given an employee (with a full-time job) if an immediate family member dies. It's just enough time to make the necessary arrangements and be back at work being "productive". In confiding with acquaintances, I have found that the limit seems about two to three weeks of empathetic looks and "how are you doing"s before the evaporation of noticed concern. (Note, however, that friends and family are completely different and don't usually follow the unsaid time limits; therefore, they are not included in my observation here.)
In our culture, it seems subliminally asserted that once that last grain of sand drops through the hourglass and "the time" is up, no matter what grief and sadness remain in which we are covered or drowning, we are still expected to pull ourselves up and onto our feet, a smile is to light on our faces, and we are to look forward to the future, never looking back (or turn to salt). We are supposed to be alright, okay, not stuck, not defeated, for that's the only healthy way to be. And any lingering emotions should be kept private within our "back-to-normal" selves, or only discussed confidentially with a therapist. Okay, it's true that I am overly-emotional and sensitive, but is it just me or does this whole idea just seem inhuman?
So a couple of weekends ago, when I attended a retreat at a quaint little Dominican convent nestled just east of the beautiful Hudson River, with sunsets exquisite even in midst of winter with bare trees, brown ground, and ice floating near the riverbank, I was relieved to finally understand something different from what I have been taught. The retreat was called "From Loss to Community: Finding Hope in Difficult Times", and there I discovered something much more truthful and real.
Through the retreat's exercises and meditations with others who were also experiencing deep loss, I found that, ironically, sometimes one MUST be completely defeated, stretched out on the ground, limbs limp, eyes shut, tears flowing, heart broken, and breath heavy with uncontrollable sobbing, before one can really truly begin to rise from the weighty blow of sadness and grief of whatever the situation flattening one's life. Sometimes for a time, perhaps a very brief moment or a long span of rest, one must fall into the point of hopelessness, or rather, the point of simply hoping for hope, in order to discover that more hope really IS there; that hope has always been there shining. Sometimes, in the darkest of days, when all one can do is look up from the deep, muddy, black hole one finds himself in during life does one REALLY begin to see the sun and find within himself that he does believe that all is NOT lost; life is NOT over. This is something we, as society, should not deem trite or weak, nor should we put a limit on its length or depth. I believe we should embrace everyone's brokenness, allow the wounds to mend in their own time, and not revel in a kind of "get over it" mantra.
I have heard "get over it" a lot in my life. Most recently, it was tossed towards me as not only advice but also a command when I protested against the war, lost a friend to AIDS, then lost my best friend to his much-too-early death. "Get over it" was taught to be the way in which I would more easily move on, the way to succeed, win. Just get over it, don't think about it, and poof, it is gone, and you are on your way. But just "getting over it" does not allow me or anyone to move through the pain, experience the grief, understand suffering, mourn loss, and heal the soul at our own pace in our own time. Just "getting over it" negates any emotion we have, which is as just and true as any part of ourselves: our eyes, ears, hands, or feet.
Speaking personally with you, I honestly found God's blessing in my not "getting over" my mom's death. At my point of exhausted extinguishment which seemed so close, when my apathy constricted me breathless, when I couldn't really muster any care for myself other than in the asking of God to "Help me", it was there, in my complete and utter surrender and defeat that I finally found God's Help and Hope. I don't believe I would have recognized it any other way. At that retreat, which I believe was heavenly sent to me, beside the frosty, flowing river, I finally understood what hoping for hope means.
I think it's like when the suffering, bleeding and dying Jesus Christ was at His "end" on the cross and, probably feeling defeated and afraid, exclaimed and asked God, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" before He breathed His last earthly breath. During that moment, the human Jesus could only hope for hope.
And God certainly did not abandon Christ, nor will God ever abandon you and me. God is a God of new beginnings. Now I see . . . and hope.
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"When life descends into the pit, I must become my own candle, willingly burning myself to light up the darkness around me." - Alice Walker
"All we are asked to bear, we can bear. That is the law of spiritual life. The only hindrance to the working of this law, as of all benign laws, is fear." - Elizabeth Goudge
"When you are down to nothing, God is up to something." - Unknown
