Open to the Spirit
Today’s word: Grief
and every one of you.
) Human emotions are so complicated. Last week I was feeling the loss of so many of the social groups I usually am a part of. It occurred to me that loss leads to grief, and that insight helped me understand what I was going through. The tragic events of the weekend in Nova Scotia gave my self-absorbed thoughts some perspective. Whatever I was feeling, it certainly pales in comparison to the painful grief felt by so many in that small Nova Scotia town. This was compounded by the first few days where people were not even sure who had died, and who had survived. As Canadians we usually pride ourselves that events like this only happen in the nation to the south of us. Our egotistical balloon has burst, and it seems the entire nation is going through grief.
Since social isolation I have postponed funerals, and many families face unknown timelines for spring burials. Many people who have lost loved ones are also forced to mourn alone. Someone once shared 5 stages of grief: denial, anger, depression, bargaining and finally acceptance. I find these helpful. It is certainly important to talk through your feelings with someone close to you.
The author of the Narnia tales, C.S. Lewis, once wrote “No one has ever told me that grief felt so much like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid.” Those honest words began his memoir; “A Grief Observed”, written after the death of his wife. He is one of my favourites, and he was so courageous in sharing his very real pain. In conversations this week I have heard fear, as people ponder whether such violence could occur locally in our communities. I have also heard and felt tremendous empathy for the victims. Grief is a universal experience. We do, however, go through it in our own unique ways. My thoughts are with you.
) Jewish practices of mourning are never rushed. After the initial shock of someone’s death, the most important first step is to complete the burial as soon as possible so that the family can move on to the formal process of mourning. Then the slow and intentional process begins. First there is a week of shiva, of gatherings and rituals to allow the mourners to reflect on the intense feelings that accompany this time, and to receive support from the community. Then there is a month of “adapted” mourning where the family can take small steps back into normal life, such as working and socializing again. And finally it takes a full year for the process to officially take its next step, guided by communal recognition of the dead and by saying a special prayer in memory. While this process is never easy, the initial grief and shock is above all accepted and delicately held by the individual and the community. There is space to heal, opportunities for gathering and for solitude, and above all the recognition that mourning takes time. Sadness needs space to fully understand, but finding hope and healing is something that also can’t be rushed.
We are living through a time of communal grief and mourning. We are not necessarily dealing with the death of a loved one, but we are still devastated and in pain. Our lives have been uprooted, our sense of self and our place in the world has been disrupted, and so many of us worry each day about our health and the health of our loved ones. Death and suffering is more real now than ever, and we hope that those who are providing the healing—the doctors, nurses, and first responders, remain safe and strong.
But like grief itself, it is best not to rush into the next stages of this long process. As we know, we have to wait more for our world to get back to normal, and moving too fast will only hurt us in the long run. During this time, let us gather the support we need and let’s make sure that we remain sensitive to not only the needs of others but to ourselves. Like a person in mourning, we need to accept that we are changed people, our emotions and actions may be in disarray and our relationships may have suffered.
As a community we need to continue to self isolate and follow all the necessary precautions so things don’t get worse, but even more we need to give ourselves the time to accept, to mourn and to heal. This crisis may not be over for a while, but if we are sensitive to our needs and the needs of others, we may be even stronger when that time finally comes to once again step back into life. ) “Good grief!” was a favourite phrase of Charlie Brown in the beloved comic strip by Charles Schultz. But on my shelf I have a small book by that same title I consult often for its timeless wisdom, reminding me of the many dimensions of growth grief affords if we but choose to go beyond denial, come face to face with our losses and embrace whole-heartedly the many layers and levels of our sorrow.
Good grief is the kind we humans in this entire country and indeed worldwide experience together as we share the shock and mourn this past week with so many families the loss of loved ones in the recent NS tragedy. Good grief connects us and turns us toward each other to offer casseroles and loving comfort in times of loss. Good grief reminds us in our pain of why we love at all, and what we value most about those who are no longer - or are still - with us. Good grief means leaning into all the chaotic stages, and in the process, allowing it to widen our range of feeling, open our hearts in empathy to all in the human family whose suffering is akin to and intricately interwoven with our own.
In grief we’re thrown off kilter, and everything comes under review. We become acutely aware of how blessed we are to even be here at all, to share this life with so many others, none of whom are here forever. And that is true of all that is.
This past week we celebrated Earth Day’s 50th birthday. Along with pandemic-related losses, the “state of the Earth” addresses from multiple informed directions has overwhelmed me with grief for our suffering Earth. Sending me back to the wisdom of poets and mystics whose words of beauty comfort but also caution not to turn away from the truth or deny our losses. Eco-grief is grief on a mega-scale we must turn and face, and from it awaken to a new awareness of all that is fleeting and most precious. How fragile like a crocus coming out of the ground and worthy of our wonder and infinite care is all that is here. I wish for us all the “good grief” that moves beyond loss into a renewal of gratitude and protective love for this life on Earth we share.
One word, four voices - and always, we turn it over to you: How do you work through your own grief, for past losses and now in this time of new loss multiplied?
Rev. Mead Baldwin pastors the Waterville & North Hatley pastoral charge; Rabbi Boris Dolin leads the Dorshei-emet community in Montreal; Rev. Lee Ann Hogle ministers to the Ayer’s Cliff, Magog & Georgeville United Churches; Rev. Carole Martignacco, Unitarian Universalist is retired from ministry with Uuestrie and now resides in St. Andrews bythe-sea NB, but keeps one foot in the Townships by continuing with this column.