Marcus column: I think we are grieving

No, I am pretty damn sure about it. We are definitely grieving; ricocheting somewhere among the stages of Denial, Anger, Bargaining, and Depression. I know we are not yet at Acceptance — but I hope we are working on it.

There are logical reasons for our grief — as contrary as the words “logic” and “grief” appear to be.

Although Sol is starting to re-emerge and life appears (being the operative word) to be returning to “normal,” there are miles before we sleep. We must also accept we will never return to what was before. Yes, we are closer to the end of this nightmarish pandemic than we are to its beginning but there is rational doubt (another oxymoronic phrase) that we are not as far through this painful chapter as we’d like to think we are. We can remove masks and gather in larger groups, but the fear, pain, sadness, and anger that has held firm our head underwater, causing us to fight for air, struggling to accept, do not simply dissipate because sunlight begins again to peek through the gray.

We are grieving over what has — and is — happening to our country. We are witness to the emergence of long-festering scars, glossed over — even denied — for decades, now shattering through to be coarsely exposed. We bemoan the sense of commonality and decency of which we felt we had more often; distraught that it might have been a mirage now evaporated in the desert heat.

We are fearful about what is happening to Ghia, our dear, life-giving Mother Earth, who is as alive as are we. She will survive but, in the same fashion that we flick an ant from the kitchen countertop, might soon send us tumbling head over hind end, weary of the disease we inflict upon her. We mourn for future generations who will not know the calm breezes and lukewarm nights we have experienced.

We are anguished over Richter-scale changes sweeping through the fabric of our economy. At the core, a flickering of optimism is taking root, but the emotional impact, fragility, and uncertainty of so many thrown from their livelihoods will never be forgotten. We hurt for freedom from worry that we never truly possessed.

Then, there’s the 800-pound gorilla in the middle of the living room: COVID. We have laid witness to the greatest assault on our mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual wellbeing since our great grandparents played in sandboxes in seemingly idyllic small towns. Millions upon millions have died. Countless more have been upended and wrecked. We exist in a topsy-turvy, down-is-up, up-is-down, black-is-white, white-is-black world where science and medicine are discounted by so many, while flim-flam men peddling snake oils and conspiracy theories are put on pedestals.

We are inconsolable over the realization that the control we thought was our birthright never actually existed. It’s been an arduous age — and we’re still not through it. So, yes, damnit, we are grieving. We are angry, we feel powerless and lost. Quoting the famous movie line from Network, “We’re mad as hell and we’re not going to take it anymore.”

Grief cannot be overcome; it must be tolerated, understood, even welcomed, so that it may move on. Its scars never heal, instead, leaving in their wake a new hardened — yet wiser — version of what was, its impact forever a cornerstone of the new us. To deny grief and sadness only delays the healing.

To that end, we must remember that time heals all. Patience and acceptance, not our strong suit, are what is now needed. We must surrender to the unyielding power of time. Hopefully, from that, we will emerge a more tolerant, nurturing, understanding society.

There is no situation — none — where adding in more love and kindness will make it worse. It’s as impossible as darkness and light occupying the same spot.

To overcome the grief, therefore, we must call on more kindness, compassion, and love toward each other, not less. It is imperative that as we rise, we pull up those behind us, a never-ending, rising, aspirational chain of compassion and support without beginning nor end. No one is to be left behind.

When fear rises, counter it with compassion. When anger makes known its face, embrace it with understanding and awareness, conscious that it tries to protect, but instead isolates. In the dark, lonely spaces we visit when all appears lost, inhale deeply and upon breathing out, welcome in empathy, nurturing, and self-love; with the understanding that we’re all doing the best we know how to do. There is no road map for where we are.

We are grieving. We are angry. We are confused. But, we are also healing and growing, most surely moving gradually in that better direction. We push yet closer every day.

About the author: Scott “Q” Marcus is a professional speaker, motivator, and the founder of the Facebook group: Intentions • Affirmations • Manifestations. He leads no-payment-required zoom inspirational, practical workshops on the first and third Tuesday of each month. Find out more via his mailing list at www.thistimeimeanit. com/signup