Today I was writing a note of support to my clients: As our time of social isolation draws on, I continue to hold you in my thoughts.
As I hear myself say that phrase, I think of how anyone familiar with grief learns what it means to hold someone in their thoughts, what it means to be achingly separate yet deeply connected. It can take a long time to feel this enduring, sustaining connection or it can happen in an instant, unbidden -- a moment of remembrance that breaks the heart and fills the heart at the same time.
This is something our grief-resistant culture is confronting right now as we are separated from people and activities we cherish. There is a lot of societal attention to how people are reaching out in novel ways to stay connected -- but I want to take a moment to reflect on how we are "reaching in" for what sustains and connects us. How we are not just "human doings" but "human beings." How we can find, even in the midst of loss and uncertainty, the wellspring within. How we can tune in to what we love, what we know, what is most important to us. And learn to let that "being" guide our "doing."
One of my favorite reminders for this is to take the very American phrase "Don't just stand there, do something!" and turn it on its head: " Don't just do something, stand there." It may not seem like much in a world that needs so much, where the suffering around us tugs at us to take action -- to "do" something. It is easy to feel guilty and helpless when there is little we can actually do, easy to feel hopeless when we begin to run out of things to do. But reaching in for what endures, for what sustains and guides us, is a necessary and vital part of moving forward through loss and adversity. Cultivating our “being” is the foundation for truly helping others who are suffering in this pandemic.
Because of my work with those in grief, I know you know how to do this. I know that, in the midst of pain and struggle, you have the ability to find that sustaining place within you where you connect to YOUR profound wisdom, certainty, love, gratitude, and even laughter. Where you can meet the compelling urge to “do” with the gentle and self-nurturing decision to “be” for a few moments. And then, hopefully, for a few moments longer…
I encourage you to know, truly know, that your "being" is as important as your "doing" -- whatever that looks like today, tomorrow, and onward through this challenging time.