I read the “grief” article that was circling a while back. It’s popped up in my reader a lot since it came out. Mostly people feel very validated hearing that the complicated range of emotions are, at least partially, rooted in grief. Naming an experience definitely helps us manage it. When I first read it I mostly nodded along, appreciating a way to better understand what I was feeling.
The loss of normalcy; the fear of economic toll; the loss of connection. This is hitting us and we’re grieving. Collectively. We are not used to this kind of collective grief in the air.
That Discomfort You’re Feeling Is Grief, Havard Business Review
Almost immediately I read a different response to the article, and I have to admit, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. This response felt the article cheapened the very real, very deep experience of true grief and suggested that the reasons Americans are suffering so greatly is due to the expectation of freedom and prosperity that we have is so prevalent in this country of such wealth and political stability.
They do it because it’s easy and because grief, like pain and suffering, is considered noble. You’re not a hyperventilating hot mess, frazzled from too much time at home with the kids in between videoconference meetings, pouting because your fun that involves travel or socializing has been postponed indefinitely. No, you are feeling “anticipatory grief.” Gimme a fuckin’ break.
Lovecraftian Times, Xykademiqx
I’m still not sure how I feel about the whole thing. On the one hand, I do believe that what many people are experiencing is a form of grief. On the other hand I also believe that many Americans (surely the intended audience of that particular article – and definitely me) have come to expect that life will look the way they want (or at least expect) it to look, because they have lived relatively sheltered lives in our wealthy, stable country.
We have never, as a nation, suffered a common natural disaster. We haven’t fought a foreign entity in a war on our soil since the Revolutionary War (which doesn’t really count). We’ve experienced very limited acts of terrorism within our borders. Our government has never been overthrown by our military. Our society was built on the tenants of personal freedom, even at the expense of others. Sacrificing for the greater good is a decidedly not a fixture of our cultural norms. It makes me wonder, does the segment of our society that the “grief” article was meant to console (again, definitely me included) lack the grit and resilience necessary to get through a challenging time without naming our difficult emotions as grief? Is grief really the right word or is bewilderment, as Xykademiqx names it, a more appropriate word.
What you’re feeling isn’t grief. Please, don’t cheapen grief. It’s bewilderment in the face of the unknown because you’ve spent your whole life able to count on stability and prosperity. But that’s not a feature of most societies, and even when it is, it’s never for more than a few uninterrupted decades.
Lovecraftian Times, Xykademiqx
I’m really not sure what the answer is. I don’t disagree with either article, and I’m still trying to figure out where I stand (which I recognize will probably be what best serves me and my immediate needs). I’m really curious what your take is on these two differing views.
Do you believe what we’re feeling about the upending of our lives is grief? Or do you believe calling it grief is inappropriate, and cheapens the word?
Losing my uncle last week is grief. Losing my 20th anniversary trip this summer is disappointment. The feeling of not being confident in the future of our country like I used to be is anxiety.
I don’t know. But I have been catching myself a lot and thinking about the second thing. As in when I start to ponder things like what if school doesn’t start this fall? What if there’s no one to pick produce and we don’t have any? Then I think about war torn places like Syria, former Communist countries (one of which my dad escaped!) and feel like a privileged buffoon.
Not to your topic directly but when Polly Madison was first lady and the British were setting fires in Washington I think she would have disagreed with you about not having fought a foreign nation on our land since the revolutionary war.
HOWEVER, you are correct about our not having much experience with wars fought on our ground in a very long time.
I would say grief comes in many forms for many reasons and differently for different people at different ages and stages of life. Judging or labeling or restricting labels to only certain situations is not helpful. Can it be true grief for an uncle but not for a close friend, for a beloved spouse but not for a beloved pet. What about grief for a grandparent you never met in person versus one who raised you with love versus an abusive parent. What about grief for lose of a homeland, loss of your dwelling, grief of a refugee is a huge mixture of losses including a loss of dreams of the future. Who makes the rules? I think there is a LOT of GREY and no one ought to decide for another. But being gentle to ourselves and others is always more generous and kinder …. and more compassionate.
I doubt Xykademiqx is arguing that loss of any life is not grief for the person experiencing it, not to put words in her mouth. She is reacting to the idea that any small negative future change or increases in future uncertainty is “anticipatory grief”. We have better words.
I must confess that I didn’t read the second article (even though you linked to it), so take my comment with that caveat in mind. Under the current circumstances, I certainly feel frustrated, anxious and overwhelmed, but I don’t know that I would label my feelings “grief.”
I lost my father suddenly a year ago in January, and I experienced – still experience – grief related to his loss. That feeling was different, and worse, from the way I’m feeling now.
I experienced what I would call “anticipatory grief” during my struggles with infertility, when I thought I would never be a parent. That feeling was also different and worse than my current feelings.
Not to clog up the discussion in this, although evidently I’m doing that, @Sharon, I think that’s what really struck me about the phrase “anticipatory grief”— that is exactly what infertility made me feel. My situation now is nothing like that. I cannot compare now to that dark time or the very real grief of anybody losing a loved one (which hit home harder for me last week now that my husband’s family and I have both lost family members).
I am sorry for the loss of your father.