it doesn't matter more
but it matters
I have a writing group that since Covid has turned into more of group therapy instead of actually writing. We have an ongoing Voxer group chat, so you hear what the other person says in its entirety before you get to respond. Two of the women expressed some very real frustrations with their current situations, but then at the end tried to walk it back, rationalizing that they really have so much to be grateful for and why their situations aren’t nearly as bad as other people’s. Had we been talking live, I would have interjected and said: “don’t do that, feel what you’re feeling without rationalizing it away.”
And then, last week I read two of the best things I’ve read about the state of things via Anne Helen Peterson and one of my yoga teachers, Jennifer O’Sullivan. They both talked about the grief that we’re collectively experiencing right now and the dangers of “shoulding” ourselves to death about how we should or shouldn’t be feeling (which I originally wrote about here).
Jennifer’s email is for subscribers only (subscribe here), but this part really hit me:
I have another part that doesn't think I have a right to grieve when so many other people are going through much worse. I think this is a burden I've absorbed from an American culture that places high value on toughing things out or just plain getting over it. You have to be living in a Shakespearian tragedy, it seems, for it to be OK to be sad.
But that's not how the heart works. There is no such thing as "first world problems." There are just problems, and every human has the right to their full array of feelings about whatever is going on in their life. And anyway, our nervous system doesn't know the difference between small and big events. The feelings are the same and they need space to be fully present and felt.
I stole the title of this newsletter from Anne Helen’s newsletter - she lists all of the different ways that Covid is disproportionately impacting the already poor and marginalized segments of our communities, but then she reminds us that:
Whatever grief you are feeling, whether related to COVID or otherwise, whether anticipatory or existential, whether related to your own health or the world’s or your community’s — it matters. It doesn’t matter more, but it matters. And that means we have to continue to find words for it, continue to allow it to shape our lives, continue to allow it to piss us off. If you can’t face the depths of it in this moment, that’s okay. But again: grief doesn’t go away when ignored. It blackens and sours. It turns us away from others instead of towards them.
I loved that clarification and the invitation to honor what we’re feeling - without the need to compare it to anyone else. Jasper got in trouble for something over the weekend, and as we were talking about it afterwards, he tried to rationalize his bad decision by starting a sentence with “but all of the other kids at school blah blah blah…” I told him that he will make himself miserable comparing himself to others and that the sooner he learns that, the better, happier human he’ll be. As I was talking to him, I realized that this propensity to inwardly rank our grief during these strange times only exacerbates our own suffering, just like’s Jasper’s comparisons to what the other kids get to do that he doesn’t.
I need to focus on feeling my feelings, processing through them, doing my work, reminding myself, as Jennifer said, that the heart doesn’t rank the difference between first-world problems and whatever the opposite of that would be. Having perspective is good, yes, but only so long as I’m first giving myself space to feel the anger or grief or sadness or joy or whatever else is coming up.
P.S. The best way I know how to do this is with a journal and yin yoga.
Quotable
“Rather than letting our negativity get the better of us, we could acknowledge that right now we feel like a piece of shit and not squeamish about taking a good look.” Pema Chodron
Worth sharing this week
This had me thinking about what are some power moves that I can incorporate into my days. What are yours? (so I can steal them!)
Did you know that, if you find yourself getting snippy or more annoyed than normal that it’s a common sign of anxiety? I didn’t until about five years ago, but it is how anxiety most frequently shows up for me. Anxiety is in the air right now, as we live through a global pandemic, racial reckoning, crisis of leadership, and another recession. I found this podcast episode super helpful to remind me of some practical ways to turn the irritability train around.
As I mentioned here, I have been trying to double-down on my self-care because of [waves her arms wildly in the air] the state of things with no let up in sight (until a peaceful transition of power, please God and the Universe), but this really made me think about how we frame - even to ourselves - self-care for mothers: “Cleaning your house without kids is not a break. Showering is not a break. Grocery shopping alone is not a break. It's chores and basic hygiene but mothers are supposed to be grateful to do these things that literally everyone else just does. And at some point, we just break…”
Seasonal pic of the week
Cheers to feeling your feelings and the smell of fall leaves,
Sara