“These words are so poignant because they aim right at the pathetic platitudes our culture has come to embody on a increasingly hopeless level. Losing a child cannot be fixed. Being diagnosed with a debilitating illness cannot be fixed. Facing the betrayal of your closest
confidante cannot be fixed.
They can only be carried.
I hate to break it to you, but although devastation can lead to growth, it often doesn’t. The reality is that it often destroys lives. And the real calamity is that this happens precisely because
we’ve replaced grieving with advice. With platitudes. With our absence.”
“Are there ways to find “healing” amidst devastation? Yes. Can one be “transformed” by the hell life thrusts upon them? Absolutely. But it does not happen if one is not permitted to grieve. Because grief itself is not an obstacle.
The obstacles come later.
The choices as to how to live; how to carry what we have lost; how to weave a new mosaic for ourselves? Those come in the wake of grief. It cannot be any other way.
Grief is woven into the fabric of the human experience. If it is not permitted to occur,
its absence pillages everything that remains: the fragile, vulnerable shell you might become in the face of catastrophe.
Yet our culture has treated grief as a problem to be solved, an illness to be healed, or both. In the process, we’ve done everything we can to avoid, ignore,
or transform grief. As a result, when you’re faced with tragedy you usually find that you’re no longer surrounded by people, you’re surrounded by platitudes.
What to Offer Instead
When a person is devastated by grief, the last thing they need is advice.
Their world has been shattered. This means that the act of inviting someone—anyone—into their world is an act of great risk. To try and fix or rationalize or wash away their pain only deepens their terror.
Instead, the most powerful thing you can do is acknowledge.
That is not for you to enact. But to stand with your loved one, to suffer with them, to listen to them, to do everything but something is incredibly powerful.
There is no greater act than acknowledgment. And acknowledgment requires no training, no special skills, no expertise.
It only requires the willingness to be present with a wounded soul, and to stay present, as long as is necessary.
Be there. Only be there. Do not leave when you feel uncomfortable or when you feel like you’re not doing anything. In fact, it is when you feel uncomfortable and like
you’re not doing anything that you must stay.
Because it is in those places—in the shadows of horror we rarely allow ourselves to enter—where the beginnings of healing are found. This healing is found when we have others who are willing to enter that space alongside us.
Every grieving person on earth needs these people.”
“This is why all the platitudes and fixes and posturing are so dangerous: in unleashing them upon those we claim to love, we deny them the right to grieve.
In so doing, we deny them the right to be human. We steal a bit of their freedom precisely when
precisely when they’re standing at the intersection of their greatest fragility and despair.
No one—and I mean no one—has that authority. Though we claim it all the time.
The irony is that the only thing that even can be “responsible” amidst loss is grieving.
So if anyone tells you some form of get over it, move on, or rise above, you can let them go.
If anyone avoids you amidst loss, or pretends like it didn’t happen, or disappears from your life, you can let them go.
If anyone tells you that all is not lost, that it happened for a reason, that you’ll become better as a result of your grief, you can let them go.
Let me reiterate: all of those platitudes are bullshit.
You are not responsible to those who try to shove them down your throat.
You can let them go.
I’m not saying you should. That is up to you, and only up to you. It isn’t an easy decision to make and should be made carefully. But I want you to understand that you can.””
“Because understanding is harder than posturing. Telling someone to “take responsibility” for their loss is a form of benevolent masturbation. It’s the inverse of inspirational porn: it’s sanctimonious porn.
Personal responsibility implies that there’s
something to take responsibility for. You don’t take responsibility for being raped or losing your child. You take responsibility for how you choose to live in the wake of the horrors that confront you, but you don’t choose whether you grieve. We’re not that smart or powerful.
When hell visits us, we don’t get to escape grieving. This is why all the platitudes and fixes and posturing are so dangerous: in unleashing them upon those we claim to love, we deny them the right to grieve.”shrinkrap.co.za/psychotherapy/…
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Welcome. Great and noble Covidians. Its reminded that our faith must not be tempted by the sullying threat of mockery or by the scourge that is humor, blasphemy or questioning of The Doctrine. A’rona!
(A’rona with you)
Believers. We do not gather today to renew our commitment and allegiance as Covidians.
Ya think painters with a grudge are bad? Now imagine someone like him with a talent for language instead of landscapes.
“COMBAT LIBERALISM
September 7, 1937 - MAO
We stand for active ideological struggle because it is the weapon for ensuring unity within the Party and the revolutionary organizations in the interest of our fight. Every Communist and revolutionary should take up this weapon.
Tom Stoppard…he better not leave anytime soon. I can’t imagine this world being mended without him.
My first apartment was once Leonard Bernstein’s. In that video early on he plays his Candide. I use to say that I could look out my window in that place and see and feel that music. It was amazing.
Now my doorman from then called me to tell me the mandate means he has to leave.
Imagine. At least 25 years there. On the street that once inspired NYers that touched the world…he has to leave, or….
Maybe where my aunt first heard it. She was a librarian.
In the original story Gallico wrote Frith and Rhyander has made a life together. But readers didn’t take to it; not because it was uncouth but because he had a hunch back. Gallico said this would
Every Christmas my aunt, Claire would read The Snow Goose by Paul Gallico
She and her husband Stanley were a lovely couple and when she died I felt both grief and relief because she was very lonely without him. We became close after his death and she spent time here in my apartment with me.
She is the only family member that ever has. And I suddenly remembered her with deep fondness. So shortly I’ll read this aloud in a space. I don’t think I’m up for talking about it. But…this is one ritual/tradition/fond memory I can do. Aunt Claire…always the librarian.