Todo Cambia
Everything changes. This is the title and refrain of a beloved Chilean song of exile: an emblem of optimism. The song has served as a touchstone during political unrest and cultural upheavals all over the world. It reminds us of impermanence and gives us hope when things seem to be falling apart around us.
Traveling Companions
Hope and grief live side by side. During this incredible time, we grieve for the loss of innocence; our former lives are no longer retrievable and the future hasn’t yet come into focus. We grieve for those who have died and those left behind; we grieve for livelihoods lost and dreams aborted. We grieve for the illusions we held of social justice and equity. We grieve for a crumbling democracy.
And with all the grief we hold, we somehow manage to be hopeful. Hope is the only salve for our grief. Without hope, our despair would be unmanageable. Hope is a double-edged sword, however. Although we need to be hopeful, we must detach from specific outcomes. Training ourselves to incorporate different results, different realities, is possible.
I read about a woman whose mother was diagnosed with stage IV cancer; the prognosis was bleak. The oncologist predicted the mother had less than a year to live. The daughter never gave up hope that her mother would outlive the predictions and recover. Unfortunately, the daughter did not prepare herself for any other outcome. When her mother died, she was devastated.
I also know of a man who received a late-stage cancer diagnosis with a prognosis of surviving only eight months. He lived for many years. Regardless of the absence or presence of hope, prognoses can change in one direction or another.
With death and loss, grief is inevitable whether we prepare ourselves or not. Allowing for different outcomes, however, can protect us from total devastation.
I am hopeful that effective therapeutics and a proven vaccine for Covid-19 will be developed in time. I am also allowing for that to take longer than expected. I am hopeful that our democracy will be restored after the November election; I am also entertaining the possibility of four more years of chaos and continuing upheaval.
Undoing Despair
Like many of us, I did not prepare for other possibilities on November 8, 2016. I even purchased a blue pantsuit for Hillary’s victory party. The loss was a huge blow–for months, I walked around in a fog. The fog of despair can be so dense that it paralyzes.
Despair is a drag. As Dr. Seuss said, “When you're in a slump, you're not in for much fun. Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.” But unslumping we must. Change doesn’t happen under the weight of despair.
Despondency, depression and despair are no strangers to me. I’ve often quipped that staying positive is my full-time job. What I know is that when the blanket of despair envelopes me, the only thing to do is get up a do something, anything.
Just Do
Long before Nike adopted the slogan, Just Do It, the Roman lyric poet, Horace, wrote: Don’t think, just do. Taking action is a powerful antidote to despair and depression. The action need not be big or grand.
The small steps toward unslumping yourself can be as simple as reaching out to a friend, attending a meaningful online meeting, or preparing extra food for a neighbor. I know a man who is coping with his late-stage cancer by cooking food for others.
Some people are unslumping themselves by writing political postcards. Often, we get mired in diminishing our efforts; our contributions seem too insignificant to matter. When I write my blog posts, I hope that at least one person (other than me) finds something useful for him or herself.
Sometimes we do have to put the cart before the horse. Just doing something helps lift the fog.
Look for the Helpers
Fred Rogers’ well-known advice of looking for the helpers is more important now than ever. Focusing one’s energy on those who are attempting to improve conditions, rather than those acting out their fears, will uplift our spirits.
Like watching a train wreck, viewing videos of those behaving badly is alluring; ultimately, however, this leads us down the path of despair. Finding good news isn’t always easy; those doing good works aren’t usually in the headlines. The helpers are doing their charity in quiet ways—they may be working in health care, delivering packages, stocking shelves, grocery shopping for neighbors, hosting webinars, or simply respecting physical distance.
Everything changes. We will not always be in a pandemic and we will not always be under the rule of incompetent and dangerous leadership. Turning back the clock is fantasy. Some of the wholesome elements of our past lives may disappear; but hopefully, the noxious elements of our society will gradually fade into oblivion.