On Grieving, Racism and COVID-19

We Are Grieving

Massage therapists, like so many of our fellow humans around the world, are grieving.

For some among us, grief is familiar territory.

Yet, the circumstances we find ourselves in now – grieving the COVID-19 pandemic as well as the recent murder of George Floyd, an unarmed Black man, by police– may be unlike any we may have found ourselves in before.

There is so much collective pain, so much simultaneous suffering.

For some among us, all of this grieving is a bewildering new experience.  The emotional and physical roller coaster of grief may have taken our breath away, with its ferocity, intensity and unpredictability.

We are each feeling our own personal losses and our own personal experiences, right along with all of the collective losses and grief of our communities, our nation, and the world.

And, it’s hard. It hurts. It’s scary.

Grief in These Times

Some among us have experienced the death of acquaintances, friends or loved ones due to COVID-19. This is grief.

Some among us are living with the fear that oneself or a vulnerable loved one will eventually contract the virus and may die as a result. This is grief.

Some among us have lost loved ones to racism, violence, or police brutality. This is grief.

Others among us live with the fear that oneself or a loved one will eventually encounter racism, violence, or police brutality and may die as a result. In a society that often denies that racism still exists, this grief can be minimized, ignored and disenfranchised. And. This is grief.

Some among us have lost clients to COVID-19. Some of our clients may have died as a result of the virus while other clients no longer feel safe seeking massage therapy due to the virus. This is all grief.

Some among us have lost our jobs, our businesses, our ability to do the work we love. Whether that loss is permanent, or temporary, the experience is still grief.

Some among us have taken jobs as front line workers. Some among us have loved ones who are front line workers- whose jobs carry an inherent risk that prevents them from staying safe at home. And worrying about these health risks, for oneself or for loved ones, this is grief.

Many among us have lost the ability to feel safe leaving our homes and doing the most ordinary of things: grocery shopping, eating at restaurants, gathering with friends and family due to the virus. This is grief.

Some among us, have long lived with the terror of feeling unsafe leaving home and doing the most ordinary of things- due to racism, violence and police brutality. These times may be reopening those wounds, bringing long established grief and trauma to the surface. Again, in a society that often denies that racism still exists, this grief can be minimized, ignored and disenfranchised. And. This is grief.

Mourning and Being Willing to Mourn

Grief is a topic that is often avoided in our society. Racism is too.

And, now both grief and awareness of racism are rising up – massive, painful parts of our collective experience that cannot and should not be ignored.

Being human is not easy. Acknowledging grief and holding space for it (our own grief as well as the grief of others) is hard.

Mourning the impact of the virus can feel both personal and collective.

Each of us as massage therapists have surely been impacted – but it’s likely to have impacted each among us in so many different ways. Some among us have lost everything, while others among us have been somewhat insulated or protected from devastation.

Mourning the death of George Floyd, and the pain of racism, may not feel as personal or as collective to all of us.

Some among us, have privilege and power that provide the option of looking away, at least from some of what is happening.

Yet, some among us do not have the luxury of looking away from all that is happening.

Personally, as a white woman who is aware of the unearned privilege our society has granted me, I beg fellow white massage therapists, especially those who feel called to serve grieving clients, please do not look away.

Mourning the violence and pain caused by racism is not easy.

For those among us with white privilege, it may feel optional to listen, learn, look, and allow oneself to feel the grief that results from racism.

While for those among us who have lived with the pain and grief of racism for so long, it is not optional.

And, recent events like the murder of George Floyd can add to a long list of traumatic reminders of the personal losses and harms that racism has caused.

Grief is not limited to pandemics, divorces, pet loss, car accidents or terminal illness.

Grief and pain also result from injustice, racism, violence, and societal systems that degrade and oppress human beings.

As grief writer and advocate Megan Devine recently shared, “We cannot advocate for a revolution in how we come to pain if we are not willing to look at the pain and suffering atop pain and suffering of BIPOC.”

To read Megan Devine’s entire article, “Black Lives Matter: Grief in Communities of Color” click here.

Broken Hearts Can Be Open Hearts

As we all sit with the grief and pain that has unfolded in our world, is it possible that we can allow our hearts to break in new places?

May our broken hearts break fully open, into awareness and compassion?

May we, especially those of among us with privilege and options, soften rather than harden?

May we expand outward rather than closing down?

May we be curious instead of prescriptive?

We as a collective of grief focused massage therapists – especially those among us who have privilege and power and options- are being challenged to simultaneously tend to our own losses while bearing witness and holding space for the grief and pain of others.

We are all being called to mourn for the deaths and uninvited changes and misfortunes that have come our own way due to the virus, while also honoring the hard impacts that the virus has had on others.

And at the same time, we are being asked to not just grieve for the impacts of the virus, for we are also being called to mourn the impacts of racism, violence, and police brutality.

If it feels optional to look away from the murder of George Floyd and the pain that has spilled out into the streets, please understand that it is privilege and power that allows it to feel optional.

And for those of us with white privilege, it is especially important that we are willing to see, willing to listen and willing to mourn.

Our hearts are broken in so many ways.

And still, I encourage you to look. To see. To be willing to listen and learn.

Next Steps: Surfing the Waves, Self-Care and Seeking to Learn

Grief comes in waves. If life has felt like an emotional roller coaster lately, it’s probably grief.

I believe that it’s important to ride the waves of grief with as much grace and courage as we possibly can, trusting that the pain will ebb and flow in a way that is survivable.

When we are in the middle of a grief contraction – an intense experience of pain – perhaps we can simply allow ourselves to surrender to it. To feel it, rather than fighting against it or stiffening up in protest.

When we are in a moment of expansion – when we can somehow breathe easier and things feel lighter – perhaps we can use that time to catch our collective breath and tend to our very real physical needs.

Grief is physical.

The stress and strain of mourning has very real impacts on how we sleep, digest our food, and feel in our bodies.

And, in the midst of all of the suffering and pain of this time in our collective history, it is important to tend to our physical selves.

A deep breath, giving yourself a hug, wrapping up in a heavy blanket, drinking hot tea, looking up at the starry night sky, soaking in the bathtub, taking a cool shower, riding a bicycle or walking in nature…simple acts of physicality can be like soul medicine in grief.

Our physical nurturing of our own selves can be what anchors us as we surf the unpredictable waves of grief – especially in these times.

Tending to ourselves with compassion can be an important part of finding and holding the courage to look, listen, feel and mourn.

But, looking, listening, feeling and mourning are just first steps.

When it comes to healing – and especially when it comes to acknowledging and addressing racism- there is so much more work to be done.

In her article, “Black Lives Matter: Grief in Communities of Color”, Megan Devine offered encouragement to us all to support businesses owned by BIPOC, to support agencies working to make changes, and “if you are white, educate yourself on the ways systemic racism runs as a thread through your life even if you are committed to inclusion and justice.”

When it comes to education on racism, it is certainly not my place or my role to speak for the experiences of black and indigenous people of color (BIPOC).

I am aware of the privilege that my skin color has given me, and that my role is to listen and learn from the lived experiences of BIPOC.

So, I strongly encourage each of you to continue to (or begin to) learn about racism from teachers who have actual lived experiences of racism.

Some resources I am currently exploring around racism, privilege and how to be anti-racist:

Rachel Cargle: An academic, lecturer and writer focused on race and womanhood. You can reach her website by clicking here.

Ibram Kendi: A professor of history and international relations and author focused on antiracism. You can reach his website by clicking here.

May this unforgettable time be one in which we do allow our hearts to break open.

A time when we soften, and expand, and learn.

References

Devine, M. (2020). Black lives matter: Grief in communities of color. Online: https://refugeingrief.com/2020/05/30/black-lives-matter-grief-in-communities-of-color/