Hidden Grief

The start of week 4 of social distancing and even for an introvert like me, this is getting old. After days of staying home, limiting how often I leave my house, being grateful for what I have, thoroughly cleaning my house, completing neglected projects, after telling myself “This is only temporary,” my optimism has run out of steam. I found myself lacking my usual motivation to do things I normally do: getting up early, meditating, keeping up on the dishes and housework, or working on my art and writing.

This waning motivation puzzled me because I am more fortunate than others during this pandemic. I still have work and my coaching to keep me busy during the day. My family and I are in good health. I have not lost a loved one to this virus. Yet, during idle times in the evenings and on the weekends a heaviness would set in. I felt a sadness and sense of hopelessness, not knowing what will happen in the coming weeks and not knowing when this current state of isolation would end.

I sat with my sadness and realized that, unbeknownst to me, I was grieving. I was grieving for the loss of everything I hold dear: being with friends, moving freely where and when I wanted to, eating at a restaurant, dancing, going on hikes with groups, and giving and receiving hugs. I was grieving for having lost some sense of control over my life.

Once I became aware of this hidden grief, I invited it to the surface, and let the tears flow. After a few moments and deep breaths, I felt the heaviness lift and a wave of relieve. I then was able to set out small tasks for myself that needed to get done and would make me feel better having done them: making some HeArt Postcards, spending time in my garden, talking with friends, and sweeping the floors.

By the end of the day I felt much better and had regain some hope. This doesn’t mean that I have finished grieving or will not fall back into those dark feelings again, but I was relieved to have a better understanding around the heaviness I felt and my lack of motivation lately.

Others have shared with me that they are not motivated to do their creative work. I suspect that they too are burdened by this hidden grief. We as individuals, as communities, as a nation, have gone through radical changes in our daily lives, and there may be more to come. It would be helpful to acknowledge this fact, to recognize the hidden grief we are holding because of these changes, and to find ways to process our grief. It could be in simple ceremonies, like lighting a candle, saying a prayer, writing a letter to your grief, or having a wake for all that you have lost (if only temporary).  These simple acts may be a small respite for our spirits during these challenging times.