- Mourning is a universal human need.
- Mourning is not synonymous with pain, which is not synonymous with suffering. Pain of various types is an inescapable aspect of human existence. Our unskillful responses to pain create and increase our suffering. Mourning is a skillful response to pain—a way of being empathetic to ourselves and expanding our ability to be compassionate with ourselves and others.
- Once I was asked, “What is mourning?” [ref]My NVC training thus far has included a practice form called Needs Meditation, in which a dyad explores what the needs mean to them. One person asks “What is [need word]?,” allowing the other to speak to this need until complete. When the speaker is complete, he then poses the same question, often with a different needs word filled in, to the original asker. This pattern continues, back and forth, until some time limit is reached.[/ref] My answer at that time, which still rings true, was something like: Mourning is when you notice some part of you crying out in pain like an inconsolable baby, and you turn toward that part of yourself with great care, pick it up, enfold it in your arms, and simply lovingly hold it, allowing it to be without asking it to change or explain itself, until there’s a break in the crying.
- Our culture in general does not encourage or make any space for mourning.Most people I know were taught very early on to react to their own pain with other strategies including, but not limited to:
- Numbing
- Dissociation
- Denial
- Blaming
- Lashing out
- Distraction
These types of strategies transmute pain into suffering, while the underlying un-mourned pain continues to cry out inconsolably even as we do our best to shut it out and muffle it.
When one imagines the volume of the un-mourned pains of even a short lifetime crying out, our culture’s problems with addiction, consumption, violence, depression, and wanting endless external entertainment/engagement makes a lot of sense. Facing the abyss of inconsolable babies screaming out is daunting, and that is an understatement.
- Pain is caused by a wound—physical, mental, or emotional. Most of us are better at caring for our physical wounds than other types of wounds. Mourning can be seen as a method of caring for mental and emotional wounds.
Sometimes you have a minor cut or scrape and all you need is to wash it off, apply some antibacterial substance, and apply a bandage. Not doing this can lead to infection, scarring, and so on. Likewise, sometimes mourning can be as simple as noticing that something hurts and giving yourself just a moment to acknowledge that. Without jumping to anger about it, without pretending you are invulnerable, without immediately moving into “fix it” mode. Improving things can happen next, but put the bandage on before continuing to work. Don’t ignore the little wound or things will start to fester. This is basic first aid mourning.
Of course there are other injuries that require serious, long-term, and/or repetitive care. I am thinking of metaphors like surgery mourning (which may itself need to be mourned) and physical therapy mourning. As some acute pains heal up and leave us with some lingering aches when the weather changes, requiring application of Tiger Balm and a little massage mourning.
This metaphor is stretching, so I’ll let it rest, except to point out that most pains heal completely given prompt and appropriate attention. Many slowly heal and leave some trace behind. Others are chronic or progressive—they don’t go away and we can’t fix them, but we learn to care for ourselves and continue with life as best we can even as we hurt.
- Mourning and celebration are are intertwined. They are not opposites. To mourn something involves celebrating its value and acknowledging the pain caused by its loss or lack. We do not grieve that which we have not loved.
- It is easy to hear the overwhelming cacophonous wail of your hidden basement nursery of un-mourned pains, and imagine being sucked into a perpetual Hell of despair, darkness, and diaper-changing (and the stench of pain poop is unbearable!).
The truth is that it can take time, and there can be a lot of despair, especially if you’re new to granting yourself space for mourning. But no baby cries forever. It either calms down surprisingly quickly in the face of attuned empathetic presence (and having whatever immediate needs are noticed be met), or it tires itself out and sleeps for a while.
When your pains learn you will attend to them, you will notice there are fewer exceeding loud screaming fits, too.
You are not trapped in endless mourning forever.
- Mourning involves connecting into pain felt, which often brings up great sadness. Most people don’t want to feel sad, and so may try to avoid mourning. The paradox is that feeling the authentic sadness when it arises makes more room for spontaneous authentic joy.
- Mourning is about listening for and attending to pain as it arises, letting the experience be, flow, and change. It is not about seeking out, holding onto, or wallowing in our pain and suffering. Just as we allow our babies to learn to self-regulate and grow up, we let our pains heal and leave us as they are able.
I spent years not allowing myself to mourn. Now I allow myself the space for this need. In my experience, often my previous strategies for trying to understand and work through my pains led to a sense of being sucked deeper into my pain, hopelessness, coldness, and disconnection from my self and others.
Now when I recognize myself mourning, I feel like I am being washed lovingly with warm soothing water. There is a sense of being cleaner, lighter, and more connected. There is a sweetness to it, even when it feels intensely painful. I know that I can feel my authentic sadness and still know my authentic joy. A lot of trust arises from this knowledge.
I have a lot more to say and learn on this topic, but this will do for a start.