Living Through Historical Events

Into The Depths by Janis Dehler

“I am tired of living through historical events.”

Oscar Mills, age 15

I think we can all say, “Amen” to that. The thing about historic events, however, is that they are a fact of life; they just keep coming. We all remember the historic events we have lived through over the years. My parents’ generation with the Great Depression and World War II. My generation lived through the Cuban Missile Crisis, the killings of our president, John F. Kennedy, as well as the Civil Rights Movement, the killings of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy, the shootings of protesters, and the Vietnam War. Now, we are just barely holding our head up after moving into our third year of a global pandemic, life turned upside down, isolation, death, and uncertainty and the politicization of a virus. We find we are holding our breath as we watch an invasion into Ukraine played out on our screens with the threat of nuclear war. We feel pain and heartache watching others suffer the devastation of war by an ever-threatening aggressor.

We have all lived through historic events be they personal, national, or global. They happen in the day-to-day course of life, the sudden death of a beloved, the sudden loss of a job, home, finances, faith, when all seems turned upside down and we have lost our grounding. In a day, one can wake up and find life routines and structure halted and a sense of security shaken to the core.

The Oscar quote was stated at our dinner table last Friday night after many fun light conversations that ultimately turned to the big one, World War III. This fifteen-year-old grandson is tired of years of isolation, prep for the threat of school shootings, police shootings, and now war with a much wider global implication. The people of Ukraine are tired and fearful. The world order is shifting and there is uncertainty. I have readers in Ukraine and my heart goes out to them. I have readers in Russia, and I send them care and concern as well. Those with the least suffer from the actions of the powerful.

When things fall apart, we might feel angry, fearful, confused, under great stress, agitation, and yes, tired. The challenge and the choice are in how we deal with the feelings. People are searching for targets for their emotions. I learned yesterday that an iconic restaurant in St. Paul, Moscow on the Hill, which first opened in 1994, is now being targeted with hate and death threats and being told they need to change their name. The Russian Museum of Art in Minneapolis is trying to get people to understand that they also stand with Ukraine as many in Ukraine have family in Russia. When we spew hate on our neighbor, we are no better than the one who made the decision to plummet Ukraine.

This same grandson at age eight chose a different way. When asked how he was handling the late term miscarriage of his awaited for baby brother or sister, he said, “I just keep moving forward until I can’t move forward anymore, then I wait, until I can move forward again.”He defined his way of moving through grief and loss.

The wisdom of an eight-year-old is what we need to heed today, we keep moving forward, then rest, then move forward. It is what we can do. Focus on what is before us, family, friends, work, our purpose in life. Pause, pay attention, reflect, feel our grief, then move. If we sit too long the anger and the fear and the feelings of hopelessness can rise and claim us, fester, and move into action against another. If we sit too long, we might turn the feelings inward and feel paralyzed in inaction.

Today, the sun rises whether we see it or not. We keep doing what we can do, in kindness, compassion, and with an open heart.

“Life is one big road with lots of signs. So, when you ride through the ruts, don’t complicate your mind. Flee from hate, mischief, and jealousy. Don’t bury your thoughts, put your vision to reality. Wake Up and Live!”

Bob Marley
The Flow of Compassion by Janis Dehler

On Going Resource List

  • The Gene Keys: Emracing Your Higher Purpose by Riuchard Rudd
  • Your Brain on Art: How the Arts Inform Us by Susan Magsamen and Ivy Ross
  • A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle
  • Energy Speaks: Messages from Spirit on Living, Loving, and Awakening by Lee Harris
  • Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself: How to Lose Your Mind and Create an New One by Dr. Joe Dispenza
  • The Women by Kristin Hannah
  • Cosmogenesis: An Unveiling of the Expanding Universe by Brian Thomas Swimme
  • The Mastery of Love, Don Miguel Ruiz
  • Change Your Thoughts—Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao, by Dr. Wayne W. Dyer
  • God of Love: A Guide to the Heart of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, by Mirabai Starr
  • The Four Agreements: A Toltec Book of Wisdom by Don Miguel Ruiz
  • Mindfulness and Grief by Heather Stang
  • How We Live Is How We Die by Pema Chödron
  • The Bhagavad Gita, Translated by Eknath Easwaran
  • St Francis of Assisi: Brother of Creation by Mirabai Starr
  • Wild Wisdom Edited by Neil Douglas-Klotz
  • Earth Prayers From Around The World, Ed by Elizabeth Roberts & Elias Amidon
  • The Tao of Relationships by Ray Grigg
  • Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom by John O’Donohue
  • Unconditional Love and Forgiveness by Edith R. Stauffer, Ph.D.
  • Keep Going: The Art of Perseverance by Joseph M. Marshall III
  • Art & Fear by David Bayless & Ted Orland
  • Quantum-Touch by Richard Gordon
  • The Van Gogh Blues: The Creative Persons Path Through Depression by Eric Maisel, PhD
  • The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit
  • Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith by Kathleen Norris
  • Forever Ours: Real Stories of Immortality and Living by Janis Amatuzio
  • Personal Power Through Awareness by Sanaya Roman
  • Violence & Compassion by His Holiness the Dahlai Lama
  • Teachings on Love by Thich Nhat Hanh
  • Devotions by Mary Oliver
  • To Bless the Space Between Us by John O’Donohue
  • Meditations From the Mat by Rolf Gates and Katrina Kenison
  • The House of Belonging: poems by David Whyte
  • Full Catastrophe Living: Using the Wisdom of Your Body and Mind to Face Stress, Pain and Illness, by Jon Kabat-Zinn
  • The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit
  • Soul an Archaeology Edited by Phil Cousineau
  • A Path With Heart by Jack Kornfield
  • Listening Point by Sigurd Olson
  • I Sit Listening to the Wind by Judith Duerk
  • Dancing Moons by Nancy Wood
  • The Soul of Rumi, Translations by Coleman Barks
  • Keep Going by Joseph M. Marshall III
  • Arriving at your own Door by Jon Kabat-Zinn
  • The Untethered Soul by Michael Singer
  • The Hidden Secrets of Water by Paolo Consigli
  • Conquest of Mind by Eknath Easwaran
  • Color: A Natural History of the Palette by Victoria Finlay
  • Peace is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh
  • I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn’t) by Brene Brown
  • Practicing Peace in Times of War by Pema Chodron
  • When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron
  • On Death and Dying by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross
  • Unattended Sorrow by Stephen Levine
  • Joy in Loving, Mother Theresa
  • The Joy of Living by Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche
  • Let Your LIfe Speak by Parker Palmer
  • Zen and the Art of Saving the Planet by Thich Nhat Hanh
  • The Essence of the Upanishads by Eknath Easwaran
  • Welcoming the Unwelcome by Pema Chodron
  • Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer
  • Medicine Cards: The Discovery of Power Through The Ways Of Animals by Jamie Sams and David Carson

Tears From The Heart

The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea.                                                                          Karen Blixen

A friend recently asked if it is okay not to cry as others do. I have encountered this question in the past from clients and at times from myself. Tears are curious things. They can come unexpectedly, unwanted, in torrents, or gently and softly, and not at all. And then we wonder, why? 

Tears might come as a simple moistening in the eyes, or gently fall while experiencing another’s pain. They might come quite suddenly in a joyful moment, and we feel our heart burst open. We can feel cleansed after a deep cry. Our body relaxes, softens, and as we breathe and quiet, we might become aware of a larger space within. There are tears after a profound loss that can feel as if we will drown. There are also the tears after humiliation, betrayal, standing up for yourself when all you want is to be angry and confront, and then out pour the tears. Then that feels humiliating. Sometimes tears come after prolonged laugher, the kissin’ cousin of tears, with at times moving into the weeping of deep pain that had been buried or ignored. It can feel as if we have no control, and we don’t. Not really. We can make ourselves cry but that takes some practice and may be a surface experience only. We can at times hold our tears back, bite them back, but then everything else gets all scrunched up and we tighten around the tears or the loss. We can feel like we have not cried at the appropriate time, like at a funeral. Then, a few weeks later, we are watching a Hallmark commercial or a movie or listening to a song and the tears flow, sometimes gently and at times into a sob. We may not find tears at all in a loss experience as our primary feeling might be gratitude or relief.

The tears after profound loss don’t necessarily flow freely. Not for me anyway. After I learned that my baby had birth defects and would not live, I was in shock and numb. I was brought to her in the NICU and on the way there had a panic attack. I could not breathe. Then I saw her in all the wires and machines, and she was beautiful. It was only later, back in my room, away from it all, during our priest’s prayer and blessing, as he placed his hand on my head, that the tears arrived. Even then they were painful but gentle. This loss contained a well of tears that took many tear sessions over a length of time to get to the depth of the well. 

After my dad’s death, I went into action. There was funeral planning, a eulogy to write, family arrangements, making sure mom was attended to. It took a few weeks, and seeing I was starting to snap at my husband, for me to realize and own that the pain was being held in too long and I needed to take the time to go to the well. It was the same after my mom’s death except the first tears came in torrents soon after her critical stroke when I knew to my core where this was headed with the difficult decisions needing to be made. 

Not having tears does not have to mean one is numb. It does not necessarily mean the heart is closed. The mantra from my childhood goes, “If you are going to cry, go to your room.” It has been hard for me to fully cry in another’s presence. I have had to learn to trust that experience as it does not come naturally. My daughter is my teacher. I marveled since she was young how tears could flow naturally and freely in pain or joy. I treasured her free open expression and realized how the witnessing of her tears opened my heart. Some cultures encourage and live out a very natural robust expression. For others it is stoic. We are a melting pot of an array of expressions, and we cannot judge one against the other. And certainly, we cannot judge ourselves in our experience. At best we bring compassion and curiosity. 

My response to my friend’s question? It is all okay. Tears are not required. Rather than, why am I not crying, I might ask; Is there something I am not expressing? What do I wish to express? In what way now do I want to express myself? Create? Build? Write? Sing? Laugh?  In what way do I best express myself? Then, after the question, return to the heart and listen.

Tears are healing because they flow from the heart and there is a myriad of ways to express from the heart. When we do allow expression, we feel not only a deeper connection to self but to the greening world around us, to the collective whole, to sacred Oneness. In our honest open expression, we come to an inner silence, the doorway to the Divine.