An Incomplete Cycle of Grief

I think grief is misunderstood.

I imagine that each person has their own relationship to grief. Some folks have lost a loved one, others lost a career. Speaking from my own experience with grief, I can say that it is extremely difficult, and can sometimes be transformative as well. 

The most grief I have felt is through the loss of individuals in my family or friend group. I can recall where I was when I learned about the death of my uncle Linde, or my close friend Jonathan, or my nephew Yonim. When these events happened, I was transported into a different state of being. I was lost inside myself, unable to see what was in front of me in the physical world. All I could “see” in my mind were my own confused thoughts. 

In each case, the passage of time led me through cycles of grieving, identified by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross' as denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance, and a sixth added later by David Kessler, finding meaning. Through each cycle I have found myself more able to proceed through life. The grieving process allows us to live through experiences that should crush us and eventually reassemble our lives in a new way so that we can carry on. This is the incredible transformational power of grief.

The question I have is this: if grief can help us integrate our deepest personal pain so that we become stronger, can it also help us integrate the pain of bigger, transpersonal issues, like systemic racism, climate change, or ideological divides? 

Now, to be clear, Black and Brown people already feel grief directly due to systemic racism. What I am wondering is whether grief can help white people really deal with the challenges of racism. Similarly, Pacific Islanders from Tuvalu already feel the grief of climate change as their islands are sinking under the ocean. Maybe grief can help the rest of us integrate the fact of their pain into our lives in a way that creates a new normal, one which acknowledges the reality on the ground.

Grief is transformative. In fact, let me turn the previous question around: Is a lack of being able to grieve our pain a source of systemic problems? Is it a cause of non-transformation?

Climate change denial, immigrant scapegoating, or anger about rioting are all issues rooted in the grief process. People feel hurt or scared about potential conspiracies, or a lack of available jobs, or a sense of insecurity in the streets, and they deny or get angry about the problem. These are natural steps in the grieving process. But if we don’t fully grieve, are we more likely to remain in outrage indefinitely? Are we less likely to be able to find compassion for others?

An incomplete grief cycle

It is understandable for someone to be outraged when they hear about a police officer who is injured or killed in the line of duty. Anger is the second stage of the five stages of grief. For grief to truly be transformative, so that we can integrate the realities of the world into our worldview, we have to complete the cycle. 

The remaining steps are bargaining, depression, and acceptance. When someone is visibly or uncontrollably angry, they are still in the middle of the grieving cycle. If someone remains angry about an issue for a long time, does it stand to reason that they’re grieving something very painful?

When we act out of anger, maybe what we are really trying to get at is the grief that lurks underneath. The transformative power of grief changes our experience of anger. Many of the great civil rights activists demonstrate the power of heart and presence of mind that, although fueled by anger, is channeled into a productive form that can effect change.

In addition to the injustices of the Breonna Taylor verdict or George Floyd murder, I am also angry about the devastating forest fires in my home state this past month. But again, anger is not the foundational feeling. Underneath it, I feel grief. I feel an unbearable emptiness, an unfillable hole inside myself for the ecosystems and quality of life being lost by everyone and everything. 

Anger can be useful in motivating me to take action, but it can also be counterproductive. When I am angry I don’t have access to compassion, and this makes it hard to empathize with others. I am currently wrestling through a dialogue with an online friend who thinks the hundreds of fires in California are due to arson, not climate change, even though I saw the lightning storm that caused the fires myself. In my anger, I run the risk of alienating him instead of finding common ground. Frankly, I don’t know what to do about it.

When we are angry, the world appears to be full of enemies. When we grieve, the world appears to be full of friends.

If our goal is to reduce pain and enhance the civility of our civilization, then tuning into what we’re really feeling—maybe grief rather than anger—seems important. If we feel mad about rioting in our communities, and then can get down to the part of ourselves that feels really sad about it, maybe we can be in a position to engage more powerfully—and impactfully—with others on the issue. Gary Zukav calls this “authentic power”, and it comes from integrating our feelings into our experience without reacting to them.

By contrast, if we are unable to integrate our feelings and instead react with unrestrained anger, we generate more pain in the world. We inevitably hurt others. And how could we not? If we don’t feel respect for them or their position, we are bound to cause them pain.

Reducing pain in the world through grief

Our goal should be not to simply deal with our own pain, but to reduce all pain. How do we do this? We all know the power of what I call “clearing actions.” These are moments of deep feeling, such as grief, tears, or even laughter. These experiences clear us out and allow our dilemmas to ease. After we’ve cried or laughed, we can see all sides of our problem at once. We cease to feel like we are surrounded by enemies, and we suddenly see each person as a friend in the process. We are grateful for them.

If you are a Democrat, can you imagine feeling grateful for the Republicans? If you are a Republican, can you imagine the reverse? I can, sometimes. Much of the time, no. But when I go underneath my anger and accept the great losses that I feel, I complete the cycle of grief and I truly feel that I am among friends. At these moments I do not hold a grudge. Although I remain alert for any chance to improve the situation, I also accept when I cannot. Grieving does not mean surrendering the fight. It means transforming the fight to another level, one on which we build each other up in the process rather than tear each other down.

The next time you feel stuck in unresolvable anger or frustration about the state of your world, try to access the underlying feeling. Find something to laugh about or cry about. Or try to expand your worldview to include someone else’s point of view. This increase in perspective can give you a sense of awe which transforms your personal discomfort into a more solid presence which impacts everyone positively. Find a way to complete the cycle of grief, so that you can once again feel that you are among friends.