Over the River and Through the Woods...
Here’s the latest from Practicing Mental Illness:
Next week is Thanksgiving, and here in Pennsylvania the Health Commissioner has mandated that people not gather and share the holiday with people who live outside of their homes. She admits there’s no way to enforce this, but as we lock down again for at least the next six weeks people feel the crucial community with which we share our holidays slipping away.
Those most vulnerable to mental illness - the elderly, the children and those who live alone – are being told to tough it out and hunker down for a long, lonely stretch which will render this holiday season unrecognizable.
The problem is that mental illness does not respond well to toughing things out and long, lonely stretches. We are paying an indefensibly high price to combat Covid-19, a price that includes people’s livelihoods and education as well as their mental health.
People who advocate for big sweeping solutions to society’s intractable problems all too often lose sight of the importance of community. Small communities. Local communities. Individuals who come together by blood and by choice. Countless people will march for causes that are distant from their lives in the name of social justice. However, the most socially just thing we can do, the most important act of love we can express to positively impact the world we share, is to sit down with a few special people and eat turkey, watch football games, argue about politics, loosen our belts and share something so small and simple that we lose sight of the fact that it is the very reason we live.
We lose sight of that fact until it’s gone. Then the gravity of that loss risks crushing us with depression, anxiety and grief.
I fully understand the implications of what I am writing. I fully understand the risk of ignoring public health policy and reaching out in person and gathering anyway. That’s because I also understand the risk to our mental health, the even larger than Covid health crisis we invite if we face the holidays alone instead of with our loved ones.
My uncle died of the coronavirus. His family is extraordinarily careful in avoiding any further infections. They know the loss this virus can cause. They couldn’t mourn together. They couldn’t hold each other. And now they can’t fully be there for each other for the first holiday they’ll spend without their husband/father/grandfather.
I’m sorry, but some rules are made to be broken. People need each other, and in a time when we commiserate in deep traditions, in a time when we come together to eat cranberry sauce, fill stockings or light candles, Zoom doesn’t cut it.
This shutdown is in place because some people have been irresponsible. But it is possible to be responsible and to come together safely. Our mental health depends on it.
The government has no right to tell us that if we take the proper precautions we can’t celebrate this most holy time of year together. The crush of Covid cases is alarming, but most people, overwhelmingly most people, recover from the virus.
Mental illness not so much. We shouldn’t invite an epidemic of mental illness by draconian measures to avoid a treatable physical illness. We as families know who among us is high risk for Covid and we know how to protect them. Our minds are weaker and require love and community, ritual and tradition. Those are the things that keep us mentally healthy, and those are the things that make life worth living.
Community and Anxiety
Anxiety is a terrible feeling that makes us feel isolated and trapped in a body and mind wracked by lonely suffering. But this year, maybe more than at any time many of us have lived through, anxiety is a shared experience. We’re feeling common discomfort for common reasons. In my book Resilience: Handling Anxiety in a Time of Crisis I dedicate a chapter to how we can face this collective anxiety as a community. Here’s an excerpt:
Certainty can be found in a future that seals your fate with those you care about, those you aspire to be with, and those you depend on. If you’re lost within yourself, turn to others. The world is in turmoil and we know nothing about how this will end and what will be left for us. Don’t give up. Part of handling anxiety is looking outside, toward the future, as part of a group willing to search together. We must be sure to bring along the least of us.
Meditation
I had the opportunity to speak last week at Machik Fest, a gathering of people from the Tibetan diaspora. They more than anyone know the value of community as their homeland has been stolen from them and they have been scattered across the globe. They know the value of tradition, sacrifice and service. Their spiritual and exile leader, the Dalai Lama, has taught the value of meditation to many in the West. He promotes meditation as a way to take responsibility for others’ well-being. This we all can use during this global crisis. Instructions for this type of meditation can be found here.