Late Fall 2020
Newsletter
The American Interregnum?
A Time In Between?
A Time In Between?
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Interregnum [L. < inter-, between + regnum, reign] |
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- An interval between two successive reigns when the country has no sovereign;
- A suspension of governmental or administrative functions;
- Any breakdown in a series or in a continuity; a pause or interval.
Or how about this fourth definition from a long-ago anthropologist:
- For groups, as well as individual, life itself means to separate and to be reunited, to change form and condition, to die and to be reborn. It is to act and to cease, to wait and rest, and then to begin acting again, but in a different way.
—Arnold van Gennep, from Les Rites de Passage, 1908
Dear friends,
Oh what a tumultuous time! A time in between. A time between a dying and a rebirth. The middle phase of a rite of passage. A threshold crossing: threshing the wheat from the chaff.
In this middle phase, a person is "no name" and has "no story." And so, inevitably, this is a time of great uncertainty and angst, but also a time of potential and possibility.
How to hold the tension inherent in all that?
I continue to do 1-on-1 rites-of-passage counseling with people all over the world. These last few weeks have taught me a new lesson about this middle phase of a rite of passage -- or perhaps it's been a deepening of an old lesson. I've been thinking lots about how any individual moving through a difficult in-between time is actually navigating along three intertwining threads of change: the collective experience, one's present-tense personal experience, and also past experiences that have gotten triggered.
Collective Experience
Consider first all of the big collective transitions that are underway:
· The American interregnum, a disorienting political time of in-between: Is it possible for all to agree that we've had a free and fair election? Will democratic institutions and the rule of law survive all the questioning? Is a healing of this country's great political rift possible?
· The in-between of a pandemic: As hospitalization numbers and the death toll both climb precipitously, how do each of us survive the shuttering inside required by a long winter? And more specifically, what do we each do about the holidays to come?
· The in-between of a terrible fire season: As the wet blessings of rain and snow arrive, what do we in the western U.S. do about "the new normal": a serious fire season every fall? For some this means asking: Do I hunker down where I am, or is it time to move away, setting into motion yet another great rite of passage?
Individual Experience
Interweaving with all of this collective change are the individual transitions unique to each person's life. From my own counseling practice, here are a few transitions that I've been asked to support this year:
· The in-between of illness: A man juggling a myriad of medical problems, many being the after-effects of total body radiation decades ago for lymphoma. An ICU nurse suffering from a serious version of post-COVID syndrome, wondering how to survive. A man undergoing open heart surgery, wondering if he'll wake up on the other side.
- The in-between of death: A woman dying of metastatic cancer, knowing she'll soon leave behind two children who must navigate a world as motherless children. Another woman accompanying her husband as he's dies of Parkinson's disease, only to discover that this is a kind of death for her, too.
- The in-between of normal life passages: A young woman considering quitting medical school, questioning if this chosen career path has been a great mistake. Several people "retiring", questioning how they might rename this new phase of life as a positive opening rather than a negative closing down.
Past Experience
The role of old losses and traumas is not always so obvious, but perhaps they are part of every challenging, traumatic time that we move through as an adult.
I learned this firsthand just this past week, working with a nurse practitioner who retired earlier this year and then recently developed new-onset chest pain that's prompted a major medical work-up. Along with the expected present-tense feelings of uncertainty and anxiety, she's had an old body memory from early childhood resurface: at the age of 8, waking one morning to learn that her father had died suddenly the night before. The anxiety of that young girl is now intermingling with the emotions of the mature woman. No way for her to be with one without also holding the other.
How about you? During this challenging time, what from your past has been surfacing?
The Unique Challenge of Living -- Right Now
In all of my client sessions these past two weeks, the conversations have moved fluidly and freely between each of these different levels of transition.
That said, I can't emphasize enough what a big impact this American interregnum has had on people -- even those who live in other countries. For almost everyone (and most certainly for myself), all of November has brought a steady assault on the psyche and the soul. The tension-filled build-up to the election . . . the slow counting of votes all through election week . . . the recounts and court cases of these past ten days . . . and through it all, the continued strife and divisiveness created by claims of "fake news" and the like.
Oh my! What to do?!
Speaking only for myself, my nervous system has been so jangled by all of this, that coping with my own personal challenges and transitions has been so much harder.
So How to Cope?
How does a person cope with life's challenges -- be they about health, or job, or home, or life passages, or past traumas, or whatever -- when so much about us, and inside of us, is jangled and unsettled?
Four simple suggestions
(1) Get yourself outside -- and often!
I know I sound like a broken record, preaching this in most every newsletter I write. But it's for a reason. If all that mirrors our inner world is the chaos of politics and pandemics, then all that will flourish inside is that same kind of chaos. What if, instead, you spent an hour each day walking in a wide-open space, seeing your dog romp about, or listening to birds chirping, or watching the waves break on a beach? All of which can easily be done free of the risk of COVID infection!
One extra thought about getting outside: Do you have the right winter clothing to keep doing this on a near-daily basis? An extra-warm jacket. A decent rain coat. A proper hat. With the unique COVID challenges of this winter, it'll be so important to not have this seasonal lockdown be any worse than it needs to be.
This calls to mind a meeting I had many years ago with an earnest young man while sitting naked in a wild hot spring in the backwoods of Washington's Olympic Peninsula. I vividly remember him saying to me (rather obnoxiously, I have to admit): "There's no such thing as bad outdoor weather, just bad outdoor clothing!"
Truthfully, some days the weather is so nasty, it's best just to stay indoors. Ah, but with the right clothing . . .
(2) Be creative -- write, paint, sing, dance, cry, rejoice:
It's so important to find a way to express your own personal jumble of feelings, especially in the great jumble of a time in between.
What's your way?
My own way is writing. As some of you know, for several years I've been working on a new book, The Red Thread of Story. But then something happened -- perhaps you heard about it -- a pandemic hit! From March to August I stopped working on this creative project. Completely stopped. Then with my first long trip to the desert back in August, I returned to it, only to leave it aside again once I was back home. But now, since returning from my last desert program three weeks ago, I'm back at it. Almost every day, I'm writing -- even amidst all the political chaos. And with that I'm reminded again how, for me, writing is an important way to cultivate inner spaciousness. If getting outdoors provides a wider view of the outside world, then near-daily writing provides a wider view of my inside world.
So what's your own preferred way(s) for self-expression?
Whatever is your way, may you find the resolve to make this a weekly practice, if not a near-daily one.
(3) Find ways to tell a deeper, more authentic version of your life story:
Seek out others -- perhaps even a circle of people -- where you can tell your own true story. For people living alone, this is especially important -- something to "strategize" about, as one living-alone friend told me. Might it be 1-on-1 connections? Or some kind of community work? Or . . . ? Central to any of these strategies, I would suggest, is finding a place to tell an honest version of your life story.
Here's something I wrote the other day while working on chapter 11 of my 12-chapter book:
"When we tell a story that gives meaning to our suffering (our joy, too), we can elevate that challenging life experience, making it something greater. This is who I am. This is what I’ve learned. This is what I stand for. That act of storytelling makes human existence more than just bearable. It makes it sacred."
(4) Be extra-mindful of how you handle the winter season:
While this isn't specifically about strategies for coping, it's directly connected. A natural urge at a time like this is to resort to old, traditional ways of coming together in wintertime: meeting indoors in larger circles. Holidays. Family gatherings. Parties. But in doing that, you may dangerously expand your own personal COVID "bubble." Time to be extra-mindful of what risks are worth taking. At the end of this newsletter, I've included several articles that explore this conundrum more deeply.
So how about you? What do you do that helps get you through? At times like this, we need all the resolve, all the clarity, all the equanimity we can muster!
wishing you some measure of all that,
Scott