Do we Need a Healthier Relationship with Death and Grief?
I don’t know about you, but 2020 confronted me with death more than any other year that I remember. And, actually, the majority of those deaths were not from COVID, although I can’t say for sure that the huge stress of major life changes and distance from loved ones didn’t play a role in some of them.
If you’re familiar with the work of Joanna Macy and the Work That Reconnects, then you’ll know what I mean when I say that we are feeling the effects of the Great Unravelling more and more strongly. The Great Unravelling describes one of the three stories of our time - while many people cling to the story of “business as usual”, telling themselves that everything will go back to normal once we roll out the COVID vaccine or somebody invents the right, magical technology for sequestering carbon out of the air, others look at what is happening around the globe and see a one-way journey to collapse.
The third story, however, is that of the Great Turning. The idea that there is a shift in consciousness happening at the same time as all of this - a move toward a greater connection with life, a stronger awareness of who and what we are. We might look at the increased awareness of ancestral trauma, colonisation and racism that we witnessed in 2020, or the increasing masses of young people demanding solutions for climate collapse, as part of that Turning.
Denial of Death and the Glorification of Youth
Either way; a lot of people I know died last year, and I know I am not alone in finding the grim reaper lurking closer than ever before. How do we cope with this sudden reminder that we won’t live forever?
As a society, most of us don’t like to think or talk about death. We’re not taught how to talk about it, so we become awkward and wooden when the subject comes up. In the UK, where I’m from, talking about “when I die” is dismissed as being strange and morbid, while anyone who grieves too much, too loudly or for too long is looked at with anything from judgement to pity.
On top of that, we are constantly bombarded with products designed to keep us looking young and healthy for as long as possible. We panic when we see a wrinkle or a grey hair, terrified that it signals our journey towards death. Youth and fertility are valued, while old people are increasingly pushed to the margins; now that we have the Internet, their stories and ancient wisdom is no longer venerated. Why ask Grandma when you can ask Alexa?
In Japan, you always stack chopsticks on the bowl, not into the rice - as this is reminiscent of a funeral tradition. This is just one of many death-averse superstitions around the world.
Capitalism and the Denial of Death
In the book The Denial of Death (1973), Ernest Becker suggested that human civilization is nothing grander than “an elaborate, symbolic defense mechanism against the knowledge of our mortality”.
This desire to “leave something behind” results in the creation of what Becker calls immortality projects; and while your own immortality project might be a book or blog post that you’re writing, we can see far more exaggerated and destructive examples throughout history — let’s say, for example, massive monuments, palaces and mausoleums.
Capitalism plays on our death denial by promising us ways to stay young and healthy forever, and by pushing us to build things — empires, businesses, fortunes, houses — that we can pass on and leave behind when we are gone. The continued inflation of the ego leads us to perceive our own death as a massive tragedy, rather than seeing it as part of life’s natural rhythms.
And what about grief? Grieving certainly doesn’t make for productive workers, so it is little wonder that we are prodded into recovering from the loss of a loved one quickly and to return to work as soon as possible. Our desire for quick-fix solutions has led us to expect a simple 5 or 10-step process for overcoming our grief; something we can buy, implement, and carry on with our lives.
I recently talked to Jenn M Choi on my podcast (The Way We Connect) about grief. Having lost both her parents by the age of 33, Jenn talks candidly and compassionately about the topic of grief — in fact, she is so passionate about the subject that she is writing her autobiography to remember her parents. One of the things she said that stuck with me the most was this: “Grief is not a journey that just ends. It lives with you.”
It’s nearly three years since I lost my grandmothers, and I still find myself grieving sometimes. I let myself cry when the tears come; although I accept, at the same time, that death is a natural part of life. I don’t cry over their death being some huge injustice or tragedy; I just miss them. And that’s OK.
We all die. You will die. I will die. And losing people hurts. Grief is painful. It can feel like actual, physical pain. People really do die of broken hearts. It can be very hard to sit with this knowledge, and yet denying it means that we are left with a culture that shies away from difficult conversations, awkwardly avoids uncomfortable emotions, shuffles away from giving genuine comfort and compassion, and leaves people feeling completely unable to cope when they do experience the loss of a loved one.
I find myself wondering — how can I honour those who have passed this year in a way that really feels whole and respectful? How can we, as a society, redress our relationship with death and grief? And is our reaction to death (in the West) in need of updating?
