“I have good days and bad days. And I have days that start good, and then I just fall into these holes of feeling so disoriented and despairing” — Krista Tippett
Well, friends, 2020’s been quite the year! If you had told me that I would be spending March 19th - August 3rd in quarantine...well, I might have lost it. Because this isn’t natural. This isn’t the life I want (or had). I hang out with friends. I try new restaurants. I go on dates. I go to lectures and discussions and comedy shows. I hug people! And yet, here we are. We’ve made it this far, which feels like something incredibly worthy of recognition and celebration.
I know I’m not alone, however, when I say that the last few weeks have been some of, if not the most challenging of this entire experience. The light at the end of the tunnel has been pushed out and I don't know about you, but I started to feel hopeless. Angry that the life I want isn’t in reach. Despair over not being able to meet my needs in the ways I’d grown accustomed to.
This weekend, while on a drive (because I’m now someone who goes on drives on a regular basis), trying to figure out what I needed in that exact moment to support myself, I turned on this podcast, which I encourage you to check out (even just the first 15 minutes). This episode of On Being features Pauline Boss, the academic who named the phenomena of ambiguous loss.
My therapist introduced me to this idea a couple weeks ago. Where I was sure I was getting depressed, she instead informed me that it was far more likely that I was grieving. And while I could see she was probably right, I also felt like, “me? Are you sure? What do I have to grieve?” My covid-quar has been relatively blessed. I haven't lost anyone (something I’m incredibly grateful for); while business has slowed, it has not stopped; I miss my community (and meeting new people), but I do see my family (it’s not just me and the cats). So really, really really, what am I grieving?
Enter ambiguous loss. Tough to name, rife with invitations to comparative suffering and finally a name to describe what I’ve been feeling. It’s the loss of rhythms. Of rituals. Of hugs.
So why do I share this with you? Well, outside of the fact that it may bring your brain some relief to be able to put words to this experience, I want you to remember that not only are you going through this, but so are your employees, colleagues and leaders. I see so many organizations trying to proceed with business as usual, and while the train most certainly needs to keep moving forward, this isn’t business as usual. Your employees aren’t simply working from home. They’re working from home in the middle of a pandemic, often with the rest of their family, trying to homeschool their children, maintain a romantic partnership, keep the house from looking like a bomb exploded, cook 21 meals a week…
So I ask you: what are you doing to honor that? The likelihood is you’re more tolerant about dogs barking in the background or Zoom’s freezing up for the 4th time today <fist shake>, which is great. But have you gone beyond that? If you have employees reporting to you, are you partnering with your employees to think creatively about how and when work gets done? Are you reassessing your team’s goals with a slightly more critical eye to what truly needs to get done? Are you asking your employees how they’re doing with a true curiosity for the answer?
These aren't easy times. We can't take our foot off the gas entirely. And it’s tough to worry about someone else’s bucket when yours is feeling empty. But we can continue to remind ourselves that we’re a bunch of humans struggling through something challenging. We can extend more grace to our colleagues and more grace to ourselves. We can get real about our true priorities instead of everything we super duper really want to accomplish.
If you need a hand to hold or someone to hear you out while you sort out the answers to these questions and so many more, we’re here. And if nothing else, we’ll be there to celebrate you with a hug (and a beer) when we’re through this.