This Might Help You Move Through What’s So Hard Right Now…
I’m going to throw a nerdy phrase your way: ambiguous loss. It’s something you may be experiencing right now, and it might help explain what’s feeling so hard for so many of us—and what we can do about it. Let me explain.
Perhaps you’ve got boatloads of feelings right now that are hard to pinpoint. You could be feeling down or sad in response to “current events,” a difficult moment in your life, or the lives of those you care about. Maybe it’s the loss of a job, or the painful process of stepping away after a long-time career. Or maybe it's the dismay at the chaos being wreaked by people in power right now. And there’s this uncomfortable feeling like something’s been lost, or is being lost—but there’s no clear, tangible loss to point to. You might be grieving, but without a dead body to explain it.
Ambiguous loss is “a loss that remains unclear and without official verification or immediate resolution, which may never be achieved” (A quick shout-out to Pauline Boss here: The Myth of Closure: Ambiguous Loss in a Time of Pandemic and Change.)
When we experience this kind of psychological loss, it feels hard to make sense of. The ambiguity can be overwhelming. It compromises our physical and emotional health. We feel isolated, alone, and we often deprive ourselves of the care and compassion we need.
So what can we do when we’re feeling this ambiguous loss? Three things.
We can build resilience. Pauline Boss talks about this—about learning to “live with and thrive through” the ambiguity. Two things can be true at once: Yes, my situation is difficult. AND I have the power to decide what I want to do next. It’s about learning to sit with the discomfort of ambiguity rather than defaulting to an either-or mindset.
We can revisit our assumptions. Viktor Frankl, a Holocaust survivor and psychologist, shared this powerful idea: “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves” (Man’s Search for Meaning). We might need to rethink our assumptions or consider shifts that could help us redefine who we are in this moment.
We can take action. We can educate ourselves on how others (individuals and nations) have coped and managed through challenging, even terrifying times. We can put our doom scrolling and dark thoughts to the side for a portion of our day and spend time with people and in activities that refresh us. We can secure the help of those who offer support and guidance, whether it’s physical, emotional, or professional.
In the aftermath of our country’s most tragic events, grieving widows, parents, and communities have found ways to discover new hope – never losing sight of the losses inspiring the needed change. We can, too.
Footnote: I highly recommend the work of Pauline Boss. In particular “The Myth of Closure: Ambiguous Loss in a Time of Pandemic and Change.” Her insights on personal loss, combined with her reflections on the pandemic’s double-whammy loss ring true now.