Back Pocket Grief

We know that the shapes and sizes of grief span the depth and breadth of humanity, but we often think of grief as something "large" such as the loss of a loved one, or a diagnosis of a medical condition. In the face of these “large” griefs, we tend to suppress “smaller” griefs because we don’t feel they deserve space – slipping them into a back pocket. We also think comparatively: the grief of others is more extreme, more annihilating, more deserving of attention, and we often sit in moral judgment on our smaller griefs. It doesn’t matter that I wasn’t included in the office brunch, didn’t get my paper published, didn’t hear back from someone I thought I connected with.

But these smaller hurts still resonate in the body and need acknowledgment. To deny the body the space for grief, whatever the size, is to deny the validity of the body’s responses and, by extension, the validity of the self. The body doesn’t lie when it registers pain. But we can second guess the somatic response, especially if someone else questions it: Just get over it. I was joking. You’re so sensitive. And then we think: Am I really feeling this? Surely it’s not that bad?

When someone is attacked purely for who they are or what they look like, part of that person’s psyche is indelibly marked. Being made to feel unwelcome, or the subject of ridicule creates a sense of separation which is devastating for humans who innately crave acceptance and being part of community. The results: long-term agitation and hyper vigilance that will activate even when the threat of being rejected or unwelcome is marginal or non-existent.

The event I’ll describe concerns my being a brown person, but the effects are equally applicable to anyone who’s felt marginalized, targeted or bullied.?

In early October I made a brief visit to Iceland, home of fjords, glaciers, amazing fish soups, and hot springs. My (Caucasian) cousin and I visited one of the hot springs, and while no one looked at me or made any comment as I entered, there was the briefest moment, a sliver of a barely formed response, “Will anyone think I’m making the water dirty because I’m dark-skinned?” Obviously not a rational thought. After some interior investigation I realized it was an old twinge from my childhood, age 7, when my getting into a swimming pool caused reactions from both adults and kids in post-War England.

This hot spring experience made me wonder. I’ve lived in the US since 1987 – thirty-seven years. While I’ve encountered a number of racist incidents, very few of them have continued to haunt me since I’ve been able to talk or write about them and release them somatically. So why this sudden knee jerk response? Once I was in the water, the fleeting twinge disappeared completely. But the fact that it occurred at all made me think that it’s possible I haven’t released my back pocket griefs.

A recent study was conducted to see how the brain responds to traumatic events and stress. One finding indicated that there was “an increased activation in areas related to emotion regulation” (NPR, Experiencing Racism May Physically Change Your Brain). In other words, people experiencing varying types of discrimination at work will regulate their emotion to survive the moment of micro-aggression or other attack. If it occurs over extended periods of time – and no matter how long ago -- it can contribute to degradation in certain areas in the brain. This means that racism and any other form of marginalization can change the brain, particularly when the trauma and its effects are dismissed as exaggeration or hyper-sensitivity. If the attack is questioned – did this really happen – that leads to self-invalidation. That builds up over time, even if it’s unacknowledged or shoved into a back pocket.

This is grief.

When I’ve been asked why I designed Feathers, the community in grief program, I’ve referred to feedback from friends, clients, and workshop participants describing chronic grief, disenfranchised grief, global grief, post-COVID grief. Because I was focused on creating a program to bring people into community I didn’t think of its relevance for me, too. Until I stepped into a hot spring two weeks ago.

Now, I’m shifting out of “back pocket” griefs and especially acknowledging what my valiant body has been through. In doing this, I will be able to accept and make space for the larger griefs whenever they arrive. My body won’t be replaying old griefs to compound the new ones.

I’m looking forward to doing this in community with anyone in the Portland area who would like to come along and join us.

FEATHERS, ON GROUND is designed to support everyone who feels overwhelmed by grief and by being judged or shamed for grieving. Everyone’s grief is welcome. Join us in a non-judgmental, comforting and comfortable space downtown Portland. I’ll be sitting with you. Sliding scale tickets here: https://bit.ly/3YpocAa

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Work Cited

Hamilton, Jon, Rachael Carlson, Rebecca Ramirez. “Experiencing Racism May Physically Change Your Brain : Short Wave.”?NPR, 24 Jan. 2024. Accessed 14 Oct. 2024.

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