Grief (Life is Hard, Chapter 3)
by Andrew Lacy
Hello there! For this blog post, I'll be discussing the topic of grief, through the lens of the discussion presented by Chapter 3 of the book Life Is Hard by Kieran Setiya. The topic of grief is a vast, emotionally heavy, and intensely personal and complex topic for many reasons. It's not an emotion we feel, rather a process that we do, and as such, it's fluidity makes it a difficult topic to fully surmise in a blog post such as this.
However, hopefully using the information I've gathered in my readings, I can present various ideas surrounding the topic in a way that not only explains the various views on grief, but also possibly helps many of us navigate the process more smoothly in our own lives.
The Chapter starts off discussing Tig Notaro, a comedian who used humor to cope with the death of her mother. Due to the complex nature of grief, many of us use various aspects of our lives, creative endeavors, hobbies, or in more dire cases, unhealthy or destructive habits, all to cope with the changing process that is grief. Contrary to what many may believe, grief is not a static process. Grief itself can be filled with all kinds of emotions and feelings; moments of sorrow, anger, despair, or in Notaro's case, moments of light, levity, and depth. While I obviously can't speak to her experience (or anyone's for that matter) it feels fair to say that her comedy incorporating aspects of her grief wasn't just a way to distract herself, but also existed as a way to encapsulate and remember the light and positive aspects of her mother.
Tig Notaro
Building on the fact that grief isn't a static process, there's no evidence that suggests that grief comes in the classic 5 stages many of us are familiar with ( Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance). Rather, George A Bonanno suggests the idea that grief comes in goes in more of a pattern of oscillating waves, with different feelings coming and going depending on time, certain stimuli, or a mixture of both. Speaking from some of friends' and family members' experiences, many have felt a wave of both nostalgia and positive reminiscence underscored by a profound longing and sadness, spurred on by a location or event reminding them of memories of a now deceased friend or family member.
Later in the chapter, Setiya begins to discuss what he considers to be more of the fallacies in the understanding and conception of grief, with one argument in particular being that much of Western philosophy sees grief as some sort of issue to be somehow fixed, "a problem to be solved. But grief is not a mistake; and philosophy should not disown it." He goes on from here to discuss a philosopher with a viewpoint on grief that he particularly disagrees with. This philosopher was the Greek figure "Epictetus", a man who used his stoic ideologies to combat the idea of grief. The general idea behind Epictetus' conception of grief is that every living being will eventually die some day in the future correct? If so, then one shouldn't concern themselves with the process of death, as in his eyes, it's a natural process that would be foolish to oppose or expect otherwise.
Philosopher Henry James equates Epictetus' idea to the idea of "sour grapes"; if we can't have "it" (it in this case being the immortality or ability to prevent the death of loved ones) then we shouldn't want it. As James says, according to Epictetus, we shouldn't want to prevent the death of loved ones since it's an inherent inevitability, but James himself argues that while we shouldn't blame ourselves for the loss of loved ones, we should be be allowed to care about the loss of loved ones. "Stoicism may dull pain, but it does so by distracting us from the things that really matter." If we lose the ability to feel pain, the ability to be affected by injustice or sadness, not only does it make the idea of happiness comparatively less powerful, but it also can cause us to grow numb to the various injustices and mistreatment we face in reality, destroying our sense and drive for hope.
The chapter moves forward to discuss various fallacies and unexpected difficulties regarding the grieving process. One of the prime examples of this is the idea that grief can somehow be predicted or prepared for in some way, when that simply isn't the case. No matter how familiar you are with the concept of loss and grief, you'll never know how it truly feels and manifests until you yourself are forced to go through that process. Every aspect of grieving someone or something is intensely tied to the personal connection you held with them, and just as the connection you shared was wholly unique, so too is the feelings of loss you'll face whenever a death or loss comes to pass.
Love is inextricable from the idea of grief. To grieve is to miss and feel intense pain, sorrow, or emptiness because you loved and valued someone so intensely. It's missing the ability to continue loving them and all the wonderful things they did when they were here. Getting a bit personal for a second, October of 2021 I lost my family dog, Friday. Christmas Eve of 2021, I lost my kitten named Alphonse. And this past October of 2022, I lost my other family dog, Zilla. I loved all 3 of them intensely for various reasons. Friday was the first family pet I vividly remember having, and I remember growing up alongside him. He was aloof yet excitable, soft yet sturdy. Alphonse was a healing presence overall. Such a sweetheart who looked and acted like a spoiled yet sweet little baby every chance he got. And Zilla was the definition of adorably excitable, always jumping around and shaking whenever she saw someone she liked. The individual losses of these 3 hurt not just because they'd passed away, but because I'd never be able to see them again, to play with them again, to love them again.
The grief I went through and still in many ways continue to navigate after losing them is... certainly painful and tricky, but it's also a necessary process to move forward and heal. To allow myself to both miss their presence, but also to love and endlessly appreciate the positive influence they left on my life. That to me is what grief means. To intensely love and lose, but to be able to still continue feeling, living, and forming new loving connections, all while trying to move forward. It's complex, intensely painful, and extremely personal, but it's necessary to allow ourselves to heal.
"Philosopher Henry James" --In the broadest sense of the term he was a philosopher, but he never called himself that. In his family, WJ was the philosopher. Henry was the novelist. Interestingly, though, it was remarked that WJ the psychologist/philosopher wrote philosophy as though it were literature, and Henry the literary lion wrote fiction as though it were psychology. Anyway, I think Henry was right about Epictetus.
ReplyDeleteI appreciate your thoughts on the loss of our treasured canine and feline friends, having grown up in a Veterinarian's home I've had that experience countless times over the decades. The grief is always real, but the positive memories are too. And losing our four-legged friends is great preparation for losing the treasured people in our lives as well. The emotions are very much the same, if felt perhaps to a different degree.
There's still time to embed some links.
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