On guilt and grieving
Q&A with Zen teacher and movement strategist, Norma Wong.
Q. My question is concerning the restrictions of COVID-19 that prevented me from being with my mother in a hospital rehab center before she passed. In what turned out to be her last days and moments, she was alone. My mother was not in a position to communicate or effectively use phone or video. I feel a sense of guilt and sadness (for her as well) and as a result, I feel it is blocking my ability to grieve normally — if there is such a thing. How do I get past that feeling of guilt that she felt abandoned?
A. About a year ago, our lives turned upside down… and stayed there.
We’re used to managing difficult situations, but not for such a long stretch of time. There is so much that we are unable to control, and so we try to control everything, especially our feelings. It isn’t rational, and it doesn’t work very well, but we nevertheless try, and try, and try.
Think of ‘try’ in this way…try really hard to lift up a glass of water without ever lifting it up and perhaps not even touching the glass. That is how much energy we can pour into the try.
A regret is a try. Guilt is a try. We know this is true because our regret and guilt bring us no relief no matter how much time or energy we throw into it.
We need relief, and the grace that relief may bring. This is a gift that we may give ourselves. To sit down when everything is spinning in our minds and our hearts hurt, take a breath, a drink of something something, feel the ground under our feet, and remember a time when we were in right relationship with our mother, our loved ones that are no longer with us.
Just remember what it felt like, what was happening, the taste of the moment.
And perhaps a smile will arise, even a laugh, or a tear fall, perhaps many.
We need the smile, we need the tears, and beyond rationality the smiles and tears will restore our hurting and tired spirits.
Say the things you need to say that haven’t been able to be said, out loud or in writing or perhaps just a whisper in your heart’s mind.
That you miss them.
That you’re sorry.
That you love them.
Say those things simply, without overthinking and analysis, saying just enough as you may mean it, feel it, without explanation or defense. Just enough, for now.
Take a breath. Stretch. Rest.
Do this to release yourself from the impossibility of perfection in a world turned upside down, and to restore the spirit and possibility of who you are and have always been.
