Part Two - Healthy Lamenting
Those who have been following these Self-Care Notes for a while know that I usually offer some tips on things we can do to improve our Spiritual Health. These tips generally include spiritual disciplines and practices, physical health ideas, and mental exercises. The notes are about motivating the reader to use these practices to improve their lives.
This week, I will be exploring healthy laments that will help us lay a foundation for hope in these difficult days. But lament is not a spiritual discipline or any other exercise for body-mind-soul. It is not something we do. We do not call up lament and start it rolling through our spirit. Instead, lament rises from deep within our souls and overflows into our mind and body. It is not voluntary. Lamentation happens!
For our purposes in this note, lament is a profound response to a painful emotion. It is a type of “soulquake” that engages the mind and body in responding to the anger, fear, guilt, shame, disappointment, or hatred that rises from our depths. It may spur the body to fight or run away. It can bring old and painful memories to the surface. Lament can trigger old feelings, buried under thick scars in our minds and souls. Lamentation happens! We do not choose it. Nor can we control its power over our inner life.
Lament is not a discipline to be learned, but it does require discipline. We can learn from it and allow it to lead us through the darkened valleys in our daily lives. A lament can be a healthy response to a painful experience when we acknowledge our feelings, give them a voice, and listen to what they have to tell us. (See last week’s Self-Care Note). Lament requires the discipline not to deny or bury the lament. It demands the mental and soulful maturity to let it out into our awareness and ride it until the energy that it produces can channel us into healthier ways of living.
Right now, many people are dealing with all kinds of painful emotions. We are going through varying degrees of anger, fear, guilt, shame, disappointment, and hatred. These emotions are happening to us. We cannot control their appearing or disappearing. They may show themselves as angry, blaming outbursts directed at innocent bystanders. They may set self-doubts aflame with bitter self-criticism and condemnation. They may trigger old memories that evoke long-buried feelings of incompetence or persecution. While we cannot control these inner experiences, we can control how we express them in our daily lives. In such moments, discipline plays an important role. We can control how we vent and use the energy created by these emotions in the outside world.
This week, I will be exploring healthy laments that will help us lay a foundation for hope in these difficult days. But lament is not a spiritual discipline or any other exercise for body-mind-soul. It is not something we do. We do not call up lament and start it rolling through our spirit. Instead, lament rises from deep within our souls and overflows into our mind and body. It is not voluntary. Lamentation happens!
For our purposes in this note, lament is a profound response to a painful emotion. It is a type of “soulquake” that engages the mind and body in responding to the anger, fear, guilt, shame, disappointment, or hatred that rises from our depths. It may spur the body to fight or run away. It can bring old and painful memories to the surface. Lament can trigger old feelings, buried under thick scars in our minds and souls. Lamentation happens! We do not choose it. Nor can we control its power over our inner life.
Lament is not a discipline to be learned, but it does require discipline. We can learn from it and allow it to lead us through the darkened valleys in our daily lives. A lament can be a healthy response to a painful experience when we acknowledge our feelings, give them a voice, and listen to what they have to tell us. (See last week’s Self-Care Note). Lament requires the discipline not to deny or bury the lament. It demands the mental and soulful maturity to let it out into our awareness and ride it until the energy that it produces can channel us into healthier ways of living.
Right now, many people are dealing with all kinds of painful emotions. We are going through varying degrees of anger, fear, guilt, shame, disappointment, and hatred. These emotions are happening to us. We cannot control their appearing or disappearing. They may show themselves as angry, blaming outbursts directed at innocent bystanders. They may set self-doubts aflame with bitter self-criticism and condemnation. They may trigger old memories that evoke long-buried feelings of incompetence or persecution. While we cannot control these inner experiences, we can control how we express them in our daily lives. In such moments, discipline plays an important role. We can control how we vent and use the energy created by these emotions in the outside world.
How do we keep out lament healthy?
First and foremost, do not resist or deny your lament. Too many people rely upon denial to mask their painful emotions. Denial is a helpful short-term method. But in the long run, it will erode our sense of self and cripple our inner life. It can lead us to divorce our inner reality from our daily living. Unfortunately, that energy it creates will find its way to the surface. It can explode, causing harm to those around us, especially those we love. When that energy and emotion does surface, it is likely that we (nor those around us) will know or understand our outburst. Therefore, do not hold it on. Let that lament in your soul rise to the surface and express itself, thus avoiding future meltdowns.
Second, resist feeling guilty for being in lament. Many people, especially deeply religious folks, feel guilty when they allow lament to surface. They take it as a sign of weak faith or a lack of a reasonable understanding of life. They feel bad about feeling sad. This sadness complicates the experience and adds a new layer that will need to be peeled away before we can address our lament. Lamentation happens, even to the most faithful. Do you remember who spoke the words, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me!”?
Next, do not confuse losing hope with being in despair. Despairing of the future is an all-too-familiar experience for the human heart. When our hurt-filled feelings overwhelm our positive expectations, we enter into despair. However, this is not the same as losing hope. Our pain may temporarily cloud our view of the promised land, but desperation cannot dissipate faith. Hope is deep-rooted. Real hope rises out of our relationship to that in which we place our highest trust. As long as we know that our god (whether that is the God of Abraham and Jesus or the power of life itself) walks with us and wants the best for us, hope will continue. Again, the clouds of despair may obscure hope, but the light will return. Our hope will rise from the darkness. Do not confuse despair with losing hope.
Third, stay authentic with your feelings. Acknowledge and claim them. Do not make more or less of them than they deserve. A momentary disappointment is not a sentence to a lifetime of failure. Deep anger is not a permanent declaration of war. A burning sense of shame or guilt is not a final judgment on our value and worth as human beings. They are indications of a disruption in our lives at this moment and under these circumstances. Stay in the “now” with them. Keep your responses tied to these feelings, and this moment. Keep them authentic and real. Do not allow your lament to exaggerate, catastrophize, or minimize your situation.
Lastly, be aware of how your lament is touching those around you. If you are hurting others, step away from them. Mitigate your outward expressions. If others are following you into your lament, leaning on your experiences rather than their own, move away and give them space for their lament. Beware of the “Job’s friends” around you who will try to explain away your feelings or encourage you to “not feel this way. Often, these folks are more interested in avoiding their pain than they are in dealing with yours. If you are unsure of how others are responding to your lament, seek out a safe place to express yourself. However, if others are sitting with you, without judgment, and offering a caring presence without a lot of words, keep them close. They are real friends who have your best interests at heart.
I close this self-care note with some wisdom from my Dad. He was a greater believer is planting by the moon. He would only plant certain crops by the “dark of the moon.” He believed that this gave the seeds more of what they needed to grow into a healthy garden.
I believe that the seeds of hope are best planted in the darkness of lament. Those small seeds, smaller even than a mustard seed, will have what they need to grow into great hope. The night will give the seed the humility to sprout new life. It will allow the seed the room to imagine and see life as it could be. The darkness will teach the seed to live “as if.” Not all seeds planted, even in the dark of the moon, will sprout. But those seeds that do take root will sustain us when the darkness gathers once again.
These are days lament. The losses will continue to accumulate, and painful feelings will stir “soulquakes” deep within ourselves and those around us. Let’s give each other room to lament. Avoid rushing each other through our lamentations. Sit patiently with one other. Allow these days to be an opportunity for seeing the best of the human spirit as it reveals hope.
My prayers and thoughts are with you.
Blessings,
Bob
Second, resist feeling guilty for being in lament. Many people, especially deeply religious folks, feel guilty when they allow lament to surface. They take it as a sign of weak faith or a lack of a reasonable understanding of life. They feel bad about feeling sad. This sadness complicates the experience and adds a new layer that will need to be peeled away before we can address our lament. Lamentation happens, even to the most faithful. Do you remember who spoke the words, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me!”?
Next, do not confuse losing hope with being in despair. Despairing of the future is an all-too-familiar experience for the human heart. When our hurt-filled feelings overwhelm our positive expectations, we enter into despair. However, this is not the same as losing hope. Our pain may temporarily cloud our view of the promised land, but desperation cannot dissipate faith. Hope is deep-rooted. Real hope rises out of our relationship to that in which we place our highest trust. As long as we know that our god (whether that is the God of Abraham and Jesus or the power of life itself) walks with us and wants the best for us, hope will continue. Again, the clouds of despair may obscure hope, but the light will return. Our hope will rise from the darkness. Do not confuse despair with losing hope.
Third, stay authentic with your feelings. Acknowledge and claim them. Do not make more or less of them than they deserve. A momentary disappointment is not a sentence to a lifetime of failure. Deep anger is not a permanent declaration of war. A burning sense of shame or guilt is not a final judgment on our value and worth as human beings. They are indications of a disruption in our lives at this moment and under these circumstances. Stay in the “now” with them. Keep your responses tied to these feelings, and this moment. Keep them authentic and real. Do not allow your lament to exaggerate, catastrophize, or minimize your situation.
Lastly, be aware of how your lament is touching those around you. If you are hurting others, step away from them. Mitigate your outward expressions. If others are following you into your lament, leaning on your experiences rather than their own, move away and give them space for their lament. Beware of the “Job’s friends” around you who will try to explain away your feelings or encourage you to “not feel this way. Often, these folks are more interested in avoiding their pain than they are in dealing with yours. If you are unsure of how others are responding to your lament, seek out a safe place to express yourself. However, if others are sitting with you, without judgment, and offering a caring presence without a lot of words, keep them close. They are real friends who have your best interests at heart.
I close this self-care note with some wisdom from my Dad. He was a greater believer is planting by the moon. He would only plant certain crops by the “dark of the moon.” He believed that this gave the seeds more of what they needed to grow into a healthy garden.
I believe that the seeds of hope are best planted in the darkness of lament. Those small seeds, smaller even than a mustard seed, will have what they need to grow into great hope. The night will give the seed the humility to sprout new life. It will allow the seed the room to imagine and see life as it could be. The darkness will teach the seed to live “as if.” Not all seeds planted, even in the dark of the moon, will sprout. But those seeds that do take root will sustain us when the darkness gathers once again.
These are days lament. The losses will continue to accumulate, and painful feelings will stir “soulquakes” deep within ourselves and those around us. Let’s give each other room to lament. Avoid rushing each other through our lamentations. Sit patiently with one other. Allow these days to be an opportunity for seeing the best of the human spirit as it reveals hope.
My prayers and thoughts are with you.
Blessings,
Bob
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