Wednesday, April 17, 2013

On Boston, On Grief


I've seen a number of responses this week to the Boston Marathon bombings. Some have given me hope. Others have annoyed me or worse.  In the face of such tragic events we often grapple with big questions- why did this happen? How can we prevent it again? Or perhaps the more theological questions- Where was God in Boston? Why does God let bad things happen?  Those are important questions, and while I suppose I could add my voice to the wrestling with God that we are all doing, that isn't what THIS post is about.   Rather, I want to comment on what seems to be healthy, unhealthy, helpful and unhelpful responses that are going around.

1)      Stop Saying “Don’t be afraid; That’s letting them win”
While I understand the idea that we want to continue with our lives and not be paralyzed and defeated by violence, I also want to just say, “no, it is OK to be afraid.”   Fear is normal, and bombs and violence are scary.  So if you are afraid it is OK. It’s OK to voice that. It is OK to feel grief.  It’s OK. 
What many people don’t understand is that for the running community, this has felt like an attack on all of us.  Boston is an Icon.  People run for years to be able to qualify for Boston.  But even more than that races are joyful and life-giving events.  Beauty happens there. Strangers show up at the crack of dawn to volunteer and hand out water or to hold up funny signs and ring cow bells.  Runners stop and pick each other up when we fall.  We meet total strangers at mile 21, 22… and we say to each other when we’re getting weak to keep going.  Sometimes we run for charity. In the past, I've run to grieve the loss of a friend.   What many non-runners don’t know is that, for many of us, running is sacred.  For me it’s a sort of mobile meditation. I breathe; I am free. I feel closer to God when I run.  I “process” my life, my joys, my hurts, my grief, my dreams -all when I run.   Running is as much of a spiritual practice for me as Sunday morning worship (and I’m a minister!).  So to be honest, an attack on the running community is an attack on my spirituality.  I don’t plan on “letting them win” and I will keep running marathons.  But I do feel grief, and that’s OK.  I feel a slight bit of hesitancy to ask my family to come be spectators, maybe not full “fear” but hesitancy, and that’s OK.  Rather than asking people to deny their feelings, I would call us to do what we runners do best- to persevere.  We feel the urge to quit sometimes; yet we persevere.   I chose to live, even in the midst of darkness, fear or grief.
 
2)      Yes, these things DO happen in other countries all the time.
I want to acknowledge that and to be honest about the fact that yes, we are desensitized to that, and we should be just as outraged about the bombings that people face daily.  We should (and some of us are) be just as outraged at the violence that innocence people experience at the hands of our own US foreign policy.   That doesn't mean we can’t grieve the loss of safety here though.  My deepest hope is that we would live in a world where people in these countries can also hold marathons and not be at risk of violence.  It doesn't mean we can’t grieve our own loss.  It isn't an ‘either /or’ kind of thing, we can do both.

What I think would be healthy right now:
Look for the light: In my faith’s sacred text it says “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:5).  It doesn't say that the darkness isn't there or that the darkness is defeated but rather that there is light, and the darkness does not overcome it.  The darkness does not win.   Hold onto that hope.
Turn off the TV (not a bad idea in general actually):  go for a walk or run, do yoga, get coffee with a friend, drink green tea, plant something in your garden.   Just don’t watch traumatic images over and over again.  There is a difference between processing your feelings and reliving a trauma.  When I went through a traumatic experience it did help to talk about what I was feeling. It did NOT help to retell the story and relive the events and details of that night over and over again.   If you want to keep up with updates in the news, avoid looking at graphic imagery.
Do something: do something to help those in Boston and all over the world who are victims of senseless violence.   Advocate. Give. Work.    Shine the light in the darkness.   Pray, Love, hold each other in the Light.