Finding Trust in Times of Uncertainty and Moral Ambiguity: Reflections of a Death Awareness Educator

B’yado afkid ruhi, b’et ishan v’a-irah. V’im ruhi g’viyati Adonai li v’lo irah.

A Confession of Faith

This last stanza of the Adon Olam prayer translates roughly as, “Into your hand [G!d] I entrust my spirit, when I sleep and when I am awake; and along with my spirit, my body as well. You are with me, I shall not fear.” This has been my morning mantra prayer for many years. For me, it is a statement of faith and surrender: Not knowing what the day will bring, unto you, Holy One, I entrust body and spirit, day and night. In the face of uncertainty, I shall not fear. Being a non-theist—i.e. relating to G!d as an impersonal force—I understand this as a way of aligning with Spirit that animates all life. Come what may, I shall choose to avoid falling into fear of the unknown. This short prayer helps me stay connected to a sense of hope, purpose, and vision in life. As a result, I have been able to share with others the harvest of my life’s calling as a death awareness educator, grief counselor, spiritual director, and author. 

A Confession of Doubt

And yet, I have to say that these days, it has been challenging to affirm hope and clarity of vision amid the complexity of what is taking place in the United States and Canada, Israel and Palestine, and throughout the world. As a Jew, I am living with a gnawing and intense moral ambiguity regarding all that has been unfolding in the Middle East since October 7, 2023. Living in America today, there are so many conflicting feelings about the state of this country. I sense a low-level dysthymia, a subterranean sadness among friends, colleagues, clients, and students. With war in Israel and Gaza, Ukraine, resurgent antisemitism, American isolationism and nativism, and the unraveling of progressive values and institutions—all is not right with the world. People are distressed, sad, anxious, and angry, feeling disenfranchised and on the verge of despair. 

Under such circumstances, it is harder to surrender and entrust body and spirit, day and night, to live without fear in the face of uncertainty. My Adon Olam mantric prayer sometimes feels insufficient in the face of what is unfolding these days. 

So What Do I Have to Go On?

Not wanting to fall into despair or apathy, I have been searching for my voice in the din and clatter of the daily news cycle. For over fifty years, my work has focused on Tikkun HaNefesh more than Tikkun Olam—healing and transformation of the individual more than societal transformation. By nature, I am not inherently an activist. For some, writing postcards, calling government representatives, and attending political demonstrations provide a sense of connection and power in response to the political angst of our era. For me, as a psychotherapist, spiritual director, and educator, my personal and professional style has always focused on supporting people in discovering individual fulfillment, relational and family harmony, and spiritual connection. I have logged untold hours comforting the bereaved, assisting people to find solace and meaning in the face of death, grief, and life’s losses. 

Given the unpredictable and rapid changes taking place every day, what is the best way to live life without careening between the polarities of denial and despair, either head in the sand or lying in bed under the covers? 

The resource I draw upon is my experience as a grief counselor. Over many years my focus has been to help people transform the depth of pain we carry as a result of life’s transitory nature. Buddha did say that life is suffering, and while that is not the whole story, it seems accurate. People live and die, and as my son as a ten-year-old once said to me: “Abba, shit happens!” 

Five Principles for Survival in Apocalyptic Times

I have identified five principles that emerge from the work of nichum avelim, accompanying the bereaved through the grief journey.  What I articulate below is how these principles can also be applicable as both a coping strategy and for dealing with the geopolitical complexity of our times.

Principle #1) Truth-Telling 

When there is a death, one needs to accept the reality of the loss. If the death is sudden or tragic, it can take a while for a person to emerge out of the fog of the shock, to let in the reality that a loved one has died. The quintessential Jewish ritual for accepting the reality of death is when mourners put shovelfuls of earth upon a coffin, and the reverberating sound screams out: “Death is real!”

In our time, we are living through the death of a dream. Whether it is the dream of America being the world’s bastion of democracy and the melting pot of multiculturalism, or the post-World War II belief that, after the Holocaust and the founding of the State of Israel, Jews can be safe in the world. Not to catastrophize, but these two realities are no longer guaranteed. Life has changed radically. We do not know how this story will play out. 

As a therapist-in-training, I was taught to honor the resistance, and for some people, denial, or even dissociation, may be necessary for a time—an effective coping mechanism. But hearing the earth hit the coffin, looking at how the past months have unfolded in North America, Europe, the Middle East, and the rest of the world, we need to tell ourselves the name of the game has changed and ask: Now what? How are we going to proceed?

Principle #2) Experience the Feelings of Loss

In relationships, we naturally form attachments with parents, siblings, spouses, other family members, and friends. Death severs the connection, and that is often painful. I have heard grief described as “the rope burns left behind when what we have held to most dearly is pulled out of reach, beyond our grasp.” And in the wake of death, a complex range of feelings emerge—sadness, grief, anger, confusion, guilt, and a variety of other conflicted emotions.  

Recovery from the death of a loved one requires acknowledging the multi-dimensional feelings of grief. Experiencing feelings of loss is part of the process one goes through during the week of Shiva, the eleven months of Kaddish (for a parent), and at times of Yahrzeit and Yizkor. Our traditions are designed to help people feel their feelings so they can move beyond them to accept the reality of death and to find new ways to live once again.

Given the uncertainty in the socio-political sphere these days, people are experiencing emotions similar to those catalyzed after a death. But here, I am seeing more anger, outrage, powerlessness, and despair.  In my counseling work the past month or so, some people are talking about their psycho-physiological overwhelm. Life in this country is changing: this is real. As in grief after a death, denial may be a good coping mechanism. But honoring the pain of one’s loss is important. 

I believe we need to be able to identify and talk about our personal feelings and how they are connected to our familial and cultural stories of grief, without necessarily indulging in constant political lament and complaint. I recognize this is problematic, therapeutically. In grief recovery work, people have to feel their pain to be able to let it go. This world situation is new to us. We are uncertain where this is going, but early signs are not hopeful. We need activists and advocates, and for many this is an efficacious strategy. But at the psychological level, we need to honor our emotions so we can claim personal power and integrity, which is what emerges out of healthy grief recovery. 

Principle #3) Aspire to Small Victories

When in the thick of the grief journey, people can feel tired, lethargic, depressed and unmotivated. I have often spoken with bereaved folks who can barely take care of mundane things like shopping, cooking, cleaning house, getting a car inspected, etc.  These tasks all seem onerous. 

I encourage people to strive for “small victories.” After losing a spouse, parent, or G!d forbid a child, one cannot rebuild life overnight. But what are the small incremental things one can take on? Calling a plumber, cooking a soup, reconnecting with an old friend, or cleaning an unused corner of the house to make room for a new project. Sometimes these seemingly small acts help build new pathways out of the density of grief.

Despite what is taking place in the broader world, each person has their own small, local task list to create order, meaning, and connection in their lives and in their homes. You may not be able to resolve the immigration problem nor effect changed policy regarding climate, but what can you do today to allow you to feel some sense of agency? On a “blue Monday” when the anxious, angry feelings are present, what “small victory” can you accomplish in your immediate local life? 

Principle #4) Find Your Allies

My teacher Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi used to say, “The way we are going to get it together is together.” Walking the mourner’s path, people need others to accompany them on the journey. Shiva is a public ritual, we say Kaddish in a Minyan of 10 people: most of our Jewish mourning practices are collective, not solo.

We need a “posse” of at least 4-5 people (extraverts naturally find more) with whom we can check in regularly. In describing the Hero’s Journey, Joseph Campbell writes of finding allies on the hero’s path. Dorothy on her way to Oz is accompanied by the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman, and the Cowardly Lion. It may be a long and winding road, the flying monkeys may show up. To avoid despair, we need others who can empathize with and companion us on this sometimes frightful, winding road.

Principle #5) Radical Self-Care in Dark Times

Sometimes recovery from grief can be a circuitous and arduous journey. I help my clients create their tool kit for self-care. Meditation, spiritual practices, physical self-care, proper sleep and diet, and seeing medical practitioners as needed are among the required staples. Above all, I help people cultivate an attitude of “radical” self-care. Take this seriously! Your process of moving from grief to recovery, if you are to get to the other end of the journey of loss, requires it. As Rabbi Hillel has said: “If I am not for myself, who will be for me?”

This fifth principle seems so essential for these times. I cannot say it more simply that this: In the face of the proliferation of totalitarian and anti-democratic governments, omnipresence of climate catastrophe,  and senseless war and human suffering, we need to remain focused on spiritual and physical self-care. Consider leveling up your spiritual practices: add meditation, prayer, exercise, and a news fast! Radical self-care in dark times can help us reconnect with our capacity for resilience, for each of us individually, and as both a Jewish community and as a planetary civilization. 

These principles are both prescriptive and aspirational. Try it for yourself and see what works.

In the final analysis, I come back to Psalm 23, which is recited at the Jewish funeral: “Though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil, for you are with me.” I will hold my commitment to life, to transformation and human unity, and I will invite Spirit into my life both day and night. This is the inspiration I reach for in these dark times. This works for me, and I find that it is much more effective than wallowing in the despair of the latest news cycle.

B’yado afkid ruhi, b’et ishan v’a-irah. V’im ruhi g’viyati Adonai li v’lo irah.

WP Twitter Auto Publish Powered By : XYZScripts.com
Send this to a friend