How many of us are really fully aware of what we are feeling right now? We call it stress and find it difficult to determine how to best become more energised.
Modern day leadership and society expects us to be emotionally intelligent and agile. And yet, how much of these feelings can be expressed publicly without being labelled a mental health crisis – where in fact they might be just a normal variety of emotions.
The long lockdowns in Australia have brought up a mix of emotions for everyone – different ones in different people. Not everyone though notices what’s really going on for them personally. Many feel a type of sadness that can’t be easily explained. US researcher and professor Kenneth Doka labelled this type of feeling as disenfranchised grief. It is a loss that is not openly acknowledged, socially validated or publicly mourned.
We are facing many intangible losses, e.g., vacations and milestone events that had to be cancelled, lost time with people we love, and many small losses that hurt and cause disappointment. We lost certainty, control, community, safety, independence and sometimes dignity. Yet not many realised and dealt with the resulting emotions effectively. A lot got stuffed away and was ignored. These bottled-up emotions show up as tension in your body and sometimes even as health issues. Unresolved emotions drain your energy.
With lockdowns slowly coming to an end, it might be a good time to reflect and release some of these emotions. There are different ways how we can release these emotional tensions: some people meditate, some do yoga and body scanning, some write extensive journals, some hit pillows or punching bags, some run, some talk, some cry.
If you are a leader of a team or community, you might want to consider how you can support this grieving process in a way that serves the individuals, your group and your shared way of being together. Start with your own release process first and then create a safe space for others to do it as well. Grieving is possible online but needs some good facilitation and coaching skills. Offline obviously would be a preferred way of dealing with it but that might still take a while for most.
As western societies, we have mostly forgotten how to grieve in a way that supports physical release for a whole community as well. Indigenous people knew how to deal with it more naturally.
I experienced this type of natural energy flow between people and their environment about ten years ago when I went to an Indigenous gathering in northern Australia. The Yolgnu women in Arnhem Land had invited our group to be part of one of their ceremonies.
In the early morning, before sunrise, we all went out into the bush and sat on the ground next to a cliff. It was very dark and once everyone had settled and was quiet, the women started singing. This song morphed into a sort of crying and loud sobbing. The sounds deeply touched my body and heart. Once the sun rose, they stopped. The birds started singing and everyone slowly walked back to their tent and campfire. The ceremony felt complete.
It was a powerful experience where everyone felt like one being, in some way like one body, and strongly connected to the land. The emotions associated with the crying just swept through everyone, clearing away blockages and opening up an empty space for something new.
It took me a while to start to understand what had happened and what the purpose of this ceremony might be. We didn’t get a lot of explanations before we attended. We only knew it would be a ‘crying ceremony’. The experience partly spoke for itself, while some of my questions were answered over the next few days and some only years later.
From my perspective today, I would explain it this way: The crying ceremony is a type of community service. The women channel the grief and distress of the whole community and clear it away from the system to make space for new, positive emotions to arise.
What’s your way of grieving and releasing emotional tension?
Stay well.
Naturally yours,
Ingrid