A fish lays on the bottom of the boat, just landed. The tail flaps hard, trying to force gills into working. The mouth, shredded by the hook, opens and closes like a slowing metronome. The fish’s entire body is sucking air.
A year and a half later, I still don’t know which was worse—the betrayal or the loss of meaningful work. What I do know is that it was messy. Gill went to anger on my behalf and I withdrew. I’d run early in the morning and avoid mid-day walks. “Everyone will wonder why I’m not at work,” and worse yet, “They know and they’ll ask me about it,” and even worse yet, “They know and they think she made a good choice.” My mind, in flight mode, on repeat.
There are millions of people who have lost jobs and loved ones in the past year. I am one of the fortunate. My family is healthy. I have a home and I’m well-fed. I’ve found work that is generative. That makes me one of the blessed, I know.
But, I didn’t think I’d get here. There was Big Loss and there were countless micro-losses—no routine, no conversations about classroom instruction, no students walking into my office, no work stories at the end of the day. I was in the final semester of an administrative leadership program when I was laid off. The plan I had made with my boss just a couple of weeks prior? Out the window. I was stuck in my anger and hurt. This went on for months.
One day, I tell Gill that I want to see a psychologist, that the DSM-5 code on my superbills from the therapist just doesn’t make sense to me. In keeping with her ways, Gill was all in. (I neglected to tell her that I wasn’t sure if insurance would cover this but she forgave me for this oversight.)
After hours of testing, the psychologist handed it to me like a gift—F43.12 PTSD, chronic—a diagnosis I could have received as a young person, that’s how far it went back. My dear friend, Bill, told me when he brought me a meal a month out from the email, “You’ve suffered a major trauma, Kris. You need healthy food.” And, yes, it was painful but losing a beloved job was pain on top of old trauma. My actions post job loss—avoiding certain sidewalks, looking for a particular car in the parking lot and wondering if I’d see her, shoving my professional library into boxes in the basement—it all began to make sense.
And, once it made sense, things began to shift. “Shift Happens!” Indeed. I began to move towards people instead of hightailing it the other way. I came to terms with the fact that my life was heading in a new direction.
Vivek Murthy, the 19th Surgeon General of the United States and Co-chair of Biden’s COVID-19 Advisory Board, has written a book for our times, “Together. The Healing Power of Human Connection in a Sometimes Lonely World.” We are social creatures and we suffer when we experience disconnection and loneliness. Job loss, isolation due to COVID, death of loved ones, school closures—this is our collective struggle and it belongs to me, to you, to the person we pass so carefully on the sidewalk. Murthy says, “Meditation, prayer, art, music, and time spent outdoors can all be sources of solitary comfort and joy. Help and be helped. Service is a form of human connection that reminds us of our value and purpose in life. Giving and receiving, both, strengthen our social bonds—checking on a neighbor, seeking advice, even just offering a smile to a stranger six feet away, all can make us stronger.” Connection is elusive when we are hurting and withdraw. Let’s carry each other.
It took time and a readiness for connection for me to move on. Quite honestly, though, I’m not as “moved on” as I think I am. Pretty darn hard to write this all down. “Then why, Kris?” Because there are many people who have experienced loss. I am not alone. You are not, either. Together is the way forward.
I leave you with a meditation by Vivek Murthy.
“Right now, the world you are inheriting is locked in a struggle between love and fear. Fear manifests as anger, insecurity, and loneliness. Fear eats away at our society, leaving all of us less whole, so we teach you that every healthy relationship inspires love, not fear. Love shows up as kindness, generosity, and compassion. It is healing. It makes us more whole. The greatest gift to ever receive will come through these relationships. The most meaningful connections may last for a few moments, or for a lifetime, but each will be a reminder that we were meant to be a part of one another’s lives, to lift one another up, to reach heights together, greater than any of us could reach on our own. Our hope is that you will always have friends in your lives who love and remind you of your innate beauty, strength, and compassion. Equally as important, we hope you will do the same for others. It pains us that we won’t always be there for you when you feel lonely and sad, but we offer this simple prescription to remind you, you are loved. When those moments of loneliness and suffering arise, take both your hands and place them on your heart and close your eyes. Think about the friends and family who have been there for you throughout your life, in moments of joy, and also in the depths of disappointment, the people who have listened to you when you were sad, the people who believed in you, even when you lost faith in yourself, the people who have held you up, lifted you, and seeing you for who you really are. Feel their warmth and their kindness washing over you, filling you with happiness. Now, open your eyes.”
― Vivek H. Murthy, Together: Why Social Connection Holds the Key to Better Health, Higher Performance, and Greater Happiness