I’m mourning a loss right now, and I don’t quite agree with Epictetus.
We will not be troubled at any loss, but will say to ourselves on such an occasion: “I have lost nothing that belongs to me; it was not something of mine that was torn from me, but something that was not in my power has left me.” Nothing beyond the use of our opinion is properly ours. Every possession rests on opinion. What is to cry and to weep? An opinion. What is misfortune, or a quarrel, or a complaint? All these things are opinions; opinions founded on the delusion that what is not subject to our own choice can be either good or evil, which it cannot. By rejecting these opinions, and seeking good and evil in the power of choice alone, we may confidently achieve peace of mind in every condition of life.
Reason alone is good, and the irrational is evil…. The good person should labour chiefly on their own reason; to perfect this is in our power. To repel evil opinions by the good is the noble contest in which humans should engage; it is not an easy task, but it promises true freedom, peace of mind, and a divine command over the emotions.
I agree that life is transient and we can’t really possess anything. Losses happen. But I don’t believe reason alone is good, and I have no desire to have a “divine command” over my emotions. I’m assuming by reason he’s talking about our conscious minds, and I learned long ago that my conscious mind isn’t running anything. My subconscious has most of the power, and it behooves me to make friends with it, to listen to it and hopefully influence it to change its actions and opinions. But a “divine command” is laughable.
I also disagree that there is no evil in the world besides our being irrational — I think there are plenty of things that can stand improvement. We might not have much power, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to make some things better.
So what does this have to do with mourning? For me Epictetus is closer to the mark when he says,
Every difficulty in life presents us with an opportunity to turn inward and invoke our own submerged resources. Try not to merely react in the moment. Pull back from the situation. Take a wider view; compose yourself.
Now that’s something I can relate to. So I’ve been writing in my journal, doing some Gendlin Focusing, and using a technique for mourning/letting go. It involves associating the loss more with the warm/happy feelings one had with the thing or person lost than with the sad/painful feelings. It’s not a matter of reasoning with ourselves, it’s changing the way the subconscious views it.
And, of course, it’s important to appreciate all the things we still have. They, also, won’t last forever.
How do you mourn your losses?
March 9, 2015
for you to even write about it here means it has hurt you.
and i cannot quite glibly accept the words of epictetus so easily either.
i rather feel it’s like what they now understand about loss. of any kind really.
the different stages we go through. perhaps that comes closer. there is truth in it.
we control or try to control so much in our lives.
but loss.
of whatever the kind comes. it is not to be controlled.
and i think it’s kind of like a storm. you just ride it out. and it finally subsides.
and it goes to a place of acceptance. and then something like joy comes again.
that’s what i have found anyway.
so much love to you my monk.
That is so beautifully said & so true.
tammy,
Thank you so much. This was a little loss, nothing compared to all of yours. But something I enjoyed has gone away, and I wanted it nicely tucked on the shelf with my other good memories and not tinged with sadness. I’m now free me to explore what I want to do next.
For me the greatest loss was losing my wife of 40 years who was my friend for eight years before that. I still miss her but am not morbid about the loss. We had forty very good years together and she has left behind a lot of memories and people who remember her with great affection. I have moved on.
Mine didn’t require as much mourning, so I just sped up the moving on part.
I miss my friends that I’ve lost. Is that mourning? One close friend at home before my marriage just died, but that was all by email.
I like to think I Miss the kids & our life here. Mourning would be painful.
I’m going to try one more stab at keeping away from my computer. Kiss,kiss,hug,hug ILoveu (that’s for Computer). There’s so much to be done. LOVE
it depends on the loss!
I might rant and rave – one of my previous flatmates that knew me well told another friend “if she is swearing do not go anywhere near her, because whatever the problem is “it will be your fault” – wait until there is silence for say 5mins and then innocently amble in and ask her “how it’s going?” – do not and I repeat do not go to the angry bird during the rant, even if it turns out to be your fault”
Or I might spend a week or two looking serious, that can serious consequences for someone who might say “where’s your happy face” which leads to above. Some people never learn to keep their trap shut 🙂
Or I ran away for the day – I usually come home feeling a lot better, as I have personally reset my world to rights in my own way…
Or…
“It depends on the loss.” Amen to that!
Mostly be expressing the loss.
That’s important.
Why pretend to control what we feel.
Sounds like a mind game to me.
I’ve had a lot of losses in my life, big and small.
When I was young and lost my Mom, we were told not to speak of her.
So I blocked it out and tried to “control” my emotions.
That can only go on for so long, that kind of denial.
I was good at pretending, for decades. But finally that grief broke through the hard shell I had built around that part of my mind.
So NOW how do I mourn a loss?
I wallow in it.
I cry, no I SOB.
I talk about it.
I write about it.
I THINK about it.
I HONOR the memory and cherish it and let it run freely through me.
I make no attempt to pretend that I can control my feelings.
and it helps me let go and move on.
Nothing is worse than not grieving properly and pretending it has not taken a little piece of you.
That’s a horrible thing to tell a kid! When my (adult) sister-in-law was attending my father-in-law’s memorial service with her mother she started to cry, and her mother told her to stop because people would think she was weird. The SIL had already been diagnosed with the MS that eventually killed her, but the MIL had been raised in a different culture.
I agree with Cathy, it depends on the person and on the loss. I cried buckets before and after my father died. And I had trouble eating for six months after my mother died. I can still tear up when I think of them, but they’re tears of deep affection rather than sadness.