This series of posts, Lessons in Shock, is being written in response to life in a world defined by our experience with the coronavirus. However, this is not just about dealing with the threat of Covid-19. This moment, like any, needs our integrated knowledge to be put to use. And this moment, like any, is an opportunity to rise up, fueled by the raging fires of who we seek to be, rooted in the magma of our ongoing creational potential. This moment, if we make it so, is about choosing life. I’m choosing to write about shock because, in the world I see right now, shock is the biggest threat to that choice.
My grandmother died in a Connecticut flood in 1982. She was at a wedding and, despite the terrible storm raging that night, she made repeated attempts to get home. When she could not find a way in her own car, she enlisted help at the nearby fire station. She died when the town vehicle attempted to go drive over the Roaring Brook overpass and was swept into the raging waters. The young driver spent the night with her dead body by his side until he was rescued the next morning.
Emotional shock insists on normalcy. It insists on doing the thing you planned to do before reality changed. It is so insistent on that normalcy that it will convince those around you, people who should know better. In that insistence, shock will use whatever tools are available. My grandmother was a teacher at the high school in this small town – beloved and respected. Whether she pressured that young man directly, or he simply deferred to her well-earned authority, her insistence won. And lost her her life.
On a good day, shock buys us a time. “This can’t be happening!” is a signal that I’m on overload and I need some kind of spaciousness in order to integrate, calibrate, and adjust to reality. Shutting down and temporary denial can serve that purpose, just like it’s necessary that we sleep even in crisis and war zones.
Insisting on normalcy doesn’t buy us time or integration. It shutters our attention, decreases our maturity, and puts us at war with reality itself. Here’s the spoiler: reality wins.
Do what you need to decrease your panic, reach for comfort, and reassure yourself. Yes, do that. Even better, reach for the normalcy of laughter, of love, of simply feeling the caress of a breeze – even when the moment or the future is looking dire.
But don’t let shock convince you to paper over reality with normalcy. Instead, let shock wake you up to the new normal. The quicker we are to choose the life we are in, the better chance we have of making it a normal worth having.