9/11

It’s our story, the story everyone knows, the story no one will ever forget, and the story no one seems to know how to deal with. It’s the story of a great traumatic loss, grief, shock, anger, and revenge. But those of you who understand Elizabeth Kübler-Ross’s theory might be wondering, "If this is a grief process, what happened to Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance?" Good question.

When we experience a loss, we have 3 choices. Most people see only the first 2, since in our culture we tend to think in dualities and polarities. In fact, one of my favorite counseling questions is "What’s the third option?" So, the 3 choices are:

1. Try to continue to relate to the lost loved one as s/he was.
2. Try to "get over it" and move on in the loved one's absence as though s/he were never there.
3. Deal with the changed relationship and allow for new things and ways of being and relating to evolve from it.

The first 2 are ways of compensation, and will lead to dysfunction. The third is a way of enhancement that can lead toward fulfillment. And the way to it is the way through our fears of change.

People who are grieving are vulnerable to addiction. We may become addicted to drugs or alcohol (or food or sex or attention or shopping or racism or violence, etc.) in an attempt to hold onto the past--even if it is at the expense of losing ourselves. We may use an addiction to freeze our own feelings as a way of preventing the perceived gap in time and space between us and our loss from growing any wider or deeper. The fear of more loss is soothed by dependence on an external source of energy--even if that source leads to self-destruction. The external energy source not only provides comfort but prevents us from creating our own energy for growth and progress. It is the protruding branch on the cliff that is clung to midway down as we fall; and to which we cling desperately even though it means an end to the journey, saps our energy as it is used to maintain the grip on a present that does not change, and precludes the possibility of receiving any help from others. Indeed, it is only when we--like addicts--let go and allow ourselves to hit bottom that a way up can appear.

In a recent op-ed entitled Addicted to 9/11, Tom Friedman writes:

... this administration has become addicted to 9/11. The president has exploited the terrorism issue for political ends - trying to make it into another wedge issue like abortion, guns or gay rights - to rally the Republican base and push his own political agenda. But it is precisely this exploitation of 9/11 that has gotten him and the country off-track, because it has not only created a wedge between Republicans and Democrats, it's also created a wedge between America and the rest of the world, between America and its own historical identity, and between the president and common sense.

It’s not only this administration that has become addicted to 9/11 and terrorism, it’s a good chunk of the American population. Our addiction allows us to focus on patriotism and victimhood and blame, on anger and revenge and military mightiest, on superpowered negativity and isolation, on good vs. evil and empty abstractions, and on the illusion of control. It’s incredibly seductive... and incredibly destructive. Because when we are addicted, we are not moving forward. The addiction demands so much of our national energy, we have little to give each other, let alone the rest of the world. People at home are starving while we desperately seek our energy in Iraq–-which had nothing to do with 9/11 or terrorism, but has become connected to them because we used it to compensate for our loss and to feed our addiction. And because it is doing such a good job of that, we are able to live in denial about the catastrophic effect the war there has had on our long-cherished American values... not to mention the tens of thousands of lives it has destroyed by killing, mutilating, tormenting, or hurtling them into the dark abyss of grief.

We need to hit bottom, which entails giving up our addiction. We must find a way to begin to heal and to create our own energy and a positive vision for our country. We have lost our old vision. We are no longer the invincible, shining beacon on the hill that we thought we were... or that the world thought we were. We have succumbed to dysfunction, imbalance, negativity, blame, recklessness, and fear. We have frozen our souls. We have made mistakes. But those who don’t make mistakes don’t learn and cannot create.

The American story has always been one of learning, evolving, and moving toward the future with hope. It will be hard work, but Americans are not afraid of hard work. It will take being open to what is not yet known. We need to listen to new voices and new ideas, and we need to help each other.

When the shining beacon dims, we must all become shining beacons until we can say again, E Pluribus Unum.

Posted by Elissa Bishop-Becker at October 17, 2004 8:37 PM | TrackBack