Mandela has died. He was my admired and esteemed president. He was not my father. He led my nation out of conflict. He did not raise me. He is my nation's icon, but he's not my identity. The world is in "mourning" (how many really grieve?), but my loss is not who he was, but what he was. For those close to him ... sincerely close ... the loss is trauma. For those who knew him by what he did, we feel the loss of an anchor in our society, while forgetting we've been adrift for a long time. I lost my father earlier this year, so the experience is familiar yet so completely different. With my father I grieved for the loss of what he was to me and who he was to me. Relationship makes the difference. Because of my relationship my father's death was joyful, as in his own words "it is so reassuring to die knowing where I'm going". He died well, he died into serious joy. His real relationship with the other side of death gave the confidence of knowing death for what it is. My relationship to him makes all the difference for what it means to me. And so it is with the the really big thing: life. The difference is in relationship, not merely knowing about Him.
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Why?
Probably the best therapy is to express yourself. Why do you think psychiatrists make you lie on the couch and talk, while all they do is murmur "hmmm", "uhuh", or "go on"? Archives
May 2017
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