Helene Aftermath: Real Work

Many of my friends and clients have been sharing that, as the recovery efforts here in Western North Carolina progress, they are feeling guilt, sadness, and a sense that their contributions are not “real”.

“I’m just grieving and crying, I haven’t been able to volunteer.”

“I’ve only been hosting families in my properties, I haven’t been able to get on the ground and help.”

“I’m only able to volunteer one shift a week.”

“I keep donating money but that’s all I’m doing.”

“I’m only now getting my head around the losses and realizing how I can contribute.”

“I’m only contributing as a parent/a therapist/a barista/a lawyer/a cook/a teacher…other people are doing the REAL work.”

We all know, cognitively, that there are people suffering in the world. But when the reality of it is so starkly visible, when we can SEE the contrast between the relative ease of our own lives and the struggles of others, something has to change in us to make sense of it.

One obvious danger is that we might, to relieve the cognitive dissonance, other the people we see hurting to make ourselves more comfortable with their pain. This might sound like inner dialogue along the lines of that would never happen to me because I am in the right political party/ make the right choices about how I spend my money or time/ don’t treat other people the way they do. In a sense, our brains are wired to form in-groups and out-groups, so we have to be extremely mindful of our own values and, when we notice this happening, gently name it as othering and remind ourselves how we want to show up instead.

The terrible, uncomfortable truth is that no one is immune to disaster, no matter how loving we are, or how carefully we prepare, or how much we meditate or pray. When our brains try to make others wrong to alleviate the pain of this knowledge, it’s important to notice this and to lean into compassion. This disaster has shown us how very interconnected we all are, how deeply we all rely upon each other. The wellbeing of others IS your wellbeing.

Another, more subtle danger is that we begin to other ourselves. That’s what I’m noticing in these “real work” conversations. There is a difference between a genuine desire to learn a new skill, to channel your energy toward helping by learning wilderness first aid or community organizing or carpentry— and the impulse to denigrate the power of your own actions or the relative value of your selfhood. When you diminish the importance of the actions you are taking, you remove yourself just as thoroughly from the interdependence conversation as if you had othered someone else.

We are all facing the reality that there are limits to our time, our energy, our courage—and no one of us could possibly do everything it will take to collectively heal. We can’t do this alone, we need each other. All of us.

It can be easy to quail in the face of what is needed and either work ourselves into burnout or decide not to act at all because who we are, what we have to offer, is not enough. We can’t afford either.

Wendell Berry has this to say about Real Work:

It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.

Bertolt Brecht famously wrote: Grub before ethics. If you are hungry, tired, grief-stricken, that’s your work. Eat. Rest. Grieve.

If you are feeling a sense of guilt or an impulse to action, and your basic needs are met, take a moment to gently contact that feeling. Your real work is the work that is closest to the center of who you genuinely are and how you truly want to show up. Stay close to yourself. The thing impeding you is likely impeding others. Clear it away for yourself, clear it away for someone near you, and let’s go from there.

May we find our way forward together, singing around the obstacles.

Join us this Tuesday—here in Asheville or online from anywhere in the world—for an evening of story in benefit of BeLoved Asheville.