All we have to do is turn on the television, check email, or read a newspaper to discover what might be lurking in the dark shadows.
Already experiencing distorted perceptions from quarantines and lack of social interaction, we are quite susceptible to what we are being fed. One look at empty shelves in the grocery store and we panic. Brené Brown, the popular author, speaker, and research professor posed the question to an audience not long ago which serves as our headline.
She was proposing that scarcity is a collective form of Post Traumatic Stress. I think she could be right. Of course this scarcity isn't about toilet paper, hand sanitizer, or even masks and ventilators. Those things are only harbingers of something far scarier. They are triggers that tell us we are in trouble and somebody must be to blame.
The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) defines trauma quite well with this guidance;
"Individual trauma results from an event, series of events, or set of circumstances that is experienced by an individual as physically or emotionally harmful or life-threatening and that has lasting adverse effects on the individual's functioning and mental, physical, social, emotional, or spiritual well being."
Like those who suffer from PTSD, we are terrified to be vulnerable and out of control. We so want to numb-out from this fear, grief and worry when such bumpy roads appear. But while numbing pain we also numb joy until, at some point we stop feeling like we are alive. And worst of all, the problem doesn't go away even when we find a good scapegoat to fault
My mentor, Henri Nouwen, taught that where we least expect it, something is hidden that holds a promise stronger than death itself. His wisdom shines a light on the powerful notion that we are not required to be victims of trauma. Through these hard times, we might come to terms with the fact that we are mortal, that each moment of every day is sacred, and that love is more important than money or anything else for that matter. There is absolutely no reason to numb out because, contrary to what we are told, there is nothing to be terrified of and there is nobody to blame.
Years ago, I worked with a boy named Thad.
He was among several who were assigned to me for outpatient counseling. The case history I read before meeting him was awful. At 14 he had been in the system already for a decade. DCFS reported details of abuse that descended into torture.
One foster family after another came and went. He had every reason to be bitter and hopeless. But it was far from a traumatized waif who lumbered into my office and plopped in the chair across from me. Thad was a survivor who refused to look on the dark side. No matter how hard I tried to dig into his haunted places, he remained undaunted.
What was baffling was that he didn't really appear to be in denial. He seemed well grounded and able to accept and understand what life had dealt. One day he said this to me; "Bad stuff has happened to me Dr. Bob and I got hurt bad sometimes. But that's not who I am. God loves me no matter what." This youngster I came to help became my teacher.
So as we isolate in quarantine it is good to remember who we are. Though our arms ache for hugs and eyes long to see loved ones there is no need to fear or cast blame. Scarcity is only a shadow of abundance. After all, as Thad says, God loves me no matter what. And love always wins. May we be our best selves today ever-guided by our better angels.