Personal vs Collective Pain: How are they the Same & Do They Differ?
Yesterday, before I went to the hospital to visit my daughter, I decided that I needed to take some time for myself. Probably by now, many realize that for me, a personal day does not include watching a PG rated movie, or a trip to an amusement park. I am a member of a Jewish museum which is not far from the hospital so I decided to go there, hoping to seek some comfort. This Museum had a special exhibit marking 350 years of Judaism in America, which was quite informational and organized nicely. There was also a film being shown on the Holocaust. Surrounded by individuals, at least 20-30 years older than myself, I felt that watching a movie of this type with this company would be a rewarding experience, as many surely must have had some personal connection as survivors or lost family members themselves. As the movie was showing, I heard many different sounds, including hissing, booing, spitting, and the most poignant of them all, crying. I looked around the room. As a Jew, I too cry when I see how many millions of my people were sensely murdered by the Nazis.
Somehow, the tears that were shed watching this movie and being surrounded by these individuals made me think that collective pain and personal pain must in fact be a different experience. Somehow, I have felt, all along, that by surrounding myself with the pain of the generations of my people, that I would garner strength, or by comparison, the personal pain I was feeling would not be so great. In reality, when sitting there, it can honestly be said that for me, there is a difference between personal pain, especially when a child is ill, and collective pain. Both feel raw, hitting at the deepest level of the soul, as if something inside one's heart begins to unravel, but the feelings are indeed not comparable.
My visit with my daughter went well, she hugged me, but still is in a very fragile state, and the doctors are thinking of changing some of the medication in the hopes of showing more improvement. Meanwhile, I write, read, have my Torah class tonight, and pray to find a little peace inside of all the pain.
Thank you for your minds.
Somehow, the tears that were shed watching this movie and being surrounded by these individuals made me think that collective pain and personal pain must in fact be a different experience. Somehow, I have felt, all along, that by surrounding myself with the pain of the generations of my people, that I would garner strength, or by comparison, the personal pain I was feeling would not be so great. In reality, when sitting there, it can honestly be said that for me, there is a difference between personal pain, especially when a child is ill, and collective pain. Both feel raw, hitting at the deepest level of the soul, as if something inside one's heart begins to unravel, but the feelings are indeed not comparable.
My visit with my daughter went well, she hugged me, but still is in a very fragile state, and the doctors are thinking of changing some of the medication in the hopes of showing more improvement. Meanwhile, I write, read, have my Torah class tonight, and pray to find a little peace inside of all the pain.
Thank you for your minds.
14 Comments:
It's amazing that humans have this quality of empathy for each other where feelings become contagious. On either side of the fence between groups of victims and victimizers, there is a collective psychological phenomenon known as "group think". This can have every functional outcome from the tribal mentality of protection and cooperation to a dysfunctionally senseless mob mentality. Not that I rejoice in your pain, but I hope you take comfort in the fact that feeling pain is a natural empathy in response to the terrible things that have been committed by others. "To every thing there is a season." I hope you find peace.
My parents, and myself for that matter, had to experience my brother's severe illness that ultimatly removed him from the planet.
I do not really believe very much in personal pain anymore. As long as you have any family, or at least one true friend, there is only collective pain. True friends, and family, are with you in good times as well as bad times.
Personal pain is the sort we have only to ourselves, and can be more intense, whereas collective pain can at leat be shared.
I'm glad that your visit went well. It is important to have some improvement evident, even if it's small. Like Iguana, I lost a brother - family and friends are very important. Remember to turn to them/us.
"Life is a succession of moments. To live each one is to succeed". - Corita Kent
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iguana & dddragon,
I am so sorry for your losses, and can imagine how painful it was for each of you.
Finding peace, even if molecule by molecule, is something I strive for each and every day. At times, there are sparks of light.
Hi B,
Saw your email, then system froze before I could respond; now I'm out of town but checking in briefly to let you know I'm thinking about you.
About the post: I think collective pain carries with it the (minor) comfort of company. It's still pain, but knowing that others are sharing your pain justifies it and allows you to publicly experience and express it. Personal pain -- well, there you're on your own. There is no acceptable public forum to express what you're going through; you can't expect to be surrounded by people as hurt and outraged by it as you. If you are, it's a gift, not a given. Indeed, the people surrounding you may be uncomfortable in the face of your pain, or feel helpless or fear making it worse or doing the wrong thing. They say things like, "Let me know if there's anything I can do," and slink away.
Personal pain is very lonely. I think that's why this psalm resonates so deeply with people:
"Yea, thou I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil..."
Personal pain of the magnitude you're experiencing really is like walking through that valley, all alone. :-(
I cannot even begin to imagine the hell you must be living due to your daughter being so severely ill. It is every parent's worst nightmare.
Much strength to you, your daughter and your entire family.
My friend Ricky and I have developed a saying to each other that "Your pain is no greater than mine" mainly because we 'pool' our pain together. I know I can only empathize, but the idea that we can share our pain is ingrained in us all I think collectively. It is more than, misery loves company, to me it is a process towards becoming more human, to allow another to share something so deep and personal opens one up to multitudes of possibilities. We learn to Transform the Pain into a light that informs, shows our humanity and eventually heals us when we come together,, to pat each other, stroke another's hand who is in pain. Touch is very important to pain, have you ever seen how many people in pain Do Not Want to Be Touched? I think it is because Touch is part of the 'cure', a soft hand on your shoulder sometimes is all that is needed,, or the shoulder of a friend to literally cry upon. It heals us.
I am so thankful for this post, it hit me squarely in my personal pain,, and made me see that to release the pain to the 'universe' is part of my solution. My other duty is to be more compassionate to those in pain and you have been on my mind alot lately as I ponder my own personal pains.
I pray that your family's pain is lessened each day that passes, for it is my pain also in a very real sense.
We are all part of the whole, and may we all be Blessed with the healings we wish for ourselves.
One of the best parts of being human is being part of a community. Sometimes we forget about it, but there is much to be said for it.
You were smart to take some time for yourself, keep those tears rolling when you feel the need to.
Indeed I don't think they would be nothing wring with watching a PG rated movie, choose a funny one and laugh about it. Escaping reality from time to time can be the best reality.
I continue to pray for you and your daughter, I truly do.
I remember when I was a child, being taken to see 'The Hiding Place' (Corrie Ten Boom). I've always had a sensitive nature, and I cried through about half that movie. I read the Diary of Anne Frank and I was profoundly moved. I was raised by born again Christians (and am one, myself) and we feel that the Jewish people are very special; they are God's chosen people. But Jewish or not, the inhumanities that the Nazis served on your people were hideous and unconscionable.
I read, and never forgot, the many atrocities the Nazis performed. I tell my children and others about them, because I firmly believe that if we don't know our history, it is bound to repeat itself.
I got chill bumps when I read that your daughter hugged you and the way you expressed the experience. "she hugged me" So simple to a Mother to understand I am sure. I cried. Thanks for warming my heart with your openness and allowing us into your life during such circumstances. God bless your sweet, sweet daughter. Sounds weird mayber, but kiss her forehead for me.
So many wonderful 'thinkers' in this forum! I so enjoy reading everyone's thoughts.
I feel that personal pain can only be dealt with on the inside, but that it's an important survival technique to speak of it, write of it, reveal it - thus offering it up (if you will) to become collective.
That's how I managed to deal with the loss of my lifelong, dear friend who lost her life in the WTC on 9/11. Letting others in helped me to release some of my personal pain ... collectively we could mourn together, even though I didn't "know" their families or friends, and they didn't actually "know" mine.
A personal pain unshared would be, to my thinking, damned near suicidal.
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