Kardia Kaiomenē: The Cry

Black Mustard glowing in SoCal.

"A cry is emitted whenever the throat is constricted or insufficient breath remains to form words, or else the anguish is so great that the words of the story are temporarily forgotten. The cry is nonetheless a sound, a residue of voice. It is the desperate desire to have a voice. And because soul denotes the inseparability of self from others, the world, and the Infinite, it bemoans not only the imminent demise of self, but that of the other, the world, and the Eternal. It is, in brief, an expression of existential grief, the anguished sigh of lost love.

It becomes crucial, then, that depression not be anesthetized or extinguished. Rather, we should listen to it. If it has been silenced by those who declare it a “disorder,” we are compelled to assist it in reclaiming its voice. And what if even the cry has ceased, or the sigh is no longer discernible? Might there be a form of depression, especially in societies demanding cheerfulness and compliant productivity, that no longer exhibits the expected mood?"—Dr. Bruce Rogers-Vaughn in “Blessed are Those Who Mourn: Depression as Political Resistance”

We honor our friend and elder Bruce Rogers-Vaughn who is retiring from Vanderbilt Divinity School in Nashville this month. He wrote an amazing book a few years ago called Caring for Souls in a Neoliberal Age. In it, he writes about being a psychotherapist for the past thirty+ years and bearing witness to major differences in the way clients are navigating the world now compared to the 1990's. One aspect is a deep-seated depression that so many of us are experiencing. Family, economic, social, political and religious systems are more disorganized, dysfunctional and destructive than ever. And our souls are paying a heavy price for it.

Reading Bruce's work is permission giving. We can embrace our grief for what it is: normal. The spiritual goal is to let the depression lead us instead of numbing, repressing or running away from it. Because it is trying to tell us something about what is happening within us and all around us. There are good reasons for why we feel lonely, anxious, angry, not good enough, unmotivated, overwhelmed, exhausted. The powerful forces that organize (and often control) our lives are making us feel these ways. As the women of We the People of Detroit say: it's not our fault, but it is our fight. The soul struggle starts with stopping and sensing. We know something is desperately wrong with our world. We are not alone in what we feel.

About eight years ago, I (Tom) felt really angry after an interaction with someone I really love. All I wanted to do was go for a long run and scream. Lindsay asked me tenderly: is that really what you need? As it turns out, it wasn't. I needed to breathe and stay connected to my feelings and listen for what they were trying to tell me. I needed to give space for my tears. When I did, the cry came out. My anger was asking me to examine myself. It was pointing out some of my old destructive patterns. They ways I instinctually attempt to out-run or out-perform my feelings. My anger was also reminding me that some of my relationships are really unhealthy. So many people in my life are really hurting and they cope in counterfeit ways too. Most are not in a process of healing and recovery. This truth calls me to compassion. My anger gave me agency and permission to love myself enough to build in boundaries and margin. I didn't have to keep crossing boundaries by taking responsibility for others people's stuff (just another way I've mastered running from my own). I could stop committing to everything. I could be less obligated, guilted, confused, depleted. More clear, responsible, present and free.

A couple of years ago, I was telling this story to a dear friend of mine. He resonated deeply. He told me about how his parents would make him "run it out" when he was acting out at the dinner table. He would have to run to Taco Bell and return with a receipt to prove it. Our parents were doing the very best that they could with what they had--in a world coming apart at the seams, counterfeited by the codes of capitalism, racism and militarism (what Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King called "the giant triplets of evil").

We are moving into a strange pseudo-post-pandemic wilderness. What are we supposed to do? Who are we supposed to trust? Where can we find clarity and support? What can we do to tend these feelings of pain, trauma and grief? We are sitting with these questions and trying to make daily decisions so we can be present to our pain, and also the pain of others. More than ever, we are realizing that the work of soul accompaniment requires that we press the pause button on many activities--even good and beautiful activities--that beckon us to have a busier life. The cry of our souls is desperate to have a voice. We cannot listen if we continue at a pace too harried to hear. We will never be able to out-run it. Increasingly, stumblingly, two steps forward/one step back, we are learning to fall in love with ourselves and everything else there is enough not to want to.

We hold you in our hearts during this month on the banks of the Huron River.