The coronavirus was declared a global pandemic four years ago on March 11, 2020. All of life screeched to a grinding halt. Life forever changed.

We wore masks to prevent the spread of the virus. Wearing masks out in public is no longer a requirement.

My deep concern is how we continue to mask our emotional pain, grief and suffering. We were in such a hurry to move on from the pandemic that in our haste we forgot to grieve. We forgot to heal our pain.

Anxiety and depression are now the norm. Our youth who were so profoundly impacted continue to face a mental health crisis. The U.S. Surgeon General, Dr. Vivek Murphy, says we are suffering from a loneliness epidemic. Gun violence, road rage, hate crimes, bullying, intolerance and impatience are on the rise.

We never really addressed our collective grief and trauma from the pandemic. Richard Rohr said, “Pain that is not transformed continues to get transmitted.” If we don’t heal and transform our emotional pain, this unhealed pain spills out in harmful ways in our interactions and shows up in our bodies.

A friend slogging through the thick and sticky mud of grief said to me, “I’m failing at grief. I can’t stop crying. One minute I’m fine and ‘wham!’, I fall into a heap and I’m a blubbering mess.” We can’t fail at grief. It is not a test or race with winners and losers. Grief is the sacred human experience of having the courage to risk your heart in love.

Another friend shared over coffee, “I’m sorry. I’m not myself today. Life is just so hard right now. I’m really struggling. I’m not okay.” What kind of culture have we created for ourselves that we feel like we have to apologize for being human? If you feel like life is hard and you are struggling, it doesn’t mean you are doing something wrong. Life is hard. Struggling doesn’t require an apology. It requires compassion.

Our culture stigmatizes vulnerability with weakness. We put on our armor and try to impress each other with our strengths wondering why we feel disconnected and lonely. It is not our strengths that connect us. We connect through vulnerability. What we all share in common is loss and heartbreak. What we share most in common is the need for one another. Our strength is found in the courage to acknowledge we are hurting and ask for help. Asking for help is not weakness. It is the desire to be strong.

We may no longer wear physical masks but I am concerned how we continue to mask our emotional pain, grief and suffering. It’s not just the unresolved grief of the Pandemic. It’s the loss of a loved one. Cancer. Retirement. Job loss. Divorce. Suicide. Mental illness. Children in crisis. Ageing parents. War. Hate. Democracy in peril. Climate change … and the list goes on.

In our culture that attaches shame to asking for help, is it any wonder the number of angry emails has increased, our patience with each other has diminished, and the need for anxiety medication has skyrocketed?

We are in an extended period of difficult change and deep loss. It impacts all of us. It has been a hard few years. I am hurting. I suspect many of you are, too.

Instead of pretending everything’s okay, can we mark the fourth anniversary of the beginning of a global pandemic by acknowledging our collective grief and trauma? Most people are masking pain and silently suffering in some way. Can we be present to the heartache hiding behind the forced smiles? Can we recognize the shadows of grief in the eyes of our neighbors? Can we remove the stigma of shame around asking for help? Healing shows up as good people with kind hearts willing to ask, “Are you okay?” Can we be the healers for one another?

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