I am writing today with a heavy heart. Our family recently lost a beloved member, our 17 year-old dog, Molly. We knew for a week she would have to leave us. It was a decision we made with the utmost respect for her dignity and the avoidance of unnecessary suffering. As the day drew closer, the temptation to wallow in apprehension, sadness, and worry certainly presented. Stoicism helped me avoid that. Perhaps it can help you, Dear Reader, to avoid unnecessary misery and to focus on the portion of your life that is in your control.
Friday, May 10, 2024 at 5:00 p.m. was her appointment, scheduled several days in advance. In active addiction, I know how I would have spent that time. I would have attempted to block the pain, sadness, and anxiety with alcohol. It may have deadened it. It may have allowed me to leave consciousness by oblivion, but it would not have solved any problem. So, how did Stoicism help?
I had to examine the situation logically. We made the decision to let her go and we were comfortable with it. We could not go back on that because it became painful for us. To prolong Molly’s suffering to delay ours would be inhumane. Rather, we chose to suffer so she would not have to. As our suffering became more acute as we approached Molly’s appointment, the urgency to apply my principles became more important.
I considered that I no longer had any real control over her loss. I would not allow my feelings to supplant my reason. I would not become selfish to avoid my obligation to her. The appointment would remain. I would have to bend myself to that reality. I did that by recognizing I was going to lose her someday no matter what. To do it in a humane way and to allow my family to properly say goodbye and pay homage was of utmost importance to me.
We spoiled her. We loved on her. We did all her favorite things. In the face of her inevitable loss, we exercised the limited control we now had to offer tokens of our love. I did my best to remind myself that to waste any of that final week worrying and projecting myself into future sadness would be to deprive me of the happiness I owed her for the happiness she had given me
Dear Reader, you may be thinking, “Hey, this is a lot of talk about emotions, what kind of Stoic are you.” To that fair inquiry I would suggest the following: Stoicism is not a rejection of emotion. It is, to me, though, the practice of allowing emotions to have only so much influence in your life as to not create a hindrance to your growth.
Sadness and grief are negative emotions, but they have their place in our human experience. We access our humanity through our emotions, both positive and negative. To me, it is quite fair to feel sadness and grief in the face of a loss. Those emotions can be harnessed, though, to useful ends. In practice, this is how it is working for me: I first ask myself to identify the source of my sadness and grief. Here, that’s quite obvious. The departure of Molly from my life caused it. Next, I ask myself why her departure has caused me to feel this way and again I arrive at an obvious answer: I loved her. Here is where I must re-frame my inquiry. If I dwell on the fact I loved her and that she is now gone, I can spiral into sadness. What is needed is to now look at this from a different angle, or as Ross Geller might exclaim: “PIVOT!!!”
From the recognition my sadness and grief spring from the loss of something I loved, I must re-examine what made me love her—why I loved her. Inventory that. Ruminate on it. Let the positive memories and feelings bathe my thoughts. When we lose someone or something we loved, it can be helpful to consider their legacy.
For Molly, it looks like this: She gave me 17.5 years of unreserved love and affection. Asking for nothing in return, she was my loving companion. My happiness was paramount to her. I know that. She did her best to cause it. She reveled in it. It would be a profound shame to allow her departure to pollute those memories with sadness. They existed in my brain without sadness before she left. They can stay that way. I had no expectation she would live forever. I knew she wouldn’t. So, rather than focus on what I no longer have, I must remind myself of all I gained through having her when I did. This creates gratitude. It keeps me from prolonging these feelings of sadness. They can and should be allowed to pass so that only the positive memories remain. This is how I can honor her life and maintain my sobriety.
Comments