The Good Table At Home: Cracks in the Dam

by Rev. Dr. Melinda V. McLain

Spiritual Touchstone

There was a time when all the creeks flowing into the San Francisco Bay were free. Native Ohlone people fished in them for what must have seemed like an endless supply of salmon and other fish. When the Russians, the Spanish, and people from all over the world arrived in this place, things began to change. The Ohlones were either murdered, displaced, or removed and the creeks and streams were fished without limit. Finally, during the Gold Rush, mining companies flushed enormous quantities of toxic chemicals, especially mercury from the gold fields, through the watersheds into local creeks, ending up in the San Francisco Bay.

Today there are no salmon spawning in the creeks leading to the Bay, and the coastal creek salmon populations in Northern California are at 1% of historic levels. Another lingering effect from the mercury pollution is that dams built on local creeks often sequester concentrated quantities of mercury and other toxic pollutants, so efforts to remove dams to increase salmon runs is not a simple proposition.

When the dams were built they were of great benefit to the people living nearby. But like so many human activities, there have been unintended consequences that continue to present current challenges including significant mercury and methyl mercury pollution in Northern California waterways and the San Francisco Bay. It is a grim history that is mostly unknown to local residents.

It is easy to want to just “tear down all the dams” in a desperate attempt to restore so much that has been lost. And yet, if all the dams came down tomorrow, the suddenly released chemicals would wreak unholy havoc and pollute all our watersheds immediately.

I’ve been thinking about this history as part of my own recovery from trauma I experienced early in life and all the trauma we experienced in 2020 due to a global pandemic, toxic politics, pervasive economic inequality, and a needed, but painful reckoning with racial injustice. Locally, last fall’s catastrophic fire season is now adding more trauma, as many are now back in evacuation mode due to potential flooding and mudslides near the burn scars. Plus, many of us have lost loved ones due to the virus and/or friends and family due to other causes such as cancer or old age. Tragically, all these deaths and losses have not been properly mourned because of pandemic restrictions and too many of us could not really say goodbye in person to beloved elders, family members, and friends. As a result, like the historic dams throughout Northern California, we all have accumulated previously unimaginable layers and layers of encapsulated grief.

It is common, and somewhat useful, to “dam up” and/or “compartmentalize” the effects of trauma so that we can keep functioning and caring for our families and neighbors. But this short term coping strategy can do long term damage if not tended carefully. The toxic feelings, grief, and even rage can become overwhelming if not channeled and safely addressed. More recent trauma can also release past traumatic memories.

As we begin 2021, some of the trauma we experienced in 2020 is beginning to lessen. Every time I watch another “vaccination video” or hear that a friend who works in healthcare or a beloved elder gets their shot, I find myself weeping with a mixture of grief and joy. I also feel cautiously hopeful that this long period of death, dying, destruction, and social isolation may be finally moving towards an end. This long overdue weeping for all the losses - both recent and historic - is helpful, but I also find myself beset by unspeakable sadness as all the toxic trauma begins to release.

I know how lucky I am to have survived infection with the virus last fall without any symptoms or other tragic consequences. I’m also incredibly grateful to be sheltering-in-place with my beloved spouse in a home with a big garden that is comfortable and safe. It is also an enormous privilege to have meaningful and well-compensated work that can be done mostly at home. And in addition to that economic privilege, I also benefit from being a well-educated white woman.

But even with all my blessings and privilege, I lost two beloved elders, several longtime friends and colleagues, and have been emotionally saddened by serious diagnoses within our immediate community. The losses from the wildfires and damage to the economic well-being of so many neighbors and friends (especially my friends in the performing arts) also weigh upon me. And these losses remind me of previous traumas - especially the huge losses I experienced as a young person and pastor during the HIV/AIDS “dying years”.

There are cracks forming in the dams I have unintentionally created to hold back all the sadness and grief. This is good news, but it isn’t easy because just at the time when I think I should be feeling better and more hopeful, I feel sad and anxious.

Thankfully, I have helping professionals and many other resources in my life to assist me in tending this grief and sadness. And because I have worked to heal from past traumas, I have some tools and skills including a long life of spiritual practice and study that carries me, even when my faith in God and the goodness of neighbors falters. As a helping professional and spiritual leader myself, I know that tending this grief and toxic trauma is a critical part of being able to fulfill my call and obligation to be of service to others.

If you find yourself feeling inexplicably awful these days - please know that you are not alone. And get whatever help you can to tend those feelings from professionals, support groups, or by making time to talk with trusted friends or family.

I’m also a big fan of rituals of cleansing and release. During the HIV/AIDS years, the creation of the Names Project and then the AIDS Memorial Quilt was such a helpful way to name and mourn all the losses and to create new memories in community to cherish.

Some years during Lent, I have simply taken scraps of paper and written the names, events, and even petty grievances that feel stuck in my soul and then released them by burning them - or putting the scraps in water so they melt. These rituals of remembrance and release provide and opportunity for weeping and prayer that leads to spiritual and emotional healing.

There are so many other ways to positively release all these pent-up feelings including making art, dancing, singing, shouting, long hikes, hugging trees, and even just letting yourself ugly cry while watching vaccination videos.

Whatever ritual or practice works for you, it will be greatly enhanced if you can do it with others safely online or outside with masks and social distance. Allowing ourselves to be witnessed and then comforted in our grief is essential to mourning well. We are social creatures who desperately need community and that is one of our greatest losses in this pandemic: we are all socially isolated to some degree and it really is hard to heal from grief without being able to hug friends and extended family.

These are challenging times and there is a lot of work to do so that each of us and our communities can be strengthened and healed. May it be so!