So, what about…
So, what about…
…when the rescue teams begin to pull out, and the emergency aid drops of food and medicine slow down?
There is an overwhelming moment when those who have survived a natural disaster see their rescuers leave. It is very physical, the breaking of that initial human contact. As the safe solidness of the rescuers departs they take a powerful psychological prop away with them. Those left behind then have to face the enormity of everything that they have lost.
In short, the adrenalin-fuelled survival mechanism has exhausted the mind and body, and as the pumped-up system begins to slow down, a sweeping wave of despair is the most common feeling that follows.
There is a flagging of the vast human energy that was been focused on survival. As it begins to sink in that death has been cheated, for now, the weight of loss comes crashing down, stopping many in their tracks.
For those living through the floods in Kashmir, as the first wave of emergency response dies away, all that remains is a level of loss that the mind can barely grasp. For many this means a lifetime of hard labour submerged beneath silt, mud and contaminated water. For as many again it means the loss of a home that holds every memory of their lives. And for so many, and in so many ways, it is the idea that everything they believed worth fighting for has now gone, forever.
The crushing weight of this realisation can be one of the biggest barriers that people have to face, the enormity of it disabling them more than physical injury, or the vastly reduced quality of day-to-day life.
For anyone reading this who has, at some point, believed that they have lost everything, you get the point. For those who have not, I would like to try and get it across without sounding like an old windbag.
We all, every one of us, have had a moment when we thought something huge was about to be lost—jay-walking and feeling the wind of a car that came out of nowhere, gambling on something that risked losing far more than we could afford, over-taking at almost the wrong moment. We know the thrumming thrill of having cheated disaster in those moments. In that instant we felt so very alive in a way that no other experience can really equal.
Failing to cheat disaster is exactly the opposite of this. With it comes the pulverising sense that nothing means anything anymore, that there is no point, and that the best idea is to give up. The sense of loss is frankly unimaginable, unless it has actually been faced.
For anyone who has just faced disaster please read the following carefully:
The routine of the day-to-day is vital. Go to whatever lengths you need to in order to preserve aspects of your privacy and dignity that matter to you. There is a practical limitation to this, particularly if you are living in cramped conditions, but find one thing that gives you an important sense of your dignity and hold onto it. Maybe it means a moment at a window, with your face lifted to the sun, or being able to fold the few clothes that you still have in a way that gives you comfort—whatever it is, hold onto it.
The enormity of loss overwhelms, knocking physical strength away as it sweeps over you. In those moments stick with something that gives you comfort—counting your breaths as you breathe; counting your steps if you are walking; reciting a prayer, mantra, or phrase that you know brings you comfort; holding the hand of someone beloved, and resting in the power of that human connection.
Seek out ways to remember the things that give you joy. If people you love have died, focus on those you still have around you. If you have lost material things that you cared about deeply, look again at the lives you still have around you and what they mean to you in comparison to the things that have gone. Focus on something that you still need to do in your life: the loved one you want to spend time with; the child you hope to see married; the child you hope to have; the book you want to write; the poem you thought of so often but never wrote down; the simple invention that you never actually put down on a piece of paper; the home that you want to build again. It does not matter whether you thought of it once as a wild and unreachable dream, you now have access to a source of energy that can be redirected from what feels like disabling loss into a source of re-creation.
And if you are in Kashmir our team is doing all we can to get back to work so that we can support you. We hope our helpline number will be reconnected soon: 1800 180 7020 or contact us through www.kashmirlifeline.org or www.healingkashmir.org