Of Broken Hearts & Lost Love
The fourth chapter of Susan Cain’s book Bittersweet is all about how to cope with lost love. By this, I believe that Cain has a more expansive view than just romantic love (though that certainly counts!). This could be the death of a loved one; a best friend who moves away; a location that is sentimental to you that is no longer exists… (Williams Hall at IWU as an example… haha). I think nostalgia fits into this equation for me as well. When I’m nostalgic, it tends to feel bittersweet for me — longing for a time when I felt deeply connected to something happening in the world or in my little world. It often feels like loss because I recognize that I will never experience life in the same exact way as I did in the 80’s or 90’s or whatever period of life I am nostalgic for. I think Cain probably has more painful experiences in mind than nostalgia… but throwing it out there anyway.
She makes three observations about lost love; coping; and life:
- Our losses have the power to shape us for years to come. This could be both good or bad… but often our losses leave a mark that can shape how we view life, relationships and a number of other things. “If you don’t understand them and actively work to form new emotional responses, you’ll act them out again and again (p.93).”
- Our losses could represent a fairly constant and significant “Achille Heel” or weakness.
- Cain posits that our lost love, while gone in its original form, will always manifest in different ways in the future. Example: we may lose an ‘elder’ in our family… but we may start to see that person’s characteristics in a younger person in our family. The original Star Wars trilogy era is gone… but Disney bought Star Wars and new stories are always on the horizon. :) (BTW — I appreciate the hopefulness of this observation… though I’m not sure it always works out in the way she expresses it.)
She then makes the following statement: “…the best response to pain is to dive deeper into your caring (p.93).” The depth of our pain equates to the depth of our love and compassion. The argument here is that you would not feel emotional pain deeply if you did not love deeply. This reminds me of a U2 lyric from their recent song Cedarwood Road: “A heart that is broken is a heart that is open.” One of the tragic outcomes of pain is that we close ourselves off from love in the future. Cain argues that the real healing balm of pain is to somehow find a way to open up even wider to love and compassion and kindness.
It’s not easy because it makes us vulnerable to more pain. But our God-given design is for relationship and for community. Openness is risk… but it’s a risk that leads us back to original design… it helps us to tap into flourishing, hope and eventually… joy. I’m preaching to myself here because my first instinct after a wound is to hide under a shell and close myself off from feeling as much as I can. Those instincts have never led me anywhere healthy in the past. I resonate with Cain’s advise here… and it’s another way to think about moving from a ‘wounded wounder’ to a ‘wounded healer.’
“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.” (Psalm 34:18, NLT)