Is anything morally clear anymore?!

Lately I've been reflecting on a quiet grief that many people I work with are carrying, something I've come to think of as the loss of moral clarity. 

It all started when I came across a quote from Sahaj Kaur Kohli (@browngirltherapy) that really gave me the words to what I was feeling:

“You grew up believing goodness would protect you and justice would prevail. 
Now you're seeing a world where suffering continues despite truth.”

Whew. 

For many of us, especially those who grew up in the 80s, 90s, or early 2000s, there was a time when we trusted that justice would somehow find its way. That the balances of power would kick into gear. That truth would be enough. That goodness would actually make a difference.

Let me be clear - these injustices have been happening for a long time, but now catalytic events have shed light on it. It feels like the checks and balances of the systems are failing, and the moral standards we thought we agreed to are being ignored.

It kinda feels like the rug is being pulled out from underneath us. Like I said a in my last blog post how did we get here?

How do we restore justice when the world feels so off course? 
Where do we root ourselves now?

These questions come up often in my work with health professionals, caregivers, community activists, and healers - folks who are committed to doing good, but finding themselves in systems that make their efforts difficult to sustain.

Moral injury

In case you're wondering, there's a term for this experience: moral injury. This happens when our actions or the systems we're part of conflict with our deepest values. It's the ache of having to make choices that don't align with what you know is right, and feeling powerless to stop it. It feels like our ability to act morally is injured.

We used to talk about moral injury mainly in the context of the military, but we now see it everywhere…

like healthcare workers being asked to prioritize productivity and money over compassionate care

therapists and educators who are expected to give endlessly without a liveable wage,

and community activists who fight the uphill battle for justice while trying to stay emotionally well.
 
That's where grief comes in. Grief allows us to tell the truth about what's been lost - our faith in justice prevailing, our sense of safety, our belief that things “should” work out when we do what's right, etc.

The power of naming our experience

When we name what's been broken, we are able to define and clarify what doesn't work, so that we can make room for what can be restored: integrity, compassion, courage, and hope. And this kind of restoration takes honesty, it asks us to hold both reality and hope in the same breath.

I know that's really hard to do, so I encourage you to take a moment and ask yourself this question - what helps you return to your own moral compass when the world feels confusing?

You might not find the perfect answer, or the answers may bring some sadness and frustration even, and that's okay. Asking yourself this question is an act of restoration and resistance. Allow yourself to continue to dream, wonder, and explore.

May you be reminded that your grief is valid, your acts of goodness matter, and your ability to dream is a gift that allows you to keep moving forward.✨