Understanding Our Shared Grief in Times of Disaster
As I’m writing this in early January 2025, the devastating wildfires in Southern California are still raging and dominating everyone’s hearts and minds. The images of entire communities decimated by fire are surreal and shocking. The impact on the lives of the people who live there now with all the uncertainty and loss and in the future when they’re facing the overwhelming task of rebuilding is unimaginable to most of us who aren’t experiencing it. We feel the weight of their loss. Our hearts ache to witness so much destroyed.
While these fires and other natural disasters impact the people they directly affect the most, in our connected modern world, these disasters can affect people far from the direct impact zone. In addition to news coverage, people are sharing their very personal views and experiences with disaster on social media. We have so many windows to view these events, and it’s hard to look away. We feel a connection with people whose stories we see in real-time, and the stress and empathetic grief we feel is real. In addition, when disasters alter beloved places or familiar landscapes, we can grieve the loss of a place that has been special to us.
Empathetic Grief
Let’s explore what empathetic grief is and the psychology behind it. Empathetic grief is when we experience emotional pain because of what other people are going through. This is a normal, healthy response to witnessing the suffering of others. We can sometimes question our response to this because the events didn’t happen to us — so why are we so sad about it? The answer is that you are human, and we are wired for connection. Compassion and empathy are positive qualities that help us connect and live more rich lives. You’re sad because you’re fundamentally a good, kind person who is moved by the suffering of others. There’s nothing wrong with you.
A few psychological processes behind this contribute to feeling empathetic grief. The first is Mirror Neuron Response. When we see images of people returning to their homes and finding nothing but rubble or a video of a man reunited with his dog he thought was lost in the fire, these neurons in our brains can have the same response as though we were experiencing for ourselves what we see on a screen. It’s similar to when you have a dream that something sad or scary has happened, and you experience those emotions as if it were real. You know it actually hasn’t happened to you, but you feel some of the emotions you would if it had.
The second is anticipatory grief or anxiety. When we see people having to evacuate, making choices of what to leave behind, or returning to devastation, our minds are quick to think, “What if that happened to me?” “Could that happen here?” “How would I evacuate if I had to?” Anticipatory anxiety and grief can create real stress.
The third is something I mentioned above—our shared humanity. We are wired for connection, so when we see our fellow humans enduring the unimaginable—losing homes, pets, and communities—we feel bad about it. It’s a lot more concerning if we don’t feel that human connection to people.
The fourth is experiencing a loss of safety. We like to live in a comforting, safe, and protected bubble. When disaster strikes, that can shatter our illusions of safety. This definitely happens if you are directly affected by the tragedy, but it can also happen to people witnessing it from afar. There’s no reason this couldn’t happen to me, and that is unsettling and frightening.
The last is empathetic overwhelm. While feeling empathy for another person’s plight is generally positive, in our digitally superconnected world, we can easily absorb too much, as we are constantly exposed to disaster footage. We were not meant to take in this much. It can be hard to step away, but we can experience empathy overwhelm if we don't.
Connection to Place
Another aspect of grieving disasters is our connection to places — even places we’ve never been. For people who live in a disaster zone, this is understandable. But maybe you grew up somewhere, and now a disaster has changed or destroyed that place. Perhaps you have vacationed there or hoped to move there someday. Maybe you had memories and experiences in a place you wanted to share with your children someday. Maybe you idealized a place as being somewhere wonderful, and you could escape there in your imagination. Perhaps you’ve seen a place on TV and in movies and have always wanted to go, but now you can’t, or it won’t be the same if you do. These are all reasons we can grieve a place.
We can also experience grief because of climate and ecological changes that change or forever alter places we love. And we can feel anxiety about how that may change even more in the future.
Finding Hope
While it’s difficult and overwhelming, shared grief can lead to collective action. Many people donating to relief funds make the impact greater, whether that’s money, food, clothing, or spaces to stay. It’s often said that the antidote to despair is action, so find a way to help from your corner of the world. We can’t solve natural or global disasters, but we can contribute financially to organizations that are making a difference or volunteer our time to causes trying to help. Every tiny bit helps when combined with other small offerings, so don’t feel like you have to give more than you can afford to make a difference. I like what Sharon McMahon shared this week, “Do for one person what you wish you do for everyone.”
Communities can come together in crisis in beautiful ways. I would encourage you to do as Mr. Rogers suggests and “look for the helpers”. Instead of marinating in horror-filled photos and videos of disaster, seek out the stories of shared humanity — the footage of the firefighters setting aside photo albums from a house about to catch flame, the story of the man who helped his aging parent evacuate, the moment when the woman discovers her fireproof safe in her burned-out house, and it has done its job! Family heirlooms preserved. It’s beautiful to watch humanity at its best — seek out these stories to bring light into the darkness of such significant loss.
One thing I love about the Grief Recovery Method is that it can be used to process any kind of loss—not just of people but of places, too. So, if you are struggling with a disaster and loss of place and safety, don’t hesitate to reach out for a free consultation HERE.
When disaster strikes, we should lead with compassion—not only for the people experiencing their worst days (this is not the time for victim blaming or political finger-pointing) but also for yourself as you grapple with the harsh realities of life on earth. It’s hard to be human. So much is out of our control, but we can always choose compassion for ourselves and others.
