This past month has been a challenge for many of us.
As an entertainer I am used to being in crowded bars and meeting new people nearly every day — as is with anyone working in the tourism industry here in the Sea to Sky.
I was right in the heart of another busy Whistler entertainment season and preparing myself for one of the busiest wedding and gig seasons of my career. In an instant, all of that changed. It may not go back to the way it was for a long time too.
Through my own experiences, and what I am witnessing on the news, I believe that humanity is collectively going through the five stages of grief. The funny thing is that isolation is keeping us alone and we aren’t grasping that this is a worldwide stage of mourning. I wish to share my timeline of mourning over the last month, as I believe many of us can relate.
The first stage of grief is numbness and denial. This was the first two weeks for me. I did everything I could to keep myself busy, taking on numerous projects, trying to learn new things, and keeping my mind as far away from wondering about what the future may hold as I could.
I kept telling myself that everything was going to be normal by June, and that summer season would be roaring again and I had nothing to worry about. Everything would be sorted out by June.
The second and third stages of grief are anger and bargaining. This hit me on Easter weekend. I missed playing shows and giving and receiving energy from audiences. I was angry about the virus and found myself trying to pinpoint the blame on anything I could: China, our government, bats, anything I could get angry at for ruining my year.
I believe this is the stage many of those protesting currently are going through. I don’t condone these protesters on either side of the border, but I do empathize with their grief.
The fourth stage of grief is sadness and withdrawal. This was me last week. One of the projects I had put on the go at the beginning of isolation was to learn a new song and post it online every day. Last week, I fell into a hole and I had no desire to continue with my projects. I felt helpless, lonely, and chose to lay in bed for most of the day for a week. This is okay. It is a part of the process and we must allow ourselves to feel it in order to overcome it. It is okay to feel sad about what is happening right now.
The fifth and final stage is acceptance. While I find myself in a place of acceptance right now there may be a day when I slip back into sadness and that is okay.
Once the sadness passes, we can understand that although things may not be “normal” for a long time, there are still so many beautiful things we can be thankful for.
I am extremely thankful I live in Squamish, and I am extremely thankful for technology. I can’t imagine having to go through isolation without the internet to keep us connected, and keep me employed as a guitar teacher. I accept that this may be the new “normal” for a while to come.
I believe many of us are going through these things our own way and at our own speed during this crisis. Check in on your loved ones, even the ones who seem like they have everything sorted out. Under the surface they may be just as afraid for the future as all of us are.
Will Ross is a local musician.
