Did it ever occur to you that we might not need counsellors if we took the time to live through grief, rather than barrelling on and wondering why we feel so wretched, and casting about outside ourselves for quick fixes when there is no such thing?

It’s no secret that I harbor a severe nostalgia for the last century, and this is one example of why: when I was a kid, if someone close to you died, even if it was expected, you took at least a week – better, a month or more – to stop stop stop and grieve, and your community rallied round, picked up your slack so that you could come to terms, if not grips, with that shift in your personal universe.

Almost everything wrong with this century could have been avoided if we had taken the time to think and feel and reflect, to look after each other instead of into our devices, to reacting with something other than jerking knees.










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