Following some of the menswear trends I saw at the 96th Oscars, this post was originally going to deal with dress codes (is it OK to wear palazzo pants with a tuxedo jacket?) but alas, world news intervened to take a front seat. Big alas.
I’ve written about the Windsors enough times on Instagram that a childhood friend has accused me more than once of being a “royalist.” I beg to differ, of course, but like people around the world, I find many aspects of the British monarchy fascinating. Foremost among these is that they essentially constitute the world’s longest running reality show — which The Crown did us the favor of scripting and condensing.
The Princess of Wales.
I wrote about the madness surrounding Princess Catherine’s sustained absence from view two weeks ago, pre-disclosure (which can be found here, if you care). And though I try to make it a policy to show my respect for the readers who honor me by being here to only point to what I believe to be the most logical argument rather than advise or instruct, I have been so appalled at the cottage industry of alarmists and conspiracy theorists that grew like – well, cancer – in the last three months that I feel free saying that it was not only not okay, it was unacceptable. To this I add: shame on them. Though no one needed proof that our internet behavior is out of control, this was a spectacular watershed. Just as bullying, breakups and civil war eventually moved online, so too have events where the crowd is so desperate for access to the venue that they attempt to storm the doors and people are trampled. This was one of them.
But we finally know the unfortunate news. And I have to tell you that because of the Princess’s age, the age of her children and the experience that I (probably like you) have had with friends who grew up with gravely ill or lost parents, are valiantly facing disease now or who passed away long before their time, this update really undid me (maybe I’m a royalist after all). But it seems all the sadder because of how it recalls the family’s 1997 encounter with the unthinkable, the evaporation of another storybook story. It is also difficult to think back to a time – if ever – as well-known a figure has had such serious health information to share (by contrast, the lung cancer of her husband's great-grandfather King George VI was known only to his doctors – patient and commonwealth alike were kept in the dark). Due to the social and traditional media frenzy her sequestration produced, it seems unlikely that the Princess or her teams will be keen to provide us with “updates.” Now that we are standing in the shadow of grave information and presumably cut off from much more thanks to our own behavior, is it okay to be optimistic? In a world where everyone’s privacy is at least a bit compromised, health can be a battleground and “positivity” can be complicated, what is an appropriate reaction to someone else’s bad news?
This is a bit of a trick question, of course, but it occurred to me for two reasons. The first was an ugly current I detected in the immediate response to the announcement. That product online humans of the 21st century seem to be able to manufacture so well is in endless supply even in what would seem to be unlikely places: “toxic negativity” is almost comically redundant, but it always surprises me what depths people can and will mine to…have the last word? Center their own issues? Feel something? Feel nothing? I do not know. I saw comments on a post that referenced the news humanely only to see ghouls use it to expatiate on topics from colonialism, the American healthcare system, the Royal Family’s treatment of women and more (My advice: AVOID people like this at all costs – and this goes double, triple, quadruple if you know them personally).
The other reason was thanks to what I found most remarkable about the Princess’s statement: how suffused with restraint it was. Though I will resist the urge to analyze it too closely since I do not know her or anything about her prognosis, I was fascinated that a public figure in a time and of a generation that has been exceptionally focused on projecting strength and self-determinism – as well as heavy disclosure – addressed the entire world less (it seemed to me) with reassurance than resolve. This is what I am doing, what I am focused on, she seemed to say. Here is where we are. This is all you get. In an era where our abundant tools of communication may be deployed to detail every step of a painful journey, to harness community and to “model resilience,” I wondered if we were looking at a new way of talking about life’s detours and devastations, and what that could mean for us all.
Following some spectacular failures in the last decade or so, we have started to look differently at the cost of “acting as if” and silencing critics, and the notion of “toxic positivity” is so widely recognized as pathological that it almost feels like a clinical diagnosis rather than a term of art (which it is – first coined by Jack Halberstam in 2011, according to Wikipedia). But what seems to me to be less discussed is that in most cases, these things are not meant to “gaslight” or control. A lot of unfocused or unrealistic optimism is harbored by people who are out of their depth, or who are merely expressing what they so ardently wish to be true. Though this is probably a very normal reaction to a bad hand, what is also reflects is a society that doesn’t give us much of a roadmap for practicing acceptance, surrender or sacrifice. When we are scared or overwhelmed, distraction and denial – magical thinking – feels like great comfort to most of us, and for the most part, it’s widely indulged.
But this does have a price, and it’s usually paid by the ones it’s meant to help. As tempting as it can be to tell someone that they are going to beat this, or the next job will be even better than the last one, or there will be another pregnancy, another love, another shot, or the loathed “everything happens for a reason,” it’s okay to remember that our support doesn’t have to come laden with answers. Platitudes aren’t solutions.
Matters like these are often further complicated – no surprise there – by our digital personae: though these usually perform exceptionally well for a person experiencing hardship, allowing them to get hard information out there all at once (if they choose), the flip side of this is that can be easy to forget that the gestures of encouragement these elicit are usually only gestures: a heart emoji or a “you got this” are not tools to help navigate a new reality. We must remember to email, text and call, and to use those methods to do more than offer affirmation but to ask How are you doing? What are you feeling? What do you need?
There is no question that we are living in precarious times. Apart from the nearly two million individuals who are diagnosed with cancer in this country annually, we are confronted with daily, wall-to-wall (or screen-to-screen) awareness of the other trials and misfortune of others: war, poverty, addiction, violence, isolation. But like so much of modern life, the means we have to circulate the facts seem to have quickly outpaced the instruments we have to react to them. Under these conditions, why wouldn’t attempting to assure ourselves and others “Everything is going to be alright!” “Just keep looking up!” “Think healing thoughts!” feel more humane than the only other clear option: hiding under the bed? Because fear, doubt, sorrow are among the most humane emotions we can express. If that’s truly what you feel, lean in. There are good ideas and even strategies on the other side of that conversation.
I’m sure even a royal would tell you that no life is a fairytale. But it doesn’t seem unreasonable for each of us to hope that our own won’t depend on miracles or even extraordinary luck, for things that can be fixed with time (or medical intervention) when they are broken. However, many (if not most) of us are probably have someone in our lives who is reckoning with hard choices at this very moment – treatment, loss, some big but unwelcome decision. We can certainly pray for them; prayers are lovely, and even honorable – as the saying goes (more or less), we cannot be sure that they help, but we are entirely convinced that they never, ever hurt. Hard objective truth is usually appropriate in small doses, but best reserved for those closest to the situation. And there is no question that someone who is able to look on – or for – the bright side is a good person to have around. But this function is usually most effective if it’s expressed not in words but in actions: I contacted this person on your behalf. I made you this thing to eat or use or look at. I will drive you there and pick you up. I came as soon as I could. I needed to see your face, to hold your hand.
Optimism for the future may feel difficult for any of us at times, but a version that just resides in today and renews itself tomorrow can be managed more easily – and it may be all that you and your loved one require for now. The things we do – rather than think or feel or say – usually pave the way to the most positive outcomes of all; this remains true even in circumstances than sadly cannot be altered much. For optimism can be expressed as simply as wherever this thing takes us, I will be here.
Wishing fortitude and grace for all those who struggle today, and courage for those who love and stand by them.
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I think optimism is helpful, but needs to be grounded in reality. If someone is in the depths of depression, for instance, it's callous to say "just cheer up and be happy" - that shows a complete lack of understanding or even empathy. To be sure, the intention of good will is there, but the expression is out of touch. Toxic positivity is definitely a thing, as is emotional bypassing, and neither are helpful. We have to acknowledge the true situation, how difficult it is (will be), and the possible risk factors or implications. Only with that in mind can we be authentically optimistic.