Thea Dorn: "Not being completely abandoned in times of need"
What is comfort and where do we find it? And how can we comfort others when they are sad? Five questions for the philosopher and writer Thea Dorn.
What is comfort for you? And where do you find comfort when you need it?
Thea Dorn: Comfort is the feeling of not being completely abandoned in a time of need. The feeling that there is someone or something there to support me, to hold me. People of faith find this support in God, as the hymn says: "You can't fall any lower than into God's hand".
Personally, I lack faith in an all-supporting, all-sustaining God. However, when I am out and about in nature, I often have a similar feeling: I feel tiny, insignificant and at the same time suspended in the whole. That is why this feeling of my own insignificance, including the insignificance of my own pain, is no longer a narcissistic insult, but comforting.
I'm afraid that as long as I think I'm the center of the world, comfort is impossible. Only when I manage to let go of myself do I become open to it. Or to put it more generally: consolation is the art of giving up on yourself without falling into a bottomless pit.
What pain did we have to endure during the pandemic?
Thea Dorn: We were and are confronted with a multitude of pains and fears. Some have lost loved ones. Some were not even able to accompany these people as they died because the hospitals closed themselves off. Some have been left alone with their grief. Some have lost their livelihoods due to the lockdowns. Some have slipped into the abyss of loneliness. Some, including young people, have lost faith in a future that promises a life full of experiences. Some are afraid that we have permanently damaged our liberal constitution as a result of the pandemic policy.
Many people have felt emotional chaos over the past few months. That has taken a lot of energy. How can we recover from this?
Thea Dorn: I think we are experiencing chaos on two levels. Many people have experienced very contradictory feelings within themselves. On the one hand, fear of the virus, the desire not to get infected, the responsibility not to endanger other people. On the other hand, the longing to lead a life that is not constantly dominated by fear and caution, to experience freedom in everyday life, to meet other people, to go to sports or clubs, etc. Enduring these inner conflicts, for which there are no simple solutions, does indeed require a great deal of strength.
At the same time, we are witnessing how the rifts within society have deepened. On the one hand, there are those who welcome the policy of containing the pandemic at all costs. On the other side are those who are convinced that politicians have overshot the mark in many cases with their measures.
The chaos on a social level can only be overcome if we succeed in understanding the fears of others instead of considering our own fears to be the only justified ones. This, in turn, is only possible if the chaos within ourselves does not drive us into despair or dogmatic hardening. Ultimately, it is about maintaining a certain lightness of life in a world that offers more cause for gloom than cheerfulness, or even gaining it in the first place.
How can we comfort other people?
Thea Dorn: Ultimately, comforting is a very simple, almost archaic process. It's about giving the person who is in need, who is in pain, the feeling: I am here, you are not alone. The easiest way to do this is through physical closeness. That's why social distancing was and is such a powerful driver of desolation. It is no coincidence that the comforting mother and, for a while now, the comforting father, who cradle their child in their arms, are to a certain extent the primal scene of comfort.
However, it always takes two to comfort: the unfortunate person must be willing to be comforted. Especially when our pain is caused by something that we feel is not just a misfortune that has befallen us, but an injustice that has been done to us, we initially react with anger. Then we don't want to be comforted. We want the person who caused our misfortune to be held accountable.
The consolation problem of late modern man lies precisely in this: to the extent that we are less and less willing to consider bad events as fate, but instead ask: "Who is to blame for this? Who didn't prevent this from happening?", we tend to become increasingly inconsolable.
What helps you personally to get through the dark season well?
Thea Dorn : I'm like most people: I light a light inside in the warmth while it's cold and dark outside. I wrap myself in a blanket and read. Or even better: I listen to music. Alongside friends and nature, music is the third great comforter in this world for me.
