Jean-Christophe Trentinella, Founder Mindful Onwards

Let me begin with a story—a picture, to be more exact.

The photograph above is of a ship, the Ville-d’Alger, dated June 20, 1962. My entire paternal family was on board: grandparents, parents, uncles, aunts, and young children. Like a million other pieds-noirs—French citizens who lived in Algeria—they were forced to leave everything behind when Algeria gained its independence. Each of them carried only a suitcase, leaving behind their lives, memories, and sense of belonging. They felt betrayed by the French government, finding themselves on the wrong side of history. And though they returned to France, they were not welcomed with open arms. They struggled to integrate, feeling like outsiders in what was supposed to be their homeland.

As I grew up, my father shared stories of his youth in Algeria—the war, its horrors, and the struggles of starting over in a place that felt foreign. These stories carried the weight of unprocessed trauma and grief, emotions that shaped my family and became my inheritance. Perhaps because of these stories, I, too, never felt entirely at home in France. My father’s generation carried a grief that was not only heavy but also unacknowledged—a grief they weren’t allowed to express or process fully. This is disenfranchised grief.

Understanding Disenfranchised Grief

Grief is a natural response to loss. We know this instinctively, but the losses we validate and recognize are often limited. Disenfranchised grief, however, is grief that society doesn’t recognize or validate. It is misunderstood, dismissed, or ignored—grief that people endure alone because others don’t see it as legitimate.

Some examples of disenfranchised grief include the loss of a pet, the end of an estranged relationship, the passing of a non-immediate family member, or the loss of someone whose relationship to us was private or misunderstood. The list extends beyond people: we can grieve lost health, lost opportunities, lost possessions, even a lost sense of safety. Each of these losses can be profoundly impactful, yet often they are not acknowledged as “real” grief by society.

The COVID-19 pandemic brought a tidal wave of disenfranchised grief. Our sense of safety, structure, personal freedom, and social connections were all disrupted, yet society largely struggled to recognize these losses as grief. We missed milestones, celebrations, connections—experiences that anchored us. Our lives were transformed in ways that challenged our ability to cope and left many feeling unmoored in a world they no longer recognized.

A close friend of mine, a French doctor in palliative care, describes this state as “l’impossible retour à l’état initial”—the irreversible loss of the original state, the impossibility of going back. It designates the moment when patients and their families realize that the health they once had won’t return, and the painful acceptance that follows. This captures what so many of us have felt in recent years.

The Loss of “Normal” and the Reality of Alienation

Back in 2019, we went about our lives, blissfully unaware of the seismic shifts that lay ahead. The pandemic hit, and “normal” vanished, replaced by an uncertain and unsettling “new normal.” Behind this phrase lies a series of losses—health, relationships, jobs, connections. Some families fractured under the pressure; friendships ended; people lost loved ones.

The pandemic also exposed long-standing cracks in our society—fractured systems, broken social contracts, and a world that perhaps was never as we believed it to be.

For years, we have been lied to, gaslit, silenced, censored, manipulated, coerced into compliance—and yes, harmed. For many, this period has been a time of denial, confusion, and cognitive dissonance. We’ve experienced a “pandemic within,” one of unacknowledged loss, disorientation, and isolation.

Virginia Woolf once wrote in “To the Lighthouse”:

“There is a kind of sadness that comes from knowing too much, from seeing the world as it truly is… In that understanding, there is a profound loneliness, a sense of being cut off from the world, from other people, from oneself.”

This quote resonates now more than ever. The pandemic, with its relentless disruptions, has left many of us feeling alienated from ourselves, from others, and from the world. And this sense of disconnection has, in many ways, been purposefully cultivated.

The Impact of Disconnection and Dehumanization

Our modern world bombards us relentlessly with distractions. Politics, race, religion, gender, and other social issues distract and divide us. We’ve been segregated by algorithms into social media echo chambers that feed us carefully crafted and irreconcilable versions of reality. We’re pitted against one another, polarized, outraged, and aggrieved—all by design—so that we can’t even agree on what reality is, or agree to disagree anymore. This is the oldest trick in the book.

This polarization diminishes our capacity for empathy by expertly exploiting a vulnerability in our brains. As Dr. David Eagleman’s research in neuroscience demonstrates, the very notion of in-group and out-group—the “us versus them” mentality—can dampen our neural empathic response to others’ pain. In other words, disconnection affects us physiologically—we stop feeling for others, and as a result, we stop caring about their suffering. This is the science of dehumanization, a process that numbs us and fragments our connections to each other.

Finding a Path Forward Through Empathy and Mindfulness

If we cannot return to the world as it was, how do we begin to navigate this changed landscape? How do we reconnect—with the world, with each other, and with ourselves? How do we process a grief that remains largely unnamed?

The journey begins with reclaiming our attention and our agency through mindfulness. Mindfulness helps us ground ourselves in the present, reconnecting with our own experiences rather than being swept along by external pressures. From this foundation, we can foster empathy by recognizing our shared humanity and cultivating positive intent. Empathy is the bridge that allows us to transform any interaction into an experience of connection.

As Dr. Brené Brown (2015) eloquently states:

“Empathy has no script. There is no right way or wrong way to do it. It’s simply listening, holding space, withholding judgment, emotionally connecting, and communicating that incredibly healing message of ‘You’re not alone.'”

One simple yet powerful empathy practice I’ve learned, called “Shift to Connection,” involves three intentional breaths:

1. With the first breath, connect to yourself and reclaim your attention. Ground yourself in the present. This is mindfulness.

2. With the second breath, connect to your shared humanity by finding a commonality with the person in front of you—perhaps a simple acknowledgment that you both seek happiness and wish to avoid suffering.

3. With the third breath, set a positive intent for the other person: “May you be happy and safe.” It doesn’t need to be elaborate; it’s about the intention rather than the words.

This exercise can help us move past disconnection and into a space where we recognize and honour each other’s experiences. In doing so, we can cultivate a sense of belonging and start to piece together this fractured world of ours.

Embracing Our Shared Humanity, Creating Brave Spaces and Collectively Healing

As we navigate this new reality, let’s commit to creating brave spaces for honest and open conversations. By embracing our shared humanity and cultivating empathy, we can begin to heal, not only as individuals but as a community, by holding space for each other’s struggles, grief, courage, and resilience. Let’s find together this sacred space where opposites complete rather than confront each other, where we can once again agree to disagree.

We may never return to the world as it once was, but maybe that’s for the better. Let’s name our grief, let’s grieve together, and let’s heal together. In a world that often feels disconnected, let’s choose to see, to listen, and to care. By doing so, we can create a new world rooted in empathy, compassion, understanding, and connection.

References

Brown, B. (2015). Daring greatly: How the courage to be vulnerable transforms the way we live, love, parent, and lead. Penguin.

Jean-Christophe Trentinella is the founder of Mindful Onwards, The Neuroscience of Leadership, Wellbeing & Performance.

For more information, please see: https://mindfulonwards.com

“The photograph of the the Ville-d’Alger included in this blog post is used solely for educational and reflective purposes. If any rights holders have concerns regarding its use, please contact me hello@mindfulonwards.com, and I will be happy to make any necessary adjustments.”

In praise of meaningful conversations: This piece would never have seen the light of day without a powerful and open exchange (with Michael Wride) that made space for potential disagreement, allowed uncomfortable topics to be explored, and created room for new ideas to emerge, be shared, and owned. (Thank you, Michael.)