Post-Haiti Syndrome: A Blog Resurrected

June 24, 2008

Every time I return from Haiti, I suffer what has no reason NOT to be in the DSM-IV (or are we up to V+ now?): Post-Haiti Syndrome. And, although I was in Haiti only a very short time this trip, this round of Post-Haiti Syndrome happens to be particularly acute for many, many reasons.

Post-Haiti Syndrome (PHS) is a depression caused by the inability to make the pieces of one's "real life" fit together tightly against the backdrop of what one has learned from Haiti. This is not an intellectual "what one has learned from Haiti." Such superficial knowledge is not what I am getting at. What I am speaking of is the "what one has learned from Haiti" deep, deep in one's Soul: where one's essence bridges out into Eternity, enjoins us to our Creator and unites us with our brothers and sisters in Spirit. And, perhaps if you're lucky you'll find a soulmate or a small band of souls who know this Haiti, too.

PHS is akin to a Dark Night of the Soul, in a sense.

PHS is a yearning in one's viscera to have and to do more when our time and resources and energy and our "real life" say: "no." It's not a harsh no; it's just a "life no." We're human. We're limited. We can not have everything. We can not do everything. The poor will always be with us. The struggles and tensions and paradoxes of the heart and the mind and the soul will always be a human reality. Life is and will be what it has always been.

But, when you want so badly what you can not have and want so badly to do what you can not do, even though you know it's life-giving to you and to those in need, and you know that what you want will heal your weary soul, you can not help but feel a weariness that stalls you, even though the desire to do and have empowers. Struggle. Tension. Paradox.

I feel sometimes in the midst of PHS a bit like the sailor of yore who encountered the mythological Lorelei on his river's journey: the allure of this beautiful maiden bids us come afield of our safe passage. Yet, between us and the maiden are the rocks of life that say: "no."

This analogy is neither complete nor sound, for in my story the Lorelei is a healthy goal, a truly beautiful maiden, not the trickster of the fable. And, the Lorelei may very well be the missing piece of the puzzle of my soul that brings me unimaginable peace in this earthly journey. And, the rocks are not murderous; just the stuff of life, some of which is eminently beautiful.

But yet, the rocks, the reality continues to say: "no." Even if my Lorelei is the most immeasurably beautiful maiden.

How does one surmount this tension? Does the journey of life provide another path further downstream? Will I live long enough to accomplish all I desire?

I suppose I should take heart that my life's journey keeps blessing me in returning to Haiti; that in good, sound theology, I carry my Lorelei so deep within me. And, that alone should give me strength. But, yet...my human thought process says: this PHS is something real.

And, so...until I mitigate the PHS, and look forward to my next trip to Haiti, with hopes of productivity and progress, I'll go on replaying The Pogues haunting rendition of Heine's poem, even if the lyrics don't say exactly what I mean to say here. Go ahead. Dust off the CD. This song is worth listening to until you can bear it no longer:


If I should float upon this stream
And see you in my madman's dream
I'd sink into your troubled eyes
And none would know 'cept Lorelei
River, river have mercy
Take me down to the sea
For if I perish on these rocks
My love no more I'll see
But if my ship, which sails tomorrow
Should crash against these rocks,
My sorrows I will drown before I die
It's you I'll see, not Lorelei...