Some Thoughts During This Time of Social Distancing
So here we are. How are you all? I hope you’re all as well as you can be under the many circumstances.
As we come out of our second week of social distancing (re: staying home and doing our best to #flattenthecurve), I find myself reflecting on the ways in which I share about my life and my experiences. Regarding social media and the internet, I’ve always been aware that my tendency is to quietly experience life and maybe reflect/share about it later through a blog, or a poem, a story or something else. Sharing all of the weathered storms has never been my norm, and many instances of my life have passed by ‘undocumented’ in certain ways. I’m honestly not sure I’ve ever given a great deal of thought to the what and how I share—even though I have a blog. I’m a relatively quiet and perhaps introverted person, in a relationship with another quiet and perhaps introverted person, who share two little people who are decidedly not quiet and relatively extroverted children. Our girls love people and visits and the type of social activity that can exhaust their parents the most. (To be fair though, they also love being at home and seem to really value their downtime). Our lives then, have often felt too busy to document, too full of work and the day-to-day to really dive in and talk about what’s been going on, because of course, as with anyone—there’s always a tremendous amount going on. Living, learning, surviving, holding on, falling down, letting go, letting in.
Now though, as I strive for the sense of peace and goodmindedness that so many of our ceremonies and teachings guide me to embrace while being almost 37 weeks pregnant and mindful of the precarious nature of our physical reality, it feels like these previously quiet experiences might need to go somewhere. Every day I find myself in a more concentrated struggle to balance the fear, stress and anxiety I feel regarding the physical wellbeing of my family and loved ones, with our emotional, spiritual and mental wellbeing. I admit I’ve found it hard to understand the decisions that some of the people around me are making or have made, and then trying to make peace with what I can’t control. It has not been uncommon for a day (or even the same couple of hours) to include a smudge, a cry, a moment of calm and focus followed by a surge of frustration and helplessness, an upswell of excitement, a sense of dread and what could be called fear or grief—all accompanied by waves of gratitude for every moment that Kehte, myself, the girls and the baby are together, safe, healthy and well, and for all of the people who are continuing to work, to strive, to fight for one another’s survival.
It is a strange and difficult time. As a collective, we are going through this shared experience together, and yet much about our experiences is different. The challenges we had prior to this crisis have perhaps been compounded, still need to be weathered, and still need to be revisited again in the future when we face the task of getting back to the old (new?) normal or reshaping our professional and personal lives and spaces—not to mention the policies and practices that ought to create safety, fairness, equity and equality for all of us and future generations of people.
On a personal level, I have already registered how some things that mattered a few months ago, do not matter in quite the same way now; and things that felt resolved and settled, suddenly need to be revisited. This flux is not wholly unfamiliar. After all, for the past year I’ve known that at least part of my energy was going to be focussed around processing change and recovering a sense of balance following the completion of my doctorate last year. What I can sense a bit better now though, is how those changes and the balancing act are going to be further underscored by current events. And I suppose when I really think about it, we are always responding and changing (perhaps in subtle ways) to the circumstances around us. So perhaps no real surprises there. But in the absence of surprise, I hope to be able to channel all these things I’m feeling into the most positive, accepting energy I can manage. A kind of surrender and an unwavering faith in the generosity and compassion of people, creation and spirit, even as I do the physical, practical work of just staying home and protecting my peace as best as I can.
As I write this, I’m settling in to rest for the weekend, and also gearing up for my last week of work before I sign off and turn my focus to my maternity leave. Working at home with the girls the last two weeks has been one of those beautiful challenges that isn’t really a challenge at all when you really think about it—overwhelming yes, but the kind of overwhelm that fades relatively quickly and is peppered with joy and love. All in all, I’m proud of the patience and honest communication we’ve been offering one another in the house, and completely inspired by Ione and Vivian’s capacity for creativity and play, and Kehte’s commitment to our wellbeing. I can only hope I’m offering them something just as wonderful in return, lol! And I’m definitely looking forward to being able to spend even more time with all of them before the baby arrives. I want to absolutely treasure these moments. It’s not always easy for me to practice the kind of wholeheartedness that Brene Brown talks about in her books, but if there were ever a time when I needed to lean in to love, joy, belonging and connectedness—it’s now. Indeed, gratitude is proving to be the best way to lend some grounding to my life right now, and even though I need a helping hand to practice it sometimes (by literally using a Gratitude Journal), I’m grateful I have a tool to use.
And with that, I’m going to sign off and go play with some paint. Sending so much love and light to you all. Stay home. Stay safe. Wash your hands. Take care for one another. And if you are able to, happy creating 🖤.
S.