April 2020

It’s Not Them, It’s This!

12 Comments / Coping / By / May 3, 2020

There are so many things I’m not saying. So many emotions I just try to process so I can get through this day. And the next one. And the next. They are unpredictable yet seem to want to hang around, coming and going as they please, like an obnoxious house guest. I talk a lot about being okay with not being okay and for the most part I am. I’m adaptable and very good at transition, comfortably navigating my way through whatever is going on with me, giving myself permission to feel it for a while, then releasing it so I can get on with the business of living. I’m not afraid to cry and that’s very helpful. But lately, like so many of us, I am feeling the wear and tear of our current situation. I share my home with two other people and I don’t like to put them in the position of being my human dumping ground while I figure out what the hell’s going on in my head so I can give it a voice. I also don’t want to walk around in a sullen mood every time it comes up. Being an extrovert and an empath I’m already the most vocal one in our cozy little trio, with plenty of emotion sprinkled around like confetti at a birthday party. I have to say they’re both great about it. They listen and hug me as often as needed. They don’t even roll their eyes at me, at least not to my face. Truthfully, it seems selfish to be feeling anything but grateful when for the most part we’re really okay right now. But it’s frustrating when I think I’ve given these responses a proper send off, then, surprise, here they come again! Anger, melancholy, disappointment. I’m just like, what the actual fuck?! 


                                                      

Coincidentally, I found myself feeling kind of edgy the other night. I don’t get edgy. And then I got quiet as thoughts ruminated through my head that sounded like they were coming from a stranger. I could almost hear the voices say out loud that if I have to look at my couch for one more second or fix one more dinner I’m going to scream…and…this…there are just too many people living in my house right now and I would like them to go away!! That would have been a rather unfortunate choice of words, especially since they’ve done nothing wrong, in fact they make my life easier. ‘They’ being my roommate and my boyfriend. Seriously, let me clarify that we have zero issues getting along, which I know is rare. We have, in fact, a very synergistic routine and level of honesty and trust that makes it easy to share our time and space together. I love these guys. I love chillin’ on the couch with them, sharing a home together and especially cooking with them. We’ve had an opportunity to really know each other through this, and that’s a gift I would never return. 

So obviously, it’s not them, it’s me. Not even me. It’s this! It’s this damn pandemic! I think it has released in me an almost unidentifiable surge of languishing loneliness. This is not the kind of loneliness you feel when you’re in a bad marriage, when you’re single and don’t want to be or when you just moved to a new place and don’t know anyone. No, this feels more like longing, an aching for things you don’t even know exist. 

This is hard to say and I’m certainly not proud of it, but I made a commitment to myself that I would not edit my feelings in these words I share. It would be unfair to everyone if I didn’t show all the facets of myself. When I am compelled to write I must do my truth-telling with integrity and no ego. I am sooooooo human.

 I offer this to you so you’ll understand and know that you’re not the only one. Because you’re not the only one. I think it’s the most natural thing in the world that this global unsteadiness is making people ancy. Emotions are bubbling to the surface right now that feel foreign. Because they are. And I think any of us can be challenged whether we are living alone in this or whether we are isolating with other people. Every circumstance is unique and worthy of validation for whatever it reveals in us. The daily shifts we are seeing and the constant underlying level of stress can leave us feeling overextended and depleted, creating overly sensitive responses and unfamiliar behavior. Personally I am exhausted, the kind of exhaustion rest doesn’t cure. I strive to be very mindful of that and how it affects the way I show up in the world. But it’s difficult. 

While talking with a friend on the phone who lives alone, she told me that what she misses the most is belly laughing with her best friend. She can wait patiently for things to reopen, to go dancing and enjoy live music again but she is craving that connection of laughter, with someone who knows her. Her insight was so profound to me, it actually took my breath away. I realized that it is the core feeling most of us are experiencing. And that’s not just a pandemic thing. That’s a life thing. This virus has shed light on what really matters. There is something intrinsically deeper than just going out that we are longing for, missing, while sheltering in place. There is a sense of belonging when we are out in the world, when we are engaging with those closest to us, a reminder of the golden thread of humanity that binds us all together and makes us more the same than we are different. Our social activities and circles of people are not merely shallow experiences of gathering, drinking, laughing, dancing and revelry. No, they represent considerably more than they appear on the surface. These interactions that feed us and nurture our soul are often reflections of our best selves, that connect us on a higher ground, a place where compassion and understanding are nurtured and have room to grow. We become better when we are surrounded with like-minded people. 

I know that I’m saddened by the current lack of civility and mindfulness that some people have toward one another. It is a heartbreaking realization that maybe we have come too far to ever find our way back to a collective kindness. In addition, my pain levels are extremely high lately, a result of my complicated autoimmune issues, making my daily routine often grueling. While I love my home and my people here, and truly feel blessed by the ease they offer me, I have no outlet for this. No warm, inviting circle of friends that remind me of the beauty in the world, no opportunity to dance that will release this relentless discomfort in my body, and no energy from others that would ease the pressure inside of me. Those things lend themselves to my current state of mind. Although I am a very positive person, I’m also deeply affected by the weight of this. 

So yeah, I think for a while we’re going to experience the ups and downs of doing the right thing by sheltering in place, as others fight against it in negative harmful ways that creep into our subconscious. Yes, we can absolutely expect that it will not always be easy. The right things seldom are. In fact they can be really fucking hard. 

But since we’re feeling what we’re feeling and we’re in this, like it or not, the big monumental takeaway here is, go ahead, let the emotional strangers in, just don’t act on them. Honor them, take your time with them and yes, speak your truth out loud to someone. 

Just maybe not the awesome partner and roomie sitting next to you at the time who would be totally blindsided by your crazy. Which reminds me, I need to go give these guys a heads up before they read this…….

Change In My Pocket

10 Comments / Personal Growth / By / April 25, 2020

You know all that spare change? The pennies, nickels and dimes that jangle in your pocket or your wallet, weighing it down until eventually you put it on the dresser and then finally into a glass jar, thinking that someday you’ll cash it all in for some real money. For a mani/pedi, a week’s worth of lattes, a road trip or a dream vacation!

That was my life. All this change…divorce, losing my home, illness, dream marriage, a new family, leaving my religion, divorce #2, moving, crazy-ass roommate, moving again, surgery with the threat of dying, my kids flying the nest, and all at once, my whole life looked different, and so much of it had happened in that very difficult past year, leaving me on shaky ground.

All that change was piling up in a jar. And I could feel the weight of it, and I realized I needed to cash it all in. Turn it into something that I could spend. Like a life that called to me. 

Numerous windows were opening around me. In the beginning though, those windows felt like walls that were closing in on me. It felt so isolating to face all these losses and uncertainty. I wasn’t recovering as planned, which limited what I could do at my job so I had no financial security. I was working on my emotional recovery too, coming to grips with my continued health issues, and knew I needed to focus on me. Suddenly having time and no commitments was a gift to me instead of an abyss of fear. An opportunity presented itself for me to visit North Carolina and I decided to just move instead. The truth is I had always wanted to live somewhere else, try something different. Be adventurous. I never did that when I was in my teens or my 20’s. So why not now?? Why not fly the nest I had so comfortably nestled into and reclaim my joy? 

People wonder what kind of person would just sell everything, pack up and move across the country, sight unseen, and start a new life…I get that question all the time, even now after 5 years. Some even wonder if I’m hiding something…I don’t know, a criminal past perhaps, some kind of deep dark secret like an alias as a boot wearing cage dancer, yeah right, or maybe a black widow killer with a dead body in my trunk…who knows?? I guess it’s brave but it’s also just not that strange to me. Timing is everything. And the timing presented itself and I was ready. I wasn’t running or hiding and fleeing. I was ready to move forward, fly out the open window, really take charge and step into my life. And it was scary and exciting and something that called to me, so I listened. I embraced the change.

I talked to my kids who gave me their love and full support because they’re awesome like that. They even said, “Mom, if you don’t like it you can always leave.” Pretty smart. So I made a plan (that eventually fell apart), took what would fit in my car, and did it. And nothing that I planned happened, not even the plan l made after the first plan fell apart. Yet everything I didn’t count on became the most wonderful, adventurous time of my life. I didn’t know what to expect from the people here, from this new culture that I had never experienced, how I would be received or what I would do to fill my time. But I trusted. And it all worked itself out, and continues to. I am still in constant transition. Still finding my way. But I’m happy, I see beauty everywhere, because that’s what I choose. And I miss my kids like crazy, my people, the comforts of home. And I love my new life, my new people, the comforts of here. I am home now.

Life is change. Some we create, some that is thrust upon us. It’s time to take all that change and turn it into something you want. A move. A new career. A heart wide open to love again. A dream vacation. A new skill. A new lease on life. Whatever.

It doesn’t have to be big and profound, it just has to be what speaks to YOU!! Because on the other side of that voice is where joy lives!

There will probably never be a point when you’re not afraid. Just a point when you decide it’s ok to be afraid and do it anyway. That’s called Bravery. So. Do. It.

When this sheltering in place order lifts, cash in that spare change and spend it, before it’s too late.

Once You’ve Shattered You’re Not Afraid To Break

4 Comments / Personal Growth / By / April 25, 2020

Who we are is somewhere between the smudged lines of the small talk we engage in, the stories we tell ourselves and give meaning to and the lens through which we view life. 

In an attempt to heal and move beyond the constraints of my depraved, abusive childhood, I set out on a journey of self discovery and growth that began in my twenties. I was in deep emotional pain, recalling memories that manifested as night terrors accompanied by an overwhelming sense of powerlessness. I was losing myself to something I couldn’t identify but it had a sinister darkness to it. I wanted desperately to create a better life for my own children and that could only be accomplished if I had the clarity to embrace all of who I was. The mental work was fierce and gut wrenching, cracking me so wide open that I could see every fracture, every nuance, every gaping open wound of my soul. I faced truths that were so horrific I was literally throwing up into a garbage can. I had been afraid that if I felt the pain of it all that it would swallow me whole and I would drown in the abyss. But in truth, it was the very thing that saved me. I became so empowered and connected to every part of myself as I peeled back the layers and found within me the ever present strength and resilience that had kept me pushing through all those years. I realized that if I could survive those experiences, I could survive anything. 

I learned which shards of my brokenness shaped my experiences and informed the decisions I had made thus far, which ones gave me strength and which ones brought me to my knees. I left no stone unturned, no memory unresolved, however painful it was. No amount of work was too grueling because I had something so precious at stake, my daughters and my very essence.

Healing from trauma, loss or abuse sets us on an unknown and often uncomfortable course of growth. The people who held me emotionally and physically captive with constant, perverse manipulation tried to rob me of my sexuality, my ability to trust or feel safe. They needed to keep me small, quiet and afraid so they could feel strong and powerful. I was a reminder of their own weakness so they tried to burn me to the ground.

                               They didn’t count on me being the fire and the ashes.   

It would be years more and two unhealthy, abusive marriages before I would cut to the core of all the residual effects I was left to work through, and I spent too much time beating myself up for that. Eventually though, it taught me that this is a pilgrimage and I was doing the best I could with what I knew. I will continue to climb mountains and reach the top and then have to do it all over again. But each time I will do it faster, easier and I will see the beauty of the view at the top so much clearer than I used to. I will look behind me and see how far I’ve come.

There have been so many gifts along the road to healing. I retrained myself to trust my intuition, I learned to listen to and love my body for everything it has given me and saved me from, and I have uncovered my voice and worthiness. I discovered in myself a passionate desire to be inclusive with others, let them know they matter, leaving no one alone and afraid if it is in my power to help them. I am an advocate of kindness and compassion. Truly, I feel fortunate that I never lost my trust in humanity and that, in fact, I am more open and vulnerable than ever. I won’t let anyone take that from me. Mostly this transformation has brought out my courage, my ability to forgive myself and others, shown me what I’m made of and especially what I value. Part of my truth now is knowing this, that we are not a product of our collective experience; we are a product of how we respond to those experiences. The world is filled with love and hope and I will bask in it because I refuse to live my life closed, bitter and afraid.

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                              Once you’ve shattered, you’re not afraid to break.

The Great Pause

7 Comments / Coping / By / April 25, 2020

My elderly client needed something, so I braced myself to go to the grocery store. It’s my job to take care of her needs. I don’t think I realized that my breathing was shallow and I was holding tension against my body as comfortably as an old sweater.

                      Oh, this pandemic. It reveals us. 

It is such a strange, unprecedented time in the world where even a simple trip for necessities can feel like a death wish. The energy is often thick with emotions. People are wearing masks, like some kind of new alien normal. It’s what is required of us. The social connection we once experienced so easily by smiling at one another has been replaced with this shadow of shame and we often avert our gaze, as if making eye contact may expose us to the fear and panic, or at very worst, the virus itself. On those rare times when my eyes meet someone else’s I’ve seen occasional sparkling, hopeful smiles but more often there are rivers of sadness, ripples of strained compassion, confusion, grief and this knowing that none of us are immune to what is happening. For many of us our minds start ruminating the minute we get into the parking lot. We have become acutely aware of where our hands are, how we are moving about and what other people are doing, touching and their proximity to us. People are considerate, thoughtful, patient. They are also mean, short tempered, selfish. There’s so much room for judgement, a silent simmering condemnation that is wrapped around the fear of contracting or carrying this virus. Our sense of comfort in the things we used to know and took for granted is all but vanished. We’re surrounded by scarcity, mourning the loss of the things that we love and things yet to come that we cannot begin to imagine.

There is no way we can escape the underlying stress that comes with living like this. Personally, it leaves me reeling, emotionally off balance, yet somehow deeply humbled and serenely grateful. I have moments of pure clarity and contentment, and so many WTF moments. 

I will tell you that I think the world was in need of a reset. A cold, hard slap in the face to rethink the way we’ve allowed ourselves to live. To ask ourselves if we like who we’re becoming. The hateful rhetoric, the greed, the me-me-me mentality and the need for instant gratification has all turned into something so ugly. We have been depleted, exhausted. If this virus is a solution or opportunity, I don’t like the way it feels but it’s here and it’s happening. I have great respect for that. Attention must be paid.

Before I share anything more, let me be very clear that I am painfully aware of the increases in suicide, depression and domestic violence since this sheltering in place began. This is not a good situation, a reality check or an open door for them to contemplate on anything but survival. They’re suffering, agonizing. My children and many friends have been affected and lost their jobs and have not been able to get the money promised them. I know people are living without basics and feeling pressure that is beyond reason because they don’t know what’s next. Those types of stressors actually create a physiological shift in our biological makeup, changing who we are. Also, I have read many things in the papers and on Facebook about taking this as a juncture to get to know ourselves or reevaluate. And those platitudes are wonderful for some but also deeply insensitive for people who are wrestling with anger, frustration, financial concerns and the absolute palpable fracture that is taking place in our country. These foriegn feelings don’t align and are a betrayal for a good person just trying to do the right thing. Even with positive self-talk and relying on their instincts and resilience some of the best people I know are struggling and hate everything about this isolation. More than the virus itself they fear becoming an angry, negative person. Every time somebody suggests how to make it better they just want to tell them to fuck off. 

                                                That’s human and valid. It’s all valid.

So please know those are not the people I’m talking about here. I’m not here telling anybody what would work for them. I am offering insight from my own experiences and what they’ve taught me, because I needed a way to cope so I can function everyday.  I know how fortunate I am to be able to spend time contemplating. 

I believe that practicing intention and mindfulness over the past few years has given me tools for how to stay centered. I also believe that my illness and life of trauma has prepared me for something like this. It has been necessary for me to learn to slow down and listen. Consequently, I don’t panic or spend too much time worrying, I stay curious, open. I feel like I was born for transition and change, a gift in many ways. Nothing in this world is as consistent as change. I wrote earlier about my emotional fragility and that’s a very real, unpredictable issue for me. Allowing myself the time to sit and quiet the chatter in my head so I can hear what my feelings are trying to tell me is the most cleansing thing I do for myself. Where is my sadness coming from, what am I really missing and if we never go back to the ‘normal’ we’ve known, what would I want in its place?

Granted, it takes me a while to wrap my head around it and I’m kind of a train wreck in between but eventually I get there. 

I believe that we can be both mindful and fearful. Fear just informs us. It doesn’t decide for us. These extreme fluctuations we’re experiencing can teach us something we can come back to later. I know so many of us are just hanging on by a thread right now, feeling ugly inside, overly sensitive, lost. It’s okay to lean into the emotions we’re having right now whether it’s anger, frustration or just an urge to give up for a while. We’re not going to unpack and live there. We’re going to kick back in our emotional easy chair and just let the feelings run through our body. Notice them. No judgement. We’ll find our way to the necessary decisions we need to make. Seriously, we don’t need the additional burden of worrying about that. Just do the best we can at this moment. 

From my conversations I have come to believe that before this pandemic hit we were all doing some things in our lives that needed changing. Maybe we were living above our financial means or mismanaging our money. Maybe we were spending too much time seeking distractions because we didn’t want to face the truth of our lives. Maybe we were missing something in our soul we never allowed ourselves to have. Maybe we were saying yes to shit we didn’t really want to do. Maybe we knew our minds and bodies needed a break but we never gave ourselves permission to stop and figure out what that looks like. Maybe, just maybe, this is helping us realize that we want to be more prepared for uncertainty, both emotionally and financially. Maybe now we can take an honest, introspective inventory of what matters. When the world reopens it will be slowly, deliberately, and we always have the choice of how quickly we want to jump back into things. There’s beauty in taking a break…

In pausing so we can listen. 

I’m deeply touched by and grateful for all the helpers I see out there right now. Literally hundreds of people are coming forward to do their part and that inspires me to be a part of it. It keeps me grounded in hope. And also now, from the stress of being compelled to comply, there’s this sense of urgency from certain people that just want things to go back to normal. I can relate to that too. But I don’t really believe there is such a thing. Our normal wasn’t healthy. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to go back to any of that. I’m not interested in picking up where we left off. 

I believe we can and must do better and that we possess the heart and soul to make that happen. 

Empath Extrovert Dichotomy

8 Comments / Coping / By / April 25, 2020

I’ve been writing more lately. And less too. I’m having a more difficult time organizing my thoughts. So all the words splash against the pages like a hurricane. As with any emotion that takes me from the present moment I’m in, I stay curious about what I’m feeling until it reveals itself to me. Turns out, sadness seems to be my companion lately, shadowing me through my daily activities in a state of thoughtfulness and pensive adagio. I try to smile through it, but it lingers and longs to be heard. Honored. I want it to go away. 

I woke this morning to the sound of rain, the lulling pitter-patter against my skylight beckoning me awake and into ruminating thought, my little ‘sad’ partner in crime still with me, like it had any right to be in my bed. I lay awake for some time then decided to put my warm feet against the chilly floor, drape in my soft robe and go downstairs to make coffee. In the quiet of the morning, dim, drizzled light coming through the glass doors, the aroma of caffeine wafting in the air, I turned to my computer, to release the spinning, whirling randomness that is keeping my mind busy. I sat, staring at a blank screen, wondering if I should be worried about this feeling and why I can’t seem to shake it. And then it hit me. I decided it’s not so bad to have this emotion, this passionate underpinning of hypersensitivity that allows me to be aware of what is going on in the world. To feel it as if it’s my own. To mourn, grieve, experience the losses that are not even happening to me.

                                                              I am an empath. 

For me, all of a sudden everything distant feels close to home and deeply personal. I can’t help but pay attention to and absorb the energy around me, so consequently I feel a lot of different emotional responses from people. It is simultaneously stressful and enlightening. It has heightened my sensitivity and awareness and requires me to manage my reactions. I strive to notice things without internalizing them as mine. It also reminds me to be more kind, generous and loving because I feel their pain, loss and struggle. 

It took me a long time to understand what it means to be an empath and how to channel that so it doesn’t knock me into a deep depression or exhaust me mentally. Staying grounded through difficult times is very important for me. Self-awareness is necessary so I can sort what is mine and what is not. I have grown into the idea that my energy and mood are palpable to other people and that can be difficult. When I am feeling joyful and carefree it is contagious to everyone around me, likewise when I am carrying any kind of sadness or pain it can be a source of weight and burden for them. I often want to be left alone until it passes, perhaps residual bullshit stemming from a childhood of constantly being told that my feelings weren’t allowed. Period. Those shades of shame have turned into light and color as I’ve grown. I am learning that my responsibility is to myself and how I manage that, and allow others to do the same. For the most part, I have found balance with this gift, something that doesn’t always fit in a world of cynicism. 

I no longer want this to go away. As I give it space inside of me I find a delicate, lovely zen. I am grateful that I have been able to feel this much during the pandemic. Not because I want the pain, but because I think what I surrender to keeps me open and humble, what I fight against keeps me stuck. As humans, we tend to resist negative feelings, viewing them as the enemy to our happiness. Too much tragedy and death can seem overwhelming, a current we swim against to protect our sanity. Yet in many ways it is my anchor, the very thing that keeps me sane, this bittersweet blending of my world and the rest of the world where I can gain perspective and even hope because there’s so much more happening than just the bad things. And the world is bigger than just me, my circumstances, my well being.

It is unusual that an empath is an extrovert but here I am! I have found a comfortable way to enhance my life with it. It was my guy who recently reminded me that perhaps it is affecting me more deeply right now because I have no social outlet for the flood of emotions running through me. I gather and release energy from other people. Laughter is a stress reliever, as is hugging. I have deliberately and with intention crafted a life I love with people who are beautiful, honest and authentic, easy to be around. As much as I love the opportunities I’m having in isolation, I am deeply missing those other parts of my life. Honestly, that hadn’t occurred to me on this level until he said it. It rings true to me. 

As I finish writing this, I look up. The rain has taken a pause, like our world. The light has shifted, peeking through the trees in my backyard creating this dance of uninhibited grace as it carries the branches on the breeze, droplets of water shimmering on the leaves in the sun’s golden rays. I feel renewed peace. In a world of uncertainty, all I have is what I choose to do with what I’ve been given, here and now. I will lean into these moments with a contemplative outlook, mindfulness, openness. I will seek ways to experience all my emotions, to give them all a safe home in me. Embrace. Enhance. 

Feed my soul with everything I am feeling.

Fragility, The New Normal?

1 Comment / Coping / By / April 25, 2020

Last week I was chillin’ with my guy and roommate as we spent another night isolating together. We came across some fun karaoke on TV and the next thing I know we were all singing Lean On Me. Maybe we were feeling a bit sentimental over Bill Withers recent death but we just broke into this beautiful harmonious sharing of emotions through a familiar song. I was carried away by waves of gratitude and this undeniable comfort in the unity of our voices, the affection we all share and the knowing that we are not alone in this. I was simultaneously washed in grief, sadness and a longing for the life that I miss. Live music, actual karaoke, dancing, the laughter and physical connection with my friends. 

One song turned into an evening of laughter and music and then all of a sudden a headline on my phone grabbed my attention. Next moment I found myself crying as I read the latest news story of a retired couple in Florida that just died from the Coronavirus. They had been married for 51 years, were inseparable, healthy, happy. They were fine, and then, they weren’t. They died 6 minutes apart. And when I read that I just totally lost it. I almost couldn’t bear it. I was angry and hurt and scared. I was heartbroken. 

I didn’t even know these people. I recognized that as the beginning of a wave of fragility that seems to have become my shadow. I find myself crying easily these days, mourning for these families, the lives lost that cannot be celebrated, grieving for what might come for all of us. Yet on many levels I’m loving so much about this. 

Because I knew these feelings weren’t normal for me, I gave myself some quiet time and space to  listen and see what they had to tell me. This is how I’ve been able to identify what I need, because the only constant is how much this whole dynamic changes. Maybe a few things I’ve discovered will resonate and help you.

I have lowered my bar for productivity. 

You might say it’s so low that I could walk right over it and not even notice it’s there. I didn’t expect to be so emotionally sensitive right now because honestly there’s a lot about this quarantine that I am enjoying. But I allow and learn from all of my feelings, experience them without judgment or a need to fix it. I take my time with them and that is why I have chosen to exist in a guilt-free zone, free from expectations that I can’t fulfill right now. I’ve learned that if I do not honor the space I’m in it will get the best of me. I write, I work on projects but I have no agenda other than my job. I don’t need to feel pressured in my spare time, so we’re kinda flying by the seat of our pants around here. Part of lowering my bar has been just listening to what my body needs now, since I can’t enjoy my regular de stressing activities. 

I limit my exposure to social media and news.

Too much news from any source or hostility on FB can feed depression. I find that an excess of information or negative energy zaps me, making it difficult to enjoy the moment I’m living in and remember that I am, right now, safe and comfortable. It’s different for everyone but finding a balance is always very important for me. The world won’t stop without me knowing about it. If I need to skip it all for a day or two it will be there when I get back to it. 

I’ve been paying particular attention to the things I do naturally, organically without thinking. 

I don’t waste much time figuring things out. I remain curious, allowing myself to notice what feels right to me. For example the places I spend time in my home, or the foods that I want to eat. I’ve discovered that when I’m not at work I am gravitating between these spaces…

A)  My bright, spacious kitchen.

B) My comfy, colorful front porch with its cozy welcoming swing.

C) The writing nook in my bedroom, with my worn leather chair, eclectic art, warm throws and twinkle lights.

D) The sofa in the living room where my guy and I binge watch NetFlix/Amazon/Hulu, eat, laugh, unwind and talk for hours. Lowkey and easy.

Those are obviously the places where I am finding comfort, quiet or a general sense of safety. I’m not going to feel bad about the amount of time I spend in any of those places. Also, I do my best to maintain my regular eating style but I don’t feel guilty when I want comfort food. Especially the vodka I start consuming as soon as I walk in the door. It’s always 5:00 around here now.

Self Care is vital for me. 

Generally, I think we understand what self-care looks like, but with all the underlying stress and ever-changing parameters those needs can change daily. Self care can evolve as we do. A big part of self-care for me is honoring all of my feelings. When I sit with them without judgment and learn from them I give my body permission to feel everything without being overwhelmed by any of it. No emotions are scary for me anymore, they are my teachers. And no, you don’t get to feel guilty because you’re not taking care of yourself enough or the right way or too much. Or if you read this and say “Damn it woman, are you out of your mind, I don’t have time for self-care!?!”, that’s okay. Anything you need to do, or not, right now is okay, in any time frame you can. Okay? Tuck it away for later and use it if it makes sense. Paying Attention. Again, big asset for me right now. I had some time on Sunday so I went out in the backyard and just sat in the sun. I played some of my favorite music and sang along at the top of my lungs even though there were other people out in their backyards who could hear me. I didn’t care, either did they. That’s what I needed so that’s what I did. Twirling is good for my soul so one afternoon I wore a flowy dress and danced in my living room. Sometimes I need to watch something that is totally mindless…or read a book that feeds my spirit and offers me a break from the chaos. Sometimes just congregating with the people I isolate with is the most familiar, pleasant thing in the world no matter what we’re doing. Even the smallest things like wearing my boyfriend’s shirt kinda wraps me up in comfort. Hugely important to me and something I can do whenever. 

Lean into the good stuff.

Slightly different from self care, I am surrendering to the things I can’t change, by leaning into the positive things this circumstance has to offer. I am learning what I hold important and true, what I want to keep and let go of once the world reopens and I am offered more choices again. You can practice sheltering in place, find the beauty it has given you, and still miss the life you’ve put on hold. The more you listen the more you will find your way with this. I have had the most extraordinary experience with my guy being here 24/7, someone I’d only known for 6 months, give or take when we decided to isolate together. I’m basking in being around someone who is like-minded, finds joy and opportunity in the situation as I do, while recognizing my need to talk, cry or feel homesick for what was. I couldn’t really ask for anything more perfect. This pause has given us time to know each other and nurture a very important part of our relationship, something I especially want to hold on to. 

Stay connected.

For me, physical contact, connection and face to face interaction is the backbone of how I live. Staying in touch has helped with the loss and loneliness of my social nights out, as well as ease my mind when I am especially concerned for someone’s well-being. I’ve been very good about reaching out to certain people. What surprised me was to discover how terribly bad I am at it also. There are definitely people I have thought about but not reached out to, and that is so unlike me. I have discovered that I need to shelter in silence sometimes or just focus on the moment I’m in. As social as I am I am also deeply introspective and set aside time for that. It’s perfectly okay to do whatever you need as you learn what works for you.

Get outside every day and get some fresh air and sunshine.

Even if it’s just to sit on your front porch, walk down the block or chill in your backyard with a glass of wine. There’s a whole world out there and a big beautiful sky that can shift your perspective, remind you you’re not alone and all you have to do is look around, look up, breathe in and out. Do it. I guarantee you’ll feel better. 

Make necessary plans that will lay to rest any concerns about what would happen if you contract this virus.

Look, this isn’t anybody’s favorite subject but it just makes sense right now that someone knows what your plans are. It sounds obvious, but if you don’t make plans now, in writing, your loved ones are going to be dealing with those mind-numbing details during the most emotional time of their lives. We all know this pandemic is changing the way we do things. Your insurance information, preferred medical facility, where tests are available are vital if they’re needed. As far as the bigger picture, it doesn’t have to be some long drawn-out thing and it doesn’t have to have this dark cloud attached to it. It’s an act of love and generosity towards my family and it’s calming to have that piece in place.

Emotional fragility, feeling of being overwhelmed and like we don’t know what we’re doing or even thriving and wishing it would never end are all normal responses related to this pandemic. There’s no one or right way to do this and hopefully we can create ways that help us navigate through the life that we need to be living right now. 

Puh-lease Can We Show A Little Grace

17 Comments / Coping / By / April 25, 2020

I’ve seen some lovely, positive and even very funny posts on Facebook lately, as people create alternatives for the way we connect and do their part to bring comic relief to this stressful situation. I’ve also been seeing a lot of backhanded shaming that looks like this…’if you don’t like staying at home you must not like your home’ or ‘you should use this time to be more productive’ and my personal favorite, ‘this is God’s gift to slow down the world so you can take time to center yourself and find out who you really are’. I don’t think any of these ideas by themselves are inherently wrong, but something about them kinda irritated me, rubbed me the wrong way. I couldn’t figure it out for a while, but here it is. Verbiage is important and there is a huge difference between sharing how you are navigating through this and telling somebody what they ‘should’ be doing or how they ‘should’ feel.  

                 We cannot presume our experience is everyone else’s experience. 

Last time I checked we were in the middle of a global pandemic. I don’t know about you but I’ve never had to do this before. And nobody, literally nobody knows what the fuck they’re doing. We’re figuring it out as we go. We’re leaning into information as it comes in and we’re doing the best we can. So I want to call a timeout on all the shaming. Please stop acting like everyone else is in the same situation you are. The universal truth is that this pandemic doesn’t discriminate and we don’t know what’s next. 

                   We are all affected but we are all affected differently. 

Let me share some insight as to what I’ve seen so far that people are going through and expressing, starting with my part of my own experience. 

I am considered high risk so in many ways I am a walking time bomb for those I shelter with and the elderly client that I care for. My hours have been increased so our risk has increased. Although I do everything I can to protect myself I think it is inevitable that this virus will find its way to me, which of course will affect my finances and living situation. Also, I am currently in need of another surgery that I cannot have in the foreseeable future. My three children and grandchildren live across the country and their physical, financial and emotional well being is always on my mind. While I do not focus on these things they are part of me every minute. I have single friends who have anxiety and find this kind of isolation a deep trigger as they deal with fear on a regular basis, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy by hoarding and panic buying. Relief for them is fleeting and made worse by the massive onslaught of information, news and updates. The number of domestic violence cases has increased exponentially since this pandemic began and many victims are forced to shelter with their abusive partner. Suicide rates are increasing. There are families out there who cannot feed their children or pay their bills and any kind of promised assistance comes slowly, if at all. Many of my friends who work in essential positions are mistreated, disrespected and in large degree unprotected because of the shortages. They are not getting paid enough, they are afraid, exhausted and yet they have no choice but to show up every day. For so many the present and the unknown future is filled with despair. With the additional burden of homeschooling, remote access for high schools and universities, which means a learning curve for children, parents and teachers, so much more is going on than just an opportunity for ‘free time to develop a new hobby’. These things all carry a great weight which can create an unfamiliar level of stress that we can’t begin to imagine if we are in a safe, comfortable environment. We need to be mindful of this. That is entirely in our control. 

I’m going to say this as often as I can and that is we’re all allowed to be and feel whatever we need to right now. This is your experience. If you feel like it would be beneficial to stay grounded or become more mindful and you’re not sure where to begin, then by all means reach out to someone trusted who would be able to offer you guidance with that. If you’d like to write the next great novel or completely remodel your inner sanctum, have at it. But do not, I repeat, DO NOT spend one second feeling guilty about anything. Because you’re not doing enough. Or you’re not doing it right. Or you’re doing it begrudgingly. Or you’re stuffing your pie hole, chillin’ on the couch, binge watching mindless TV. Blah. Blah. Blah.

                                 Consider this time of your life a guilt-free zone. 

It’s okay to unfollow people on Facebook. It’s okay to ugly cry out of the blue. It’s okay to really, really hate this and follow the rules anyway. It’s okay to have the urge to run someone over in the Food Lion parking lot as long as you keep that thought to yourself. There is no one way to do this and it is highly likely that what serves you now will change later, even tomorrow. That is all okay. You can be a mess and a marvel all at once. I do it all the time.

Allowing your life to be a guilt-free zone takes practice. Navigating your way through a global pandemic that has literally shifted the way we live and show up in the world takes practice. Death rates that increase in numbers, steal our loved ones, threaten our very mode of survival and bring entire countries down create stressors we cannot even begin to understand. Learning how to ground yourself when you feel like the very foundation upon which you existed has been broken and shattered takes practice. Coming to terms with the grief, the loss, and the fear takes practice. Being afraid but still showing up in life everyday takes practice. 

So can we please stop being insensitive to each other and start offering support or just mind our own fucking business? Please. It’s making people cry. And yes, hypersensitivity is a symptom of extreme stress. Can we step out of our little boxes and imagine for a moment what some of these other situations feel like? Except for the mean, stupid people who just get meaner and more stupid, we’re all just doing the best we can here. 

To be clear, I love my home, I am all about mindfulness, productivity, finding beauty and trying to live a life away from drama and negativity. I’m also all about listening to what I need, day drinking to cope, and spending time doing absolutely nothing. I’m grieving and this is hard. It’s also really beautiful sometimes. I honor all of that. And the last thing I am entitled to is judging anybody for doing what they need to get through the day. I don’t live in their life, I’m not in their head. I don’t know what trauma and crisis looks like for them. Either do you. If you’re posting stuff and don’t know how you come across then please check yourself. We should always be checking ourselves. That’s what grown-ups do. Enjoy your surroundings, your new found free time and hobbies, but also remember that not everybody is finding joy or comfort in this. That whole thing your mama taught you about walking a mile in someone else’s shoes was preparing you for this moment. 

            If there was ever a time to show each other a little grace, it is now. 

Almost, But Not Quite

3 Comments / Coping / By / April 25, 2020

I’m sitting on my porch swing. It’s early. Except for the birds trilling their usual lilting, melodic greeting, the morning is still, the air thick, sticky like butter with warmth, creamy color and humidity, the surrender to Spring in the air. It’s eerily hushed, as it often is in my little neighborhood, tucked away from the prying eyes of passers-by and traffic. It almost feels like any other morning. There is no Pandemic. No life altering virus that has changed the very fiber of our existence. 

Everything is almost. But not quite.

So what is it? And will life ever be the same?

That was a question posed to me by a dear friend as we contemplated the current emotional, economical and social implications of COVID-19. I think it is a question on the mind of everyone right now as we adjust to what we call ‘our new normal’, a clearly confusing path overgrown with misinformation, frightening realities, isolation orders, uncertainty, differing opinions, fear and panic. Businesses are closing, lay-offs are increasing by the minute, essential workers are putting their lives at risk on the front lines daily with limited protection. People we don’t know have become part of our virtual family as the numbers of infected and dying roll through the newsreel. This could be our neighbor. Our parent. Someone we infect without even knowing it. This could be us. We watch and wait. We wait some more. 

It’s scary and not just for the risks of the virus itself but for the shaky ground we now live on.

We miss our friends, our activities, gatherings of celebration, weddings, birthdays, graduations, the milestones that have become our bedrock, the centerpiece from which love and joy flow freely. The cultural experiences, art, music, laughter and interactions that connect and nurture us and the very things that offer us calm in a storm, a reminder of our human connection have dissipated, slowly, steadily, like glitter on the breeze. Familiarity, closeness, truths we can count on have become fragile, all when we need them the most. It is teetering and tenuous. We didn’t realize just how much it all mattered until it was gone. Gradually, and then…all gone.

Poof. Just like that.

So? Now what? Will life ever be the same?

I think about this a lot and I hope not.

I hope that as we are compelled to slow down and pay attention to how we socialize, mingle in common places, and how we spend our time isolating, that we will embrace and absorb that beautiful awareness of how other people are doing, of how we respond to our soul’s need for self care, and how we show up in the world. This world that we share and coexist in. More than ever this is an opportunity to soften and hold tightly to that concern that ever so tenderly rests upon our hearts and nudges us to put ourselves in another person’s situation and then follow that instinct to reach out, be kind, be mindful. 

There is little to protect us now that doesn’t require coming together with our collective awareness, involvement and cooperation. Every stressful moment reminds us to dig deeply and willingly give way from our comfort zone, practice selflessness and do what is necessary to fight this. It begs our attention. Our intention. 

While I have seen much panic, hoarding, fear and selfishness I have also witnessed such lovely gestures of humanity and altruism throughout this pandemic so far. People are creating alternatives for bringing friends together that honor the situation while cultivating and living in a space of gratitude. I am inspired daily by the people who are willing to put themselves at risk to take care of us, provide food, healthcare and simple conveniences that we would otherwise do without. There is a great deal to be thankful for and those are the things we must focus on if we are to navigate our way through this difficult time. None of us have done this before. It is deeply personal yet also very impersonal that it knows no age, race, gender or status. 

It is hard to imagine how this will look when it ends. If it ends. It’s likely to get worse before it gets better. But I’m a big optimistic enthusiast of hope and I cannot help but believe that some very beautiful, cleansing things will emerge from this for those of us who are willing to recognize it for the gifts it holds and allow it to shift our way of being. 

We’re all allowed to be and feel whatever we need to right now. Times of uncertainty call for that. We’re also allowed to still be grateful for what we can do and the new truths we can create.

For my part, aside from doing what I can to distance and isolate, I’m sharing my insights and throwing out some great big love and light for the world!