I Am. We Are.
Photo: Zdeněk Macháček
“Tonight as it gets cold
tell yourself
what you know which is nothing
but the tune your bones play
as you keep going. ”
So many of us are hanging on by a thread, if that. Health insurance nightmares, trying to find a therapist when so many are booked or folks can't afford out of pocket costs, strained finances, relationships, breaking points. Covid on top of the stressors that have long been baked in the American way of life has people more isolated, overwhelmed, and exhausted than ever.
Seems a good number of my clients are experiencing versions and degrees of the above. For some, the holiday season is a welcome reminder of life's joys, while others might sooner commence hibernating till the spring equinox right about now. The pressure to keep going is not hyperbolic when there are papers to grade, bills to pay, finals to take, deadlines to meet, and mouths to feed -- not to mention a desire to just, you know, live. While I do believe in the power of resilience, resilience that asks more and more of us as individuals without guaranteeing equal, consistent, and attainable resources is a sham.
Our country is more fractured than ever, and that's really saying something. I hear things about life after Covid, or the post-pandemic era, and it's like being in a twilight zone. How is the pandemic over when 1,000 Americans die each day from this virus? Or do people feel like it's over for them if their personal risk is lower due to being vaccinated and/or boosted? I also imagine that for some, it's a way to try to compartmentalize, which is understandable.
For the Covid-conscientious, decision-making remains a field filled with land mines, where every step requires deliberation, risk assessment, research, and conversation. There's a worn-down quality I can't even find a way to quantify in words here. Our reserves, for those privileged enough to have had any in the first place, are threadbare.
Privilege is still real, but don't use it as a weapon against yourself. You get to be cognizant of your privilege without making yourself wrong for struggling. The two aren't on opposing teams, and the more we can make room for this, the better off we'll be.
You are allowed to thrive. I think there's some shame for those who are doing really well right now. Maybe the pandemic brought newfound clarity about things, or edged you towards letting go of relationships or ways of being that sucked the life out of your spirit. Maybe a global pandemic has validated your desire to slow down, and you're sticking to that commitment even as the world has returned to its usual bonkers pace. Maybe you initiated new rhythms and routines that centered how much you deserve peace in your home and days. If any of these are true for you, please for the love of all things beautiful, celebrate that and sing it from the rooftops. It does not mean you don't care. You downplaying your own delights and successes serves no purpose.
Next time someone asks, "How are you?" try out this wonderful answer I saw recently in a cartoon on Instagram: "I am." I mean, that question! It's like being handed a Rubik's Cube while someone sets a timer for 30 seconds but tells you, no pressure. Yes, pressure! How am I? How are you? We don't even know. But we are -- that much is true.
Make a list. It could be a list of things you know to be true, or of things you can control and things you can't control, or what you really want to say, or what you wish would happen. Sometimes making lists is easier than "writing." You don't have to complete the list all at once. You can listen for things throughout the day and add to it here and there throughout the week. The list can be just that, a list. Or it may provide a clue, a hidden action step, an unexpected revelation you hadn't seen before.
Come back to the breath. I know this may seem trite, but it helps. Sharon Salzberg talks about the magic moment in meditation, and it's when you realize you're totally lost in la-la land. She writes, "The moment you realize you’ve been distracted is the magic moment." It's the moment of noticing and returning. The return might only last for a second, and that is ok. Come back again and again (and again).
Be honest, if only with one other human. This could be a friend, a spiritual leader in your life, a coach, a therapist, or your neighbor who happens to be walking by while your dog poops in the yard. You do not have to mask your grief or put on a happy face or look on the bright side. You get to say, "I am." You get to say, "I am terrible." You get to be real.
As we head into the darkest dark over these next 11 days, do what you can to bring in extra comfort, extra ease. Everything counts. A cup of tea, a walk, a soak, a show, a meal, a call, a snooze, a laugh, a cry. The world is aching and our own country falls short and breaks people in a thousand ways every day.
Please know that if you are feeling it all, you're not alone.