I lay in bed in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, trying to stay awake as my daughter tells me a story. I slept, in and out of consciousness for a couple of hours, my mind racing and circling around topics I could not let go.
Sitting up in bed, an image comes to me of a cell phone searching for a signal, the battery steadily drained of life.
Grasping for certainty is exhausting work. This task becomes more grueling when inner turmoil is compounded by exterior circumstances.
I am most settled when I have a clear purpose and a steady sense of the Divine. When either of those wanes, the other suffers too. Uncertain of myself, I cannot seem to hold God steady in my view; and uncertain of the Divine, my sense of self threatens to crumble.
This time of social isolation brings the gift of space to breathe. Space to think. Space to consider the direction, meaning, and purpose of my life. It is a rare and bizarre opportunity, and one I do not want to waste.
So often life unfolds unintentionally. The pressure and pace of life presses us into quick, reflective decisions often lacking intentionality. Our life becomes a compounded series of emotional and pressure-laden decisions which removes all the margins from our days.
I realized the other morning as I made my coffee without hurry, how rare these unhurried moments have been prior to COVID-19. Now, they are commonplace. So why, with all this space in my days, do I feel so tired all the time?
With so much possibility in front of me, the sheer magnitude of options exhausts my brain as I carefully weigh each option until a new, creative option enters my mind. So many options are overwhelming and so often I end up doing nothing at all. The screen time on my phone steadily rises as the pull of checking every social media app on my phone pulls at me with a relentlessness which takes incredible energy to ignore. I am energized by productivity. I thrive on accomplishing as much as possible in each day, and yet here I sit, with more time at my disposal than ever before, and I am exhausted.
In part, this “disposable time” is an illusion as time completely alone is practically non-existent and time to apply full concentration is minimal. So here I sit, searching for a signal. My brain running at full speed during all waking (and some sleeping) hours, unable to fully concentrate and unable to stop thinking.
My signal is weak, my battery steadily draining, and recharging becomes a mechanism for survival rather than for thriving. I must accept survival mode, for as much as I long to thrive, I cannot push my way into this space. The good news is I am surviving, and I am grateful for the activities recharge my batteries, even if those batteries are always rapidly draining.
Here are my #SurvivalPractices:
1. Yoga & Dance. We started practicing yoga toward the beginning of the COVID shelter-in-place. One day, I noticed how unsettled I was as we began our #yoga practice. My body, mind, and spirit akin to a nervous twitch, I had no desire to be present on the mat.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Stretch. Hold. Lengthen. Release.
Thirty minutes later, I breathed deeply, fully, and for a moment, at peace.
Namaste: The light in me bows to the light in you.
Ah, light. Light is breath and survival and life. My life, bowing to yours. I am okay again.
Yoga gives me the gift of regulated breathing, being present in my body, and of intentional
slowness. Taking ballet class via video conference provides similar benefits.
2. Writing. Like yoga, writing allows me to be present to myself – to be attune to what is going on inside, and in attempting to put words to my experiences, I use language to create meaning. It is a mindful and creative practice which makes space for healing.
3. Finding a Creative Fun Outlet. My girls and I have been creating funny videos together, and this has been probably the most fun I have had during this pandemic. When I am feeling particularly low on energy/motivation, creating a fun video with my kids has given me a burst of joy nearly every time. (You can find a small selection of these silly videos HERE.)
4. Taking a Walk. Nearly every day since the beginning of the shelter-in-place, we have taken a walk as a family.
The benefits both of regular walking/exercise and of being outside are well-documented as a simple google search will show.
Unhurried time out in nature, watching our children running through grassy fields, exploring footprints, splashing through streams, and playing together while talking with one another has been a life-breathing practice for me, my husband, and our girls.
Our conservation district has remained open throughout this pandemic and we thoroughly enjoy exploring new and favorite outdoor escapes.
5. Accepting Uncertainty. Many days, doubts, fears, and uncertainties leave me overwhelmed and panicked. I second-guess my actions, I fear the unknown, and I wrestle with my doubts about the reality of God. In those moments, sometimes I remember to remind myself to #AcceptUncertainty. I remind myself I can have no assurances. I remind myself how restrictive life becomes when I go in search of a false sense of certainty. I remind myself life can only be found in showing up amidst uncertainty. When I halt my search for illusive security, I create the space for peace. When I allow myself to be present to my feelings and fears without desperately clawing for reassurance, I find the space to continue living. (Try this Prayer of Welcoming as a practice of acceptance.)
Many days, these activities do not leave me thriving, but they do create some space to keep on going.
Maybe right now, that is enough.
Until next time, may God hold us close, in darkness and in light,
Jen
The stories and meanings here are my own stories and my own experiences. While I do hope they help you on your own journey, they are not therapy or a replacement for therapy. I am not a therapist, and nothing here should be used as a replacement for professional services.
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