I got a new shirt

1. Truth: Things have gotten really weird. It’s not like things were calm and collected before the global pandemic, so maybe it’s more accurate to say that things are weirder, have reached a whole new level of weird. Here where I live, those who can are working remotely, all schools have moved classes online, yoga studios are offering exclusively online classes or closing altogether, the gyms are closed, all restaurants have moved to delivery or take out only or have closed indefinitely, the libraries are closed, therapists are shifting sessions online, my yoga class I teach is suspended until further notice, grocery stores have restricted their hours to give employees more time to stock shelves and clean and hopefully rest. I worry about those who are losing work and have no buffer to support them during this time, and try to help where I can, (like paying for my upcoming haircut appointment even though I’m going to cancel it or donating to the local food bank). I am actually so glad that I live somewhere that is being so careful, but oh how I’m going to miss my yoga class, and the pool and sauna, and the places that inevitably have to close down for good and teachers that have to consider other professions because they can’t survive the sustained loss of income.

2. Truth: I’ve been preparing for this for the past nine months, the staying isolated at home and the social distancing. I retired in May, and since then I’ve been dealing with a deep burnout. This and my privilege means that for me, beyond the gym closing and my yoga class not happening and not being able to go wherever I want when I want or see friends in person and my husband being home more and an increased anxiety about our health and that of those we love, not much has changed for me in terms of my day to day life. It does add a level of guilt to the process, as it seems like the theme of the day is to do lots of deep cleaning and home improvement, or to create content and opportunities, offering support for those who aren’t going out, and I just don’t have the energy.

3. Truth: I’m concerned, even scared, but my routines are helping me stay grounded. My husband has been making short trips to his office on his empty campus to do some of his work (as an online teaching “expert,” he’s been giving lots of support to those now having to move their courses online), and I spend that time meditating, writing, doing yoga, keeping up with what’s going on in the world, reading books, watching TV, listening to podcasts, cooking, napping with the dogs, doing chores around the house — pretty normal days, not too much unlike before things went off the rails.

One wish: May we be happy, may we be healthy, may we be safe, and may we live with ease. May we come out of this crisis more connected, recommitted to the values of a culture of care, and reminded of the importance of collectively cultivating our inherent wisdom and compassion.

1. I keep waiting for my energy to come back. To be honest, I’m starting to worry that it won’t, that this is my new normal. And just when I start to freak out about that a little, I remind myself that healing takes time and I need to be patient.

2. My urge to teach may, at least in part, be me avoiding writing. I have so many ideas and plans for classes, and I realized the other day I was allowing them to take priority over my writing plans and projects. I’ve wanted to be a writer since the 2nd grade, when I realized it was a thing people did, a thing I could do, and I think now that I finally, finally, finally have the opportunity, I’m hesitant to start. I need to get out of my own way. This is helping: Elizabeth Gilbert’s free 10-step Writing Academy.

3. Every idea I have, my mind leaps immediately to how I can monetize it, share it, turn it into “something.” I have lost touch with my ability to create for the sake of creation, and it has me a little stuck. I need to simply make stuff for the sake of making — for joy, for insight, for release, for ease, for clarity…for nothing. Again, I need to be patient.

One wish: That we remember to rest, that we trust it takes time to shift things, that our effort doesn’t have to result in a particular something, that it can be nothing, that none of it has to happen quickly, and that our effort and ease don’t have to have value beyond our own experience of them. Be patient. Keep going. Don’t give up.