We All Fall Down

There are a lot of loud, compelling voices out there right now. The more we pay attention to outside voices, the less we hear from ourselves. I’ve been hesitant to write because I’ve found silence to be more additive and nourishing than anything else lately. I don’t want to add to the detraction. But I also feel a responsibility to offer whatever I can. So here we go.

The amount of information digestion that’s been required of us all these last few weeks is staggering. I don’t have any data. I don’t have any solutions. I don’t have any tips or tricks to get through this. I don’t need you to feel better. I want to be with you where you’re at. So let’s slow down, take some big ole’ breaths, and connect with what’s happening inside of us before going any further.

We good?

Nothing makes me more stressed than feeling like I shouldn’t be stressed. So let’s try to get past the prideful, shame driven story lines about how we should and shouldn’t be feeling. I’m stressed. I’m worried. Okay, yeah, of course. That’s perfectly fine. When I feel myself pushing away actuality, I know I need open my heart up and listen.

I also know that stress is advice repellent for me. That rebellious kid pops up whenever I’m in the throes of it, rolling eyes and groaning in dismission of anyone, or anything that offers advice.  Everything just feels like another thing “to do”. Do something else?! I’m already doing so much.

We’ve all had a thick coat of springtime stress doused us on from the plastic wand sprayer above. So check in with yourself first. What kind of head-space are you in? Where are you feeling neglected? What’s on your mind? How receptive are you feeling? Spend time with yourself, not watching TV, on your phone, or doing anything else. Just sit and breathe. And listen for your stress signals. I guarantee they’re blaring right now.

As the sage Pema Chödrön says, “abandon all hope of fruition”. Meaning, stop trying to make it better and just be with yourself as you currently are. It’s overwhelming when, in the middle of a crisis, we feel like we have to reinvent ourselves in order to deal with it. It’s easy for us to put too much pressure on ourselves to turn big, horrible things into something positive and grand. You don’t have to become someone different. Who ever you are right now is just fine.

It’s our nature to label unwanted things as a “problematic” or “negative”. These labels only encourage us to run further from them. When these “problems” pop-up, the predicament is two-fold. We deemed this thing as bad, so it hurts, and feeling this thing reminds us that we’re never fully in control.

Different and problematic are not synonymous. When we go through life changes (like we’re all doing right now) we’re going to feel different ways than we’re used to. That just comes with the territory. It’s not bad or good, it just is. Now is the time to try and expand what we’re willing to feel. It’s time to gently probe the moralistic assumptions that underlie so much of the inner workings. Good? Bad? Why? Says who?

This article helped me gather my thoughts and I paraphrase from it in the following paragraphs.

A sudden health threat that changes everything? Wishing things would just go back to normal? Robbed of future opportunity? Bitter over being forced into a certain way of life? It might never end? Hmm, sounds familiar. Welcome to the world of grief.

There are certainly different levels of grieving COVID-19 has thrust us into.  People are being forced to go through some sort of hell, facing death, illness, isolation, and loss of income en masse, seemingly out of no where. It’s affected everyone with varying severity. But, there is no doubt, it’s taken a toll on us all.

When future plans are drastically altered we experience grief over what could have been. What should have been. What was supposed to have been. If it feels like you’ve lost a bit of yourself it’s because you have. We’ve all lost some form of future possibility. Enduring this loss while also collectively facing massive economic and health uncertainty is quite the load to bear. Two of our core needs are all of sudden in question. Forgive yourself if you feel ill-prepared.

We all had expectations for how this spring was going to go. Not many of them will come true. There’s real loss involved with that. Then, of course, there is the actual loss of life and dealing with the illness. Sprinkle in the abrupt loss of livelihood for so many. Add in the lack of connection and social support we’ve lost through precautionary distancing. And we have ourselves a grim concoction of emotional mess. This is not some small inconvenience for us to shrug off. This is as serious as it gets. But we start dealing with it by naming it. Once we name it, we can work with it. Grief. Fear. Insecurity.

Now you might be thinking that you shouldn’t have been attached to those plans in the first place, or that those things weren’t real yet so what’s the point in grieving over them. Been there, done all of that. This is not a time to blame yourself for how you feel. Grief has no timetable. Hate to break it to ya, but it doesn’t ever fully go away. You adapt to it. You learn to make room for it. But that doesn’t happen overnight. So please be patient.

Don’t listen to what anyone else thinks you should be feeling. This isn’t about trying to solve the systemic issues we face. This isn’t about your stuff being “big” or “small” enough to focus on. This is about getting grounded here and now, while addressing your individual needs on the spot. If that means distracting yourself, good, fine. Don’t bite off more than you can chew. If it’s feeling too heavy to address right now, don’t. There’s nothing wrong with that. But it does need to get addressed eventually when you’re in a better frame of mind.

Acceptance is the antidote for grief. One of the ways an antidote works is by absorbing the poison before it is able to penetrate vital organs. The antidote doesn’t get rid of the poison, it slows down the absorption rate. Antidotes also work by converting the poison into something else. Again, the antidote does not get rid of the poison, it adds something to it that makes it more manageable for the body.

Grief is not poison, but the mechanism remains the same. Acceptance slows down our buy-in rate of grief-laden thoughts. The goal is not to get rid of the grief. The goal is to absorb it, to alter it, to make it lighter, and ultimately, to let it pass through us. Acceptance creates space and time for us to be able to meet grief and balance it with something less doomy. Instead of focusing on making it go away, think of things that are also true right here, right now. Use your senses. What do you see? What are you touching? Bring your attention to your seat. Get back to here.

We’re grieving what we’ve lost, we’re scared for what could happen and we have to figure out real-time practical answers to an ever changing environment. We’re all juggling multiple balls with one hand tied behind our back. It’s taking everything just to hold it together. And there’s nothing more exhausting than trying to keep it together when it’s all falling apart. In that spirit, I’d like to encourage you, if it feels safe, to let it fall apart the next time you’re by yourself. Find a time when there are no professional or personal responsibilities. It’s quite refreshing and totally cool, I promise.

Feeling like we always have to keep it together is a sedative lie we tell ourselves when we’re scared of being fully human. Who are you keeping it together for? Why do you have to keep it together? There is nothing to prove. This is not an opportunity you have to capitalize on. This is a time to be utterly human in the rawest sense.

It’s difficult to give proper weight to this situation because it’s so far reaching. These words feel Davidian in comparison to the Goliathness of this virus. COVID-19 has reminded us all, in a horrific way, that our individual actions do not exist in a vacuum.

For many of us, the most helpful thing we get to do is to not make matters worse. Our efforts Hippocratic, in the sense that first, we should do no harm. Notice I didn’t say “all we can do”, that sounds defeatist. No, we get to do this, thanks to the healthcare workers and other essential professionals propping us up.

We do no harm by following directions and taking this seriously. We do no harm by making ourselves and those around us feel safe and cared for. That’s our responsibility now more than ever. I know things are not okay right now for a lot us. But, please trust that you have the ability to handle it not being okay. It’s time to tap into that capability inside us all. Listen to what you’re already saying. Feel what you feel. Let others feel what they feel. It’s going to be different.  Stay open. Stay here. And try to meet it all with unrelenting compassion.

Listen and Breathe.

**Thank you to all healthcare workers and other professionals on the front lines. You have my sincerest appreciation and support. Love and Blessings**

**If things are too overwhelming and you feel out of control, I urge you to contact a professional therapist or counselor for help. They’re here for us.**