day by day, deep breaths, and no bra

Yesterday, I sat outside on my porch, braless and in a pair of my husband’s boxers, drinking coffee out of a mug that read, “I’d rather be trimming my bush. “ And truth be told, I would. Because on top of watching the gigantic orange truck cart away our dear friends and neighbor’s belongings, the global pandemic is wreaking havoc on our collective psyche.

As I was chatting on the phone with my dear friend, Sally, the pool guy and my neighbor showed up at the same time. One of my daughters was tapping on the window dancing. All of this, while still in my ridiculous morning attire, complete with unbrushed hair and a purple tattoo on my foot that my daughter had given me the night before. The tattoo resembled more of a troublesome rash than artwork. My unkempt exterior felt appropriate though, a perfect match for the craziness that is the world right now. 

While our family of five was eating dinner a few nights ago, I reminded my youngest daughter that her friend next door would be leaving soon. Her lip quivered as she lowered her head onto the table and cried. My husband and my older children and I just looked at one another stunned and with helpless expressions plastered on our faces. Her breakdown also seemed like an apt response to…well…everything.

As a self identified highly sensitive person and one who has struggled with anxiety, I am surprised that COVID-19 has not sent me completely over the edge. There is always tomorrow. But for now we are hanging in there feeling grateful to be home with family and deeply thankful for all of the people working so tirelessly to fight this new virus. 

When everything is up in the air, all that truly matters comes falling down around us like cherry blossom petals on a windy day. It becomes blatantly obvious how much of our concerns are a waste of time. We realize what we need to do to keep putting one foot in front of the other. We tell ourselves this too shall pass and thankfully, it will.

We are all in survival mode right now. I have found when in survival mode in the past that a little structure and a bit of consistency goes a long way. But with three kids at home, everything closed, and no play dates allowed, it is close to impossible to have much structure of any kind.

So I’ll take what I can get. And these days it’s simple. It’s walks, showers, eating well-ish, checking in with loved ones and writing. The simplicity feels like a blessing, a true gift wrapped in the chaos and fear of such uncertain and unfamiliar times.

Another gift I am opening is the one of free time. Being told to stay home and away from other people is not so difficult for me because I am an extroverted introvert; I like my couch. But with no where to be other than right here, we can unwind, unclench our knuckles, and slow way down. Time is irrelevant here.

This situation is like a wet dog nose nudging us. It’s directing us inward. So much of our lives are lived out there, away from home, away from ourselves but now we are being invited to seek adventure, answers, purpose, and meaning right here in our hearts in our homes. This is a challenging invitation but an invitation nonetheless.

And there are so many silver linings: My son is playing piano again. My daughters are playing and laughing together. We are having dinner together every night. My husband is home more. 

But, obviously, it’s not all pretty. Take for instance my above mentioned outfit. There is also more time on electronic devices and more arguing. We are eating a heck of a lot more chocolate and cookies. This morning I woke up wanting cake. I miss my friends, my extended family, working with people, nature. So much of what we were looking forward to has been cancelled.

I am reminded of Viktor Frankl who survived the Holocaust and taught us that if we can’t change a situation than we are challenged to change ourselves. 

And another silver lining? Pictures of cleaner and clearer skies in China due to less production and consumption have many of us thinking that if this is what is happening to the planet, what then might happen to us? How will we feel and what will we look like with time to rest, restore, repair, and breathe?

Now I know the point of social distancing is not to give us time to do nothing, breathe deeply, drink margaritas, (who said anything about margaritas?) and even heal but it is definitely an option. Healing, hoping, growing, and looking on the bright side always are.

We are choosing how to respond to this crisis every minute of every day. We can choose responsibly and favorably or contribute to the collective angst. We can relish the quiet and instill a more peaceful and hopeful space for those on the front lines to operate from and we can potentially save lives simply by staying home. 

I am so thankful for the doctors, nurses and those working their asses off at grocery stores, restaurants, and pharmacies to help keep us healthy, safe and sane. Their sacrifices are not going unnoticed and we will not take them for granted.

I believe we are being asked by the powers that be to use our compassionate, intuitive, kind, and gentle hearts to keep opening up and showing up. To take care of ourselves, our families, and the most vulnerable among us, by bringing more peace and calm. It doesn’t seem like too much to ask. We need not succumb to dread and despair. We must try to keep shining our bright lights so the people fighting this fight on the outside can find their way home too. And if we can do our part while sitting on our front porches braless, well then all the better.