This pandemic living is a quiet life. These days I get excited about my sleep quality.   I am ok with quiet.  I like solitude.  But I also rather enjoy having the option to go places.  We all do.  I know.  These past weeks have been particularly difficult.  I got my hopes up that we would enter Phase III of reopening our state and I would be able to open the yoga studio.  I don’t even know that people will come or that I want to be in there, but I did get excited about the option. I rearranged my pricing, updated my software, sent out the blast email and waited for the announcement that didn’t happen.   I created an expectation that wasn’t in line with reality.  It was my own fault that I was disappointed.  I know better.  “Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.”   I just forgot.

Then there was that hurricane.   My home is fine and we came through unscathed, but my island is not fine.  My friends weren’t all so lucky.  It hurts my heart to see so much loss.  Nobody was injured and things can be replaced.  We all know this.  But when it’s your stuff, it still hurts.  Watching people I love struggle hurts.  I forget that I am incredibly sensitive.  I am an expert at putting up a wall to protect myself.  It’s necessary and it works.  It has always worked.  But some things are just too big and too sad and you have to experience them to move through them.  These past two weeks I have been experiencing my emotions in a big way.

Last week a woman I loved very much passed away.  A woman I watched struggle.  A woman I watched rise.  A woman I watched fall.  I rooted for her.  I root for everyone and hope we all make it.  We don’t all make it.  And it hurts.  This week I ugly cried.  I don’t cry often, because when I do, all the grief in my heart comes out and I feel like I will never stop.  And it scares me.  I cried for everyone I have loved and lost.  Crocodile tears, chest heaving, loud sobbing, couldn’t breathe, pain in my heart crying. And then it stopped.  And I was ok.  But damn.

Then there’s this overwhelming feeling of homesickness that keeps coming back.  I shared about it on my FB page and it helped to know others are feeling it too.  It helped to identify where it’s coming from.  But, it didn’t just go away.  It’s not there constantly, but it’s still there.  Some days it’s strong.  Some days it’s just background noise.  But because I know how to live in the solution and not stay in the problem, I use my tools.  All the fucking tools.  I stick close to the people that feel like sunshine to my soul.  I tell the world I am sad and get blasted with love from hundreds of people.  Thank you people.  I needed that.   I’m not homesick for a home that I came from.  I have never been more at home than right here on this island.  This is where I am rooted.  This is home to my children. My community is here.  I stopped trying to escape myself here.  This is my home.  And these feelings are just another layer to all of THIS.  I am just missing the way of life that isn’t reality.   These are just more feelings that I get to experience. We’re all experiencing loss in one way or another.  My heart hurts for my friends who can’t see their children and at the same time, I realize that mine are never leaving this house again.  My days of morning baths, and pizza in bed while my children are at school are OVER.  First world problems. I know how incredibly lucky I am that my children are old enough to navigate this new school year at home.  They are self sufficient and motivated.  We have a peaceful home and everything they need to be successful.  My heart breaks  every day because I know that’s not the case for so many of our children.   The tug of war between gratitude and grief.   There is so much both/and going on in my world right now.  It’s a lot.   For all of us.  In our own way.   It hurts and it’s beautiful at the same time.  I never for one second doubt that this is all necessary.  The whole “great change is preceded by chaos.”  No conspiracies.  Just the understanding that this is what evolution looks like.  This is what it feels like.   Growth is always painful.   We are ALL living outside of our comfort zones at the same time.  It would sure be helpful if we could all be gentle with one another and with ourselves.