Tag: Covid 19

Sadness is my least favorite emotion.

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Never did I ever for one minute think we would roll into a new year and everything would magically be better. In fact, I have been saying for months that I fully expected and was prepared for a “dark winter.” I just didn’t know exactly what that meant and I didn’t expect it to affect me. A couple of weeks ago it started to rain. I love a rainy day. I sat on my bed with all of my books, my journals and the Netflix remote. I was in heaven and I was sure that I would be the type of person who could live in bliss in Seattle. But, by day 3 of the rain, I was over it. And it hasn’t really stopped raining yet. Not for any length of time. I’m still over it, but it’s still raining. I’ve been feeling sad for a few weeks now. In waves. Not a steady sadness. I think it’s grief. My grief. Collective grief. Covid grief finally catching up to my. My super power is building community. Covid has made that very challenging for me. And I miss it. Circles. Group events. Bringing people together. On February 1st, my community lost one of our Goddesses. The thing to know about this is that when we sit in circle together, there is an immediate bond. There’s an intimacy that happens in Circle unlike any other I have experienced. Women grow close in these circles. When I first started leading circles, I noticed how this happened. How when the circles were over and I was cleaning up, all the women would gather in small groups exchanging contact information and making plans for later. It made me feel left out. Lonely. I felt a bit like an outsider. Because I wasn’t a part of this. But I also understood that I didn’t have to be a part of that. I understood that wasn’t my role. I was the space holder. I AM the space holder. I am a connector. I bring people together. Another gift. Every woman who sits in circle with me isn’t my best friend. But, every woman who sits in circle with me is special to me. There’s a love there that I haven’t found anywhere else. It’s the loving and supportive community that I always needed but didn’t exist in my world until I created it. And it is beautiful. When we lost our goddess, it hurt. Funerals in Covid Time are weird. Just like everything else in Covid Time. Her funeral was small. The Pastor had this big, booming presence and was FULL of love. I could feel it radiating from him. There was no way not to be at ease in his presence. Honestly, he felt like Santa Claus. He turned her funeral into a celebration. A joyful celebration of her life. All of her friends who were there were from circle. Every single one of them. It filled my heart to see how she had found her community among us. I sat and noticed the other women who were there. I noticed that all of these women had connected through yoga or circles. Such a beautiful thing to see on such a sad day.

My inner circle is small. I don’t think people realize that. Or maybe they do. I don’t know. I am guarded and private in a sneaky way. I am slow to trust and it’s hard for me to let people in. If you know me, you know. My heart broke a little last month when my favorite friend told me she was moving to California. She has been on the fence about this move for as long as I have known her. This is a good move for her. She’ll be near family. Her soul will be settled here. But it happened so fast. This woman is unstoppable and fierce and capable of anything. Including packing her entire house up, selling it and moving clear across the country in 6 weeks time. She is goals in so many ways. She’s always teaching me without even knowing it. She told me she was busy packing, but until I saw her house a week later, I wasn’t sure I believed it. She leaves in 9 . She’s a “safe space” for me. I don’t have to share her with everyone I know. She’s a friend and not a follower. She doesn’t do social media. She doesn’t care how cool I am on the internet. She knows ALL of my shit and loves me anyway. I am so comfortable being me with her. I will miss that. I will miss her being near.

Sadness is my least favorite emotion. I’m certain it’s the hardest one for everyone. When it hits, I tend to feel dread and think it’s going to be with me forever. But it isn’t. It passes. You might think I would have learned this by now, but when I am in it, I forget. Every single time. You may remember that I “broke up with my phone.” We didn’t actually break up at all. I need my phone in my life. I am working on using it in a mindful way. It’s a process. I have noticed that when I feel sad, which has been a lot these past few weeks, it’s the easiest thing in the world to pick my phone up and distract myself. I was actually fascinated to realize that I was doing this. And it makes me think that I have been doing this for a LONG time. So now I am just paying attention to the why when I pick up my phone. Sometimes I need a distraction. After eleven months of living in a pandemic, we ALL need a little distraction from time to time. I have been using an app called Moment. It keeps track of my screen time and it counts how many times I pick up my phone. My favorite feature is the “gentle reminder” it gives me when I have have had my phone in my hand for 15 minutes. It’s a good reminder for me that there are other ways I want to spend my time. Right now, I find the reminders helpful. I am back to basics. “Chop wood and carry water.” Do the things, feel the feelings and live life. I never forget to be grateful. I have more happy moments than sad moments. “Welcome and entertain them all.” But this rain can fuck right on off.

It’s a Lot.

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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.

Making Plans. And social media. And other random things.

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I am a planner girl.  I love my Dragontree Apothecary Rituals for Living Dreambook Planner. I love the ridiculously long name of it.  I love the color of it.  I love the pages. I love that it’s spiral bound.   I don’t get paid to share that with you, it’s just the best planner out there.  But I should get paid, because half of you are going straight to Google to see what you’ve been missing out on. I know it’s the best because every year I buy multiple planners in search of the BEST one.  I get planner envy when I see a friend with a cool new planner and I have to purchase the same one.  Just in case it’s better than the one I have.  And the good planners aren’t cheap.  I have bought them all.  The Passion Planner, Erin Condren LifePlanner, Law of Attraction, The Desire Map.  The list goes on.  I even bought one strictly because one of the reviews claimed it was the best planner for a “grown ass woman.’  Obviously I had to have it. Because I’m a grown ass woman.  I also have an old school desk calendar.  One of those huge office calendars that lays flat on my desk and covers the entire surface. I also have a small, fits in the purse that I don’t carry type planner. The Dragontree Planner is by far my favorite.  I like to know my schedule.  Shit.  I like to HAVE a schedule.   I have not had a schedule since March 15th. I opened my planner last Friday and flipped through three months of blank pages and started again. Now I am writing every mundane thing that takes time in my day and space in my planner.  All the things I normally just do and don’t need to be reminded of. Vacuuming. Laundry. Grocery shopping. These are not planner worthy things. But it gives the illusion of a full and productive day.   And there really are no pandemic planner rules.
I flipped my desk calendar right past April and May which were never touched. But what’s the point in actually using that one.  It’s my work calendar for planning events and workshops in the studio.  Sure there have been things that I’ve had to do since March.  Places I had to be.  But no real schedule.   That’s completely my own fault since there are routine things I could be doing to keep some sort of schedule, I just haven’t. I’ve let go of Zoom yoga with my teacher, although I miss him and my shala peeps terribly and think about joining every week.  But it’s hard to get into yoga TV and there is usually something that stops me.  Driving my oldest son to work.  Sleeping.  Nothing. Something.  My son has his license now, so that’s not an excuse anymore.  But there are other things that creep up and take precedence. Mostly, I just can’t get my heart into it.  But I will.  It will come back. 
Last week I went to an AA meeting.  The first meeting I have been to in months.  It was outside. And it was lovely.  I forgot that those coffee drinking old men need me.  And the women too, although you never hear me mention them.  I forgot that I have a lot of joy and wisdom to share and it’s much needed in that world.  I forgot that I love A.A. Something else I completely forgot that might surprise you. It surprised me anyway.  I love teaching yoga. When the world shut down, I was completely fine taking a break from teaching.  I considered Zoom, but it is 100% not for me.  So I didn’t. But when I taught that first beach class last month, it was pure joy.  Not that beach yoga is ideal, not for me, but I am grateful to have the beautiful open space.  I am grateful to connect with people in that way.  It feeds my soul. And I am grateful to once again have things to plan.  Things to write in my planner.
Since March, I have felt extremely stuck.  Stagnant.  My “one word” for 2020 is expansion.  How fucking hilarious is that?  This year has felt anything but expansive.  It has felt constrictive and stuck and stagnant.  I have yet to figure out exactly how I am expanding although if you asked me I would give you an answer.  I would tell you all the ways my heart has expanded.  I’m not really sure though. But I have faith and more will be revealed and all of that. I do believe it’s there though.  I just can’t see it yet.
I stopped setting intentions.  The new moons.  The new weeks.  The new months.  They have all zipped past me without the feeling that I needed or wanted to plan, plot or intend for any kind of forward motion in my life.  I’ve read more fiction in these last few months than I have read in years.  I forgot that I love fiction.  I’ve started to work my way through the 25 Marvel movies in order.  I think my husband tricked me into that one. I let him. The superheroes are smoking hot. I’ve been content chilling at home.  I love my home.   But magically, with the last new moon/eclipse/summer solstice energy, I seem to have gotten my mojo back.  Remember, I love it when things magically happen for me.  It’s my favorite.   Forward motion friends.

My fire to write has been reignited.  Not that Covid extinguished it.  I stopped writing nearly as soon as I started back in January.  Mostly because I didn’t think I had anything to say.  But I do.  Maybe nobody wants to read what I have to say, but that’s not the point.   I am writing again and it feels great.  At least for the past week. Nine days if we are being technical. Now to stick with it for just  83 more days until it becomes a habit.  No problem, right?  I wish y’all could hear me laughing.  Laughing because it actually is a problem to make myself get up at the same time every day and do anything these days.  I talk a big game of self discipline is the highest form of self love for someone who is lacking in the self discipline area.  But self acceptance is up there at the top too and I accept the fact that my priorities have shifted.  

We are all learning to navigate in this new world.  It’s not my favorite.  I doubt that it’s anyone’s favorite.   I miss sitting in circle with my soul sisters in the studio.  I miss hugs.  I miss having lunch with my friends.  I miss practicing in the shala.  I miss grocery shopping like a normal person.  I miss thrift stores. That’s pretty much it.  The list isn’t long. I don’t require a lot. My husband would disagree. I like being at home.  I like my family.   Something else I miss is the way people used to be nice to one another on social media.  Those were fun times.  I have such a love hate relationship with social media. Facebook in particular.  Social media has  been  a powerful and positive force in my life.  It’s connected me to so many amazing people. It’s helped my recovery,  it’s helped me build a business, it lets me see what my family who are all far away are up to.   But my God.  People suck right now.  Or maybe they’ve always sucked and I haven’t noticed.  My scroll game is strong and I am usually able to scroll right on past the bullshit, but there’s so much of it these days.   I am mindful of my feed and have carefully cultivated it to be a positive and inspiring place for me, but the ugliness has crept in.  And the people who only acknowledge my existence when they want to make a snarky ass comment.  I can do without all of that.  Life is too short to spend it aggravated with  people who live behind a screen.   Perhaps this is what’s going to finally cure my addiction.  But I doubt it.  Because as much as I would love to completely disconnect, I cannot.   My business needs social media presence.  So  I unfollow.  Constantly.  And clearly I need to do more of it. Not today though. Today my schedule is FULL and I have a life to live in the real world.  After the nap I have scheduled in my planner.

Smooth Sailing. Until it’s not.

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And then it happened!  I made a Covid 19 memory bigger than toilet paper!  And there was dancing!  And my heart was full!   Yesterday I hosted a social distanced parking lot dance party.  Most of you saw the pics on my FB page.  I am sure there are people who didn’t approve, and that’s ok.  I wasn’t looking for approval.  I was looking for connection.  Friday was a hard day.  Some days are.  I’ve had plenty of down days lately.  I know we all have. Friday was my worst.  I woke up that morning and went downstairs to my fortress of solitude.  I sat on my cushion to meditate, but instead I cried.   I cried a lot.  A thing to know about me is that I am not a crier.  But I couldn’t help it and I couldn’t stop it.  I’m sure it was necessary and I get that crying is good.  I love when my students cry in yoga, and I love when the women in my circles cry.  I’m just not the one to do it.    I was THIS close to jumping on the blog and writing through it, but that seemed like a stupid option.  So instead, I stayed stuck in it.  And I cried.  I haven’t cried like that since September 9th 2018.  I can’t remember why I cried, but I remember that it started at home and continued during the yoga class I went to that morning.  I was hosting a teacher from Florida in the studio and I was in her class, bawling my eyes out the entire time.  Pretty impressive that I have a timeline, right?

This is where I stop to tell on myself.   Because I live my life on social media and share so much from my heart, I was guessing there must be something posted that day to give me a clue as to what that was all about. I had to make the connection back to the date that teacher was here.  A quick search pointed out the date and down the rabbit hole of my activities log for September 2018 and BOOM.  Here it is.  Of course I was crying.  Also,  I was probably due for another good cry on Friday.  2018 was a LONG time ago.  I should cry more.  You know, if I was down to play that “should” game.  I did have a big crying episode on January 1st during sunrise meditation on the beach.  I bawled my eyes out and even pointed it out to my friend who also doesn’t cry.  I was proud of it and wanted to share it with her.  But, that was all gratitude and full heart stuff.  Quite different.  But sooooooo good.  For the record, I am down to cry gratitude tears any time.

The unhappy cry is the crying I have an aversion to.  Back to Friday where I cried for the first time in a L O N G time.  I think every emotion I have experienced over the past 6 weeks caught up to me.  It was a tough day.  After the tears came the anger.  I’m not exactly sure why I was angry, but I suspect it’s easier for me to be angry than it is for me to be sad or fearful or fully feel all the grief that we are collectively feeling.  And by I suspect, I mean that’s definitely it.  This afternoon I talked with a friend on the phone who spun her woo woo therapist magic on that situation.  She pointed out that my inner “kid” likes to get angry and rebel against…….well, she rebels against all kinds of things, but she definitely doesn’t like to cry.   So she gets angry. I knew that being angry around my family for no “real” reason wasn’t going to be helpful, so I stayed in my fortress of solitude.  My husband came down to check on me.  He NEVER comes into my fortress.  Ever.  He asked if I wanted to walk to the beach with him.  We live 15 streets away from the beach and while it’s totally doable, I didn’t want to do it.  I’m not much of a beach walker anyway.  I’m more of a sitter.  My husband isn’t a beach walker either nor is he the kind of guy that wants to walk 15 streets because it’s good for his health.  Bless him.  He wanted to fix me because all of my emotions made him uncomfortable.  He just wanted me to be ok. Because he loves me.   I eventually got past the anger and settled into a nice, comfortable funk.  I stayed there the rest of the day.  Ice cream and music in the bathtub that evening helped, but more than that, sleeping and waking up to a new day was the real trick.   Saturday was the first time I have seen real people outside of my home, not counting the grocery store, in six weeks.  I know I’m not alone in this and that we are ALL right there.  I know that for me and the women who either showed up to dance in their own (appropriately spaced out) circle, or just sit in their car and watch, it was so uplifting.  Dancing for me is ALL about connecting to that inner child.  That girl needed to let loose and have fun.  Saturday was the soulgasm I needed to carry me through another 14 day week. Who knew quarantine days were gonna be 48 hours long?  I’m really looking forward to the day that quarantine and Covid 19 doesn’t come up in my thoughts, in my blog and in every fucking conversation I have.  Today is not that day. Tomorrow is not going to be that day.  This is where we are.  Doing the best we can. Adapting and overcoming.   I had an amazing 10 am writing group Zoom meeting with fabulous women today.  I’m happy to be writing again. For now. Even if it’s just a bunch of rambling.  It feels good for me to connect in this way.  Last week quite a few new readers found my blog.   The toilet paper blog.  People who have never read my blog somehow stumbled onto that one.  I need you to read that again, slowly,  in my southern accent.  People who have never read my blog somehow stumbled onto that one.   What the hell?   I was almost embarrassed.  Almost, but not quite.  I was dealing with too many other emotions to be bothered with embarrassment.  This week is gonna be smooth sailing.  I can feel it.  Until it’s not.  LOL