What exactly is blooming? How do we witness it from our confined (but safe) spaces? For some of us this season has brought a long awaited and necessary pause. Yet for others it carries loads of anxiety and fear. Still others seem to be thriving. How do we show up? Is it even fair to press ourselves to care? Or is it acceptable to consider each day an act of survival that starts at sunrise (with gratitude for breath) and ends at sunset (with a sigh) in our sheltered space?
I don’t think it is adequate to measure this moment of time in accomplishments. Most of us are still trying to wrap our heads around this new reality and new routine (or lack thereof). Planning seems beyond silly and goals so very fluttering. What are we working towards other than staying healthy, alive, safe and trying our hardest to find happiness in solitude? Having family around is a blessing wrapped in the loss of exposure to new faces or embraces. Getting to know your thoughts on a level your previous busy life never allowed, and maybe, just maybe, that’s why we preferred to stay so busy. Being alone with my thoughts can be overwhelming. We begged for white space and now that we have it, most of us have no idea how to move in it. Me, I am most people. I strive off routines, checking of tasks on my list, knowing what comes next gives me such a sense of safety. And that has been jerked right out of my hands.
What a humbling awakening for me. Because the truth is- it was never in my hands. That was always an illusion. We have no control. I have no control. Over myself or those around me. I have cried so hard doubled over in heartache. Grief has a new height and depth. I don’t know anyone personally to has passed of COVID but is that even necessary to feel the heartbreak? I cried as people applauded medical teams, videos of birthday parades (because love finds a way to celebrate through the despair) and as I overheard my daughter’s teacher say “I love you” over video class. Teachers miss their students so very much. That is another layer of sadness. We are all grieving. Life isn’t what it used to be, we are all doing our best to reconcile that loss and me, personally, I beat myself up for having the audacity to be sad when I should be grateful that we are all safe and healthy. It’s a cycle and as of late it has been filled with more hard days than easy ones. I drive down streets and feel the lump form in my throat when I see places I used to enjoy and I wonder if they will survive the economic toll this is taking. This whole piece is a downer, I’m sorry. This is a journey-we have to be ok with NOT being ok so that we can do the work to BE ok. Let it out. Surrender your weakness so that we can make the space to rebuild. Our courage, our hope, our happiness on new foundations.
Today I’m not so ok but I know and trust God for the day I feel it. The day will come when I am not faking how I feel. I will stand under the warmth sun, without a mask over my mouth in a new state of gratitude. The day will return when I am able to take my daughter to a park and listen to the sound of people, lots of people, talking and laughing nearby. We will make it to that day. We have to. We have a promise to hold onto.
We may not be able to hold one another in person, but let’s be super intentional about constructing new ways to hold one another up in encouragement. Witnessing one another in all the shades of emotions that we are riding out. Show that love in every possible way (while socially distancing) because it is our survival tool. And, let’s be honest, love is the only currency that will matter in the end. Maybe our acceptance of that is the purpose of this season.
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13:13
Vida Taina Luz 