Tired…

This photograph has always fascinated me. I look into my own eyes and see so much. I am sad. I am overwhelmed, I am tired. My three year old self had no idea what life had in store for her. I was always quick to tear up, my feelings were hurt easily. Now I think of that little girl and think it couldn’t have been so bad. We are each in our own bubble of despair or happiness or anger or frustration or joy or uneasiness and a moment later it can change. So maybe in that moment when the camera clicked it really was that bad. Sometimes I think I can remember what was happening when this picture was taken but more likely it’s just that I remember that little me. So tender, so full of feelings, that frequently overflowed. At that age I wanted to be told what was right and what was wrong. It gave me a sense of security, an ordered world. I followed my mother and my big sister around like a shadow. Whatever they did was right. Lately as ordered as I try to make my life it seems there is no order. 

There are moments when I feel tired, heavy, weighed down. I’m tired of this pandemic and how it has infiltrated every crevice of my life(of all of our lives) and I want it to go away. I’m tired of waking up every morning and knowing it's still here wreaking havoc on our world. Every decision I make is impacted. I realize I should be grateful(and I am.) I am healthy, my children are healthy, we have a home, work, food, each other. I read the news and see so much suffering, so many fearful, overwhelmed, angry people. It’s like I can feel those emotions as I watch the faces, read the stories and then I have to close it up, turn it off because it’s too much. All over the world there is so much, not just the pandemic(and just the pandemic alone is so much.) We are all in our own bubbles right now, experiencing life and even if it might look pretty good to someone else looking in, who really knows what is happening in my bubble or your bubble or anyone else's bubble? 

A few months ago it felt like a cloud was lifting. This life of sheltering, protecting, masking was slowly being shed, like a skin. Hope was in the air. I tried not to get my hopes up, I was cautiously optimistic, grateful as the numbers kept going down in our part of the world. I tried not to read too much news. Yoga studios started opening one by one. Some people came back to yoga in person but many didn’t. Teaching virtually and in person - a whole new challenge. The mask mandate was lifted. I went to Virginia on vacation. The numbers started to go up again. Slowly but surely. Again I tried not to read the news too much. I tried to stay in my bubble of disbelief. Then the mask mandate was reinstated. Masks are everywhere again.

I miss life before. I miss going out without worrying about whether I have a mask. I miss the simplicity of walking out my door and walking my dogs without feeling judged for not wearing a mask. I miss seeing people smile and laugh and those big sighs I like to take while we’re practicing in person. The short month or so that I finally saw people’s faces was wonderful. Smiles were amazing! I miss not being able to sneeze, blow my nose, clear my throat, cough, or even sniffle for fear someone will be afraid they will catch Covid from me. I miss being able to plan a vacation without wondering if it is safe. I miss feeling like I can hug a friend without being worried that they are worried.

We were already divided before the pandemic and for a while it seemed like maybe this would be something that brought people together(while apart, of course.) Lately though it feels like the divide has grown wider and there is more frustration and anger. It feels like you are either on the side of vaccination or you are an anti-vaxxer. Both groups are digging in ever deeper to what they believe is truth and it feels unkind. I don’t want to pick a side and I do not want to tell other people what to do. I have made my own decision and each person in my family has done the same. I have no judgment for someone who has made a different choice. As this pandemic drags on, the frustration is leaving a lot of opportunity to play the blame game. Everyone wants to be ‘right.’ I’m tired of this pandemic and how it’s pulling us apart again. 

I know life is different now and I know there is no ‘going back to normal’ but I can still miss it. The olden days. I’m not a big fan of sci-fi novels. I don’t want to know or imagine what the future will be like. I am nostalgic for life before the pandemic. As flawed as it may have been, it was my normal. As I again put my mask back on to go to the store, the gym, the yoga studio I am going to mourn this step backwards. I am going to be frustrated, I am going to deny, I am going to cry, I am going to put my head in my hands and wonder - when will this be over?

I am going to be tired right now and I am going to miss life as it was. I’m tired of being hopeful. I am going to take great big sighs. I don’t have any answers. The data keeps changing. What was wrong yesterday is right today. Mask on, mask off, mask on. Outside, inside. Safe, unsafe. Everything just keeps shifting and I feel dizzy. I’m just going to sit and watch, keep my judgments to a minimum, be patient with myself and others, make space for different perspectives and beliefs, stay open to change, do my own best and eventually, eventually yes I will be hopeful again.

That little me from so many years ago that was looking for order is still searching for order, moment by moment, trying to be ready for the next change and the next and the next. And yes yoga is continuing to help me find this order. Yoga feels like the easiest part of my day. I get on my mat, breathe, move, turn my attention inward. The biggest decision I make on the mat is about fingers, toes, hips, shoulders. Yes to this, no to that, keep breathing through it all, lay down on my back and rest. The bubble dissolves and for this short time there is unity.

Keep practicing. All is not lost. Take a breath and then the next and then the next.