I’m Still Here

I’ve been stuck in between places of neutrality and acceptance, stress and tension.  Usually writing helps, but I’ve been trying to talk to real people instead and be useful and to just be present.  I do a great job most of the time practicing what I’ve been taught and what I write about, but I am also extremely human in other times and this is one of those times. 

Last Thursday when I went to the grocery store, it finally occurred to me that we are in crisis.

I went for normal items and was immediately struck by the energy hanging in the air, down every aisle, in every empty freezer section and along the lines leading down the store.  I was just there for my normal list, but most others were not.  At that moment it seemed that I was one of the only ones not freaking out, and the idea that I should be crept in.  It crept enough that by the weekend, I was unsure if I should be going out with people or venturing into public.  I’m grateful that Mike is who he is, unphased and steady, and we went out for a normal movie and dinner date night Saturday evening.  Come Sunday, whether it was allergies or the tension of the unknown, I didn’t feel great.  I had gone for a morning run and my chest strap wasn’t on right, so my HR read back super high.  Instead of listening to my body, I’ve become robotically fixed to believe metrics coming from technology and assumed it was accurate.

Enter physical symptoms.  My ears hurt, my throat hurt a bit, and my head hurt.  I was scheduled to meet some friends for a hike which I desperately wanted to do, but the fear and panic of infecting anyone near me was real.  I went anyway, kept my distance, and had a marvelous time.  As an extroverted introvert who recharges alone, I am finding in times of isolation that I need people and contact.  I need physical touch and physical energy.  I need togetherness and connection.  I need energy and feedback.

By Tuesday I was pretty down.  We were told to work from home Sunday, which is fine.  I just figured out how to do that masterfully this winter and am not unwilling to do it again.  However, this winter I was the only limiting factor, not my surroundings.  My leg kept me from driving or meeting people, not a quarantine.  And certainly not the economy.  And given that my business is driven by interacting with people and the economy, it’s different.

Right now, it makes no sense to call people when they’re trying to keep their organization together.  It makes no sense to pressure people or to be pleasantly persistent to get them to give me their information.  It makes no sense to give deadlines or a sense of urgency when many people don’t know how volatile the spiral is going to be, or how long work is going to keep coming in the door.  It makes for an uncertain time, and I am grateful beyond words that I no longer employ myself or that I have to worry about payroll that includes people other than me.  While a certain portion of what I do relies on others showing up and signing a contract, I am also paid enough and have built up enough of a base that I will be OK.  I am also resourceful and so is Mike, and I trust that we weren’t brought together this far to be dropped.  I can only hope that belief spreads.

I am sorry for those in lesser situations.  There are people with legitimate health concerns.  There are people with ailments that are real, and uncontrollable.  My mom is one of them.  There are people without incomes, shutting down their businesses and stripping down their organizations.  There are people with no hope.

My biggest problem continues to be me.  Wednesday was my lowest day, having left the windows and doors open much of the day and sending my allergies into pandora.  By evening I was super achy, and depressed.  The scale continued to rise as my stress continued to build, and luckily for me my body never lies to me.  She carries me wherever we go.  She sends feedback often before I realize I’m holding onto anything.

So, I did what I know to do: I talked about it, I stayed honest about it, and I did my best to go to bed and let it go.  Today I woke up, lost some weight, lost the body aches, and lost the headache.  I lost the sense of urgency and found a newfound respect for everyone regardless of their situation.  I found some solace and compassion and resiliency again.  I found some hope in that none of us are alone.  I video chatted some coworkers and contributed to the daily gratitude chain going amongst our team and I called my mom with Alexa so I could at least see her beautiful face on camera.

And I let it go again.  I got outside for hours and met some friends for hiking, maintaining our distance.  I trust God, and I trust this plan.  I have no idea where it’s winding us, but I know it’s winding.  And I always fare better when I just wind with it – not against it.

And my body agrees.