Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Just be here now.

Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Just be here now.

Looking up at the sky above our house while playing with the kids… one wing. I just had to mirror image it!

Looking up at the sky above our house while playing with the kids… one wing. I just had to mirror image it!

Everything has changed
It’s just over a month since I last wrote a blog post. In that short time the world as we know it has changed. We find ourselves dealing with something that most of us have never experienced the likes of in our lifetime. A global pandemic. The closest thing I’ve come to experiencing something of this magnitude was living in Japan during the earthquake, tsunami and nuclear meltdown of 2011.

Perspective
And while there is no doubt that what is happening is having a huge impact both in terms of human life and how our social and economic constructs are organised - I’ve also had to remind myself that things of this scale happen all the time - but they largely go unnoticed because it’s happening in developing countries. Not to undermine the significance of this pandemic in any way however, I had to read up to learn that each year diarrhoea kills over 1 million people, malnutrition kills over 3 million children and air pollution kills 8 million people. It is easy not to think about these things as we don’t see them covered this intensely in the mainstream press.

Getting sucked in
That said, over the last few weeks I’ve felt complete overwhelm as I found myself getting sucked into the infodemic as well as the pandemic. I downloaded news apps to keep up to date. I watched the news daily having not watched it for months. I sought out information from mainstream sources and otherwise. And if that wasn’t enough social media hooked me in.

The feelings are real
It was anxiety inducing. I went into fear. That gut churning, heart pumping fear. There were times when I found myself shaking. And I sat through it and saw it to the other side; to trust. I told myself a hundred stories until I’d exhausted myself and let them go. I felt grief. That grief that hits you five seconds after you wake up and then you remember and your heart sinks. Heartbreak for those directly affected. For families who can’t mourn the loss of their loved ones. For the elderly, the vulnerable, those already suffering from anxiety and loneliness. For people who’s work has dried up or business has collapsed over night. For people who were already on the bread line. Reliant on food banks - now wondering how to feed themselves.

Navigating the internal storm with small simple practices
I searched my bag of tools for practices that could help me through these feelings and get me out of my negative thought spiral. They had to be short, simple and powerful practices because a 4 and a 5 year old, an elderly mum with chronic anxiety and a husband busting a gut to keep his business afloat all needed me. So I worked with a bunch of micro practices that took no more than 5 minutes to help me to stay steady and strong. Sometimes I did them several times a day. Sometimes they were as micro as placing my hands on my heart, letting me feel what I was feeling and whispering comforting words to myself.

Awe, gratitude and love
And there were all sorts of other feelings apart from fear, anxiety, and grief. Total awe at mother nature and how she is, in my mind, rebalancing things. The deepest of gratitude for everything from the birds singing in a spring morning, the sun shining, and venus glowing brightly in the night sky, to being able to breath air into my lungs and having time with my family. To be able to hold my children tight and smell their skin.

Falling into silence
The silence. Oh my the silence. Like the earth is exhaling. My four year old was the first to notice it. ‘Mummy it is so, so quiet now’. It was a Tuesday afternoon. A profound quietness enveloped us. It was more than no planes in the sky and traffic on the nearby road. Everything was in some deep, deep, way slowing down. It swept over me like some kind of relief.

Letting go and leaning in
As a parent who is now wrapping my head around home schooling, I’m not completely ‘slowing down’, but certainly living differently. I have noticed how lockdown is forcing me to give in and give up in so many ways. All illusion of being in control is shattered now. And I’m surprised at myself for how easy it can be to just be when you allow yourself to fall into the arms of trust. I confess I’ve spent most my life in some way desperate to be able to prove my value, to provide, to be ‘productive’ according to a paradigm of success that never really fitted me. But now that paradigm doesn’t fit anyone anymore does it? I let it go without guilt. I’m finding myself giving up ideas I had in my head about what I ‘should’ be doing while simultaneously resisting what I was doing. Now I’m doing what needs to be done. Cooking meals, keeping the family safe. Getting the children out and about in the garden. There’s something that feels very clean about that.

We are all connected
Finally, despite the physical distancing practices in place, I feel more connected - in a very real and heartfelt way - to my family, friends, community and humanity. I feel them all in my heart like never before. I love them like never before. While what is happening through this pandemic is impacting us on an individual level - it is a very palpable reminder of how interconnected we are.

We have become so disconnected to the things that truly matter - this feels like a harsh but perhaps necessary way to remind us what is important and meaningful in our lives.

Live as if your life depended on it

And so, as I say when I take people into the deep relaxation at the end of a dance: ‘nowhere to go, nothing to do, just be here now’. I find myself being here now more than ever before. May all your moments be precious to you. May you be well. May you be happy. May you be free from suffering.