Calm before the storm.
I feel it too.
It’s not even so much that I fear contracting the virus.
Which I am also afraid of, let’s not get carried away.
It’s that as an empath, I’m finding these times to be highly stimulating.
An almost constant state of emotional overload.
Overloaded with the unknowns.
Overloaded with the loses and heartbreak that very well might come.
If not my own loses, then the ones you very well might feel.
The loses I’ll feel alongside you.
Because empathy is my super power.
But It’s also my kryptonite.
The world feels heavy.
My heart feels heavy.
And I am not quite sure when it will stop feeling that way.
There’s part of me that is brave. Calm. Steady. Accepting.
There’s parts of me that hopes the pain is everyone else’s to feel, and I hate that part of my truth a little bit.
There’s parts of me in awe of humanity right now, struck by the sheer beautiful nature of humans.
There’s also parts of me that are angry and blaming and afraid.
And there’s parts of me that are still in denial, and to be honest, I’d rather hang out there.
And that’s a lot to feel all at once.
I remind myself that I am human. Complex and feeling. And it’s okay to feel all these ways.
Self induced patterns of blaming myself for doing so won’t help the feelings go away.
Because it’s human. And this is big stuff. It’s okay to feel the feelings.
You are normal. Hard parts of life, those are normal. Whatever you are doing in response to harrowing stress – also probably pretty normal.
This situation. That’s what is outside of the scope of normal.
I think back to mere weeks ago, sitting in a cafe, talking to a Polish man about the world.
He talked about how mountains make him weep.
They make me weep too.
So beautifully fleeting are the moments.
But the weeping I’m doing, it’s a different sort of mountain today.
It’s the type you know you have to climb when you feel you have none of the proper tools.
Not enough strength.
Not enough stamina.
Not enough readiness to take on the chronic state of uncertainty we are all sustaining.
And we aren’t meant to be chronically uncertain.
In your uncertainty I hope that you remember, it’s okay.
You don’t have to constantly be positive about the situation, or downright depressed.
You can be both.
You can be neither.
You can move interchangeably between the stages of grieving. Back and forth.
But at the end of the day, when you look in the mirror, and you see the affects of stress set in I hope you remember that you are strong.
I hope you remember good news is still news.
And I hope you remember you are allowed to set boundaries even when you are social distancing. You can set boundaries with people. With news. With social media. With anything that steals your peace.
I hope you remember you are allowed to be peaceful.
I hope you remember that as fleeting is the joy, so is the pain, but both are equally as beautiful. This too shall pass.
I hope you remember to just take it day by day.
I hope you remember that no amount of worry adds a moment to your life. But it does steal hope and joy if you let it.
I hope you remember social distancing doesn’t mean emotional distancing. You are not alone in this. Ever.
I hope you remember to just be in the moment, even if the moment is hard. Recognize your feelings. Honor them. Breathe through them.
I hope you remember that there are people working countless hours on your behalf.
I hope you remember you matter. That your choices and your health matter. That self care matters.
I hope you remember to stand up for yourself.
And to keep sitting for others. Even when it’s hard.
To be kind to yourself and take care of yourself.
But also to be kind to your neighbor and take care of your neighbor.
We belong to each other, now more than ever.
If we had nothing in common before, the thing we now share is the unknown we face together to the best of our abilities, and that’s a really powerful thing.
I hope you remember ‘hope’ doesn’t mean you have to be fearless. It means you choose to remember your love is greater than your fear of any shit existence can hand us.
I hope you remember that mortality is one of the loveliest qualities a human has, for it makes each day sweeter and more precious.
I hope you remember to laugh and make love and be silly and make out with your partner.
I hope you remember that even when the world has lost its composure, there is still a God intervening on your behalf.
The storm you see coming…
I see it too.
Take a deep breathe. Be here.
Maybe we will be so efficient in social distancing, an active form of love and altruism, the storm will pass without notice.
But if it does not…
We have weathered storms before.
And we will do it again.
This too shall pass.
You are lovely, and more importantly, you are so, so loved.
Xo (Except no hugs or kisses because of social distancing),
Friendly reminder – If you are doing anything beside being in your house right now, you are making the wrong decision. We are not immune to the laws of nature, and our survival depends on our actions.