Tuesday, on a trip to the grocery store, I felt strange, uneasy, and fearful. Walking into Woodman's, I saw people with face masks. Everyone kept a 6-foot distance. No one looked at each other. (Though I tried to smile at anyone who'd make eye contact.) There were rationing signs in every aisle. Plastic windows stood between customers and grocery-store staff. Intellectually, I knew all these steps were important and needed (recommended by the CDC), yet emotionally I couldn't reconcile my heart with the surroundings.
At check out, the cashier asked me, “How are you? Did you find what you needed?” I paused, then replied, “I’m well—physically fine—but I feel strange. This whole situation is unsettling.” She nodded knowingly.
Everyone I talk with experiences a breadth of emotions. There’s a sense of “this is a break; a chance to rest, breathe, and savor,” and then a quick jolt back to intense reality. We’re not on a retreat or sabbatical that we’ve chosen. All over the world, people are dying. Each day, I feel deep gratitude along with immense sadness. So much coexists within my emotional landscape.
Still, we are creating our world, especially now. We’re making choices about screen time and information intake; about exercise, nutrition, and sleep (basic self-care); about communication—what nourishes and what depletes; about kindness, compassion, and generosity; about embracing spring—both in nature and in our hearts. Daily, we create our own world. We’ll make mistakes. Our edge will meet the edge of another. But we can begin again in any moment: Pause, forgive, and start fresh. We have choice, which includes practicing self-compassion when messy, complicated emotions arise.
As you create your world, please remember these words from Kelly Rae Roberts: "May you surrender fear, embrace uncertainty, and trust your strength. May you be gentle with your soul (and ask for what you need). May you feel the immeasurable power of how deeply you are loved."
