It's ok.
It's ok to be overwhelmed. To want to shut off all the noise and hide for a while. To not turn on the news. To not want to know about the terrible things happening in other countries or the impending doom that seems to be surmounting as the numbers rise.
I drove through the starbucks drive through last week. I went shopping to two different stores yesterday with a friend. These brief moments were a breath of fresh air surrounded in a myriad of voices in my head telling me a million things. Watch my distance. That person is standing too close. Use a glove to pick that up. Turn your face away if that person walks too close in case they breath on you. Ignore the urge to scratch your face. Don't stare at the person who just coughed. Don't judge the person whose cart is filled with canned goods. Wash your hands. Sanitize everything.
Don't feel guilty for going out.
Don't feel guilty for staying home.
We are grieving.
Maybe some of us hide well under our productive hats. Maybe we don't feel we have lost much. Maybe we have. Maybe we haven't. I wish my previous day to day life held the simplicity my current one has. This slowing down is what I crave. I don't want a rat race. I don't crave ambition or power or climbing the ropes or making a ton of money. And if you want those things, that's good because the world needs people who want those things. Those people get shit done. So I grieve in part because I have lost stability and certainty. I also grieve because this slowing down has resonated so much that I prefer not to lose this either. But given my future chosen profession, this loss seems inevitable.
Perhaps then, what we decide instead is to learn in these weeks to enjoy the moments of uncertainty, bask in the lack of having to be somewhere and get a million things done. Refocus on loving ourselves and those closest to us. Maybe dive into the depths of those around us instead of glancing over what we think we already know.
Let's explore while we have the time.
I drove through the starbucks drive through last week. I went shopping to two different stores yesterday with a friend. These brief moments were a breath of fresh air surrounded in a myriad of voices in my head telling me a million things. Watch my distance. That person is standing too close. Use a glove to pick that up. Turn your face away if that person walks too close in case they breath on you. Ignore the urge to scratch your face. Don't stare at the person who just coughed. Don't judge the person whose cart is filled with canned goods. Wash your hands. Sanitize everything.
Don't feel guilty for going out.
Don't feel guilty for staying home.
We are grieving.
Maybe some of us hide well under our productive hats. Maybe we don't feel we have lost much. Maybe we have. Maybe we haven't. I wish my previous day to day life held the simplicity my current one has. This slowing down is what I crave. I don't want a rat race. I don't crave ambition or power or climbing the ropes or making a ton of money. And if you want those things, that's good because the world needs people who want those things. Those people get shit done. So I grieve in part because I have lost stability and certainty. I also grieve because this slowing down has resonated so much that I prefer not to lose this either. But given my future chosen profession, this loss seems inevitable.
Perhaps then, what we decide instead is to learn in these weeks to enjoy the moments of uncertainty, bask in the lack of having to be somewhere and get a million things done. Refocus on loving ourselves and those closest to us. Maybe dive into the depths of those around us instead of glancing over what we think we already know.
Let's explore while we have the time.
❤️
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