Some Extra Grace Right Now
As the end of a month-long silent meditation retreat years ago approached, I felt a sense of deep ambivalence. Part of my mind had been desperately looking for escape hatches from the retreat container back into "normal life" all month long.
But as the final bell rang, a bittersweet grief churned in my belly at the acknowledgment that I was being ejected from this sweet cocoon of stillness I'd been wrapped in back out into the "real world."
Yes, being in that unfamiliar, more internal, terrain all month had been challenging, but going back to that old familiar way of being "out there" felt daunting in a whole different way.
This in-between moment in the pandemic resonates in a similar way.
That "Both/And" quality of longing to go back to the way things used to be while simultaneously feeling part of ourselves cling to the new normal we've (albeit maybe resistantly at first) settled into over the course of the past year.
And some intuitive, embodied knowing that who we are and how we see the world has shifted in some foundational ways, but not yet knowing how those changes will manifest in how we show up in our lives.
I experienced a grief-y day recently as vaccine rollout picked up and more and more people in my sphere were receiving shots. Particularly with regards to my two-year-old daughter, who's been here 24-7 with us throughout the past year, and for whom we were now looking into preschool options for the fall.
The grief bubbled up at the intersection of the sweet glimmer of relief to soon be able to stop holding our breath — literally and figuratively — and having to stay so vigilant and tightly closed-in, and tenderness at the acceptance of the reality that this sweet little nest and routine we've been nurturing here would soon be exposed to more (unpredictable) elements of the outside world again.
The intersection of the excitement, joy, and relief of expanding back outward mixed with the longing to linger in the stillness, sweetness, and simplicity awhile longer.
I'm craving some ritualistic moment of pause within which we can find the space to look around — and within — and acknowledge the profundity of what we've all, individually and collectively, just been through. Just made it through. And of course there are so many who didn't make it through this year, or at least not without extreme struggle, and there's the space that wants to be held for all that suffering, too.
A longing for space to be held for all the various forms of loss we've all experienced this year, as well as all the (perhaps unexpected) joys and growth we've experienced.
As Courtney Martin writes in her lovely recent newsletter touching on this same theme:
"As things open up, part of me wants to shout: 'Have some God damn respect! Can you see what’s happened here?'"
Coming out of that meditation retreat, we were paired up for brief conversations on each of the last few days to help us slowly reacclimate to the speaking world. And even though those connections were just a few minutes long with very few words being spoken, I left them with the biggest headaches I'd ever had in my life.
The energy that had quieted and settled deep in the body for the past month rushed upward and out like a wave, and with it, all kinds of socially conditioned personality traits. It felt jarring, this "old self" so easily and unconsciously being layered on top of this deep stillness and the insights of potential new ways of being that had taken root inside that sacred cocoon.
I pause with that reflection in this moment.
How can we compassionately honor our own pace and emotional and energetic needs and limits as we begin to blend "inside" and "outside" in this reentry phase?
And how can we nudge ourselves to stay true to whatever valuable learnings and growth have taken root during the past year even as our "old selves" — our conditioned ways of being in social settings, our old deeply grooved habits of pace of doing, the conditioning of us white-identified people to relax back into our privilege and silence instead of continuing to lean into the uncomfortable but profoundly necessary work of social justice — invariably reemerge as we're given increasing opportunities to reintegrate into the larger world?
I feel in no way called to try to summarize in some black and white bullet list how we can do this. We're all just germinating in this liminal space right now, feeling our way through this hammock we're hanging in between "over" and "next".
But here are some thoughts around priming our reintegration process to be one that honors the tunnel we're emerging through and perhaps buffers a bit against the "headache" of the reentry surge.
This is a perfect moment for our mindfulness and self-compassion practices to support us.
We can notice what's happening within us as objectively and non-judgmentally as possible (mindfulness) and offer ourselves the kind of tenderness and care we need when we realize we need it (self-compassion).
The more we tune into our bodies during this reintegration phase, the more likely we'll be able to stay grounded.
Check in with your body's cues to help gauge when it's time to lean into new social interactions or old busy-ness routines, and when it's time to take it slowly.
Expect some awkwardness and discomfort in the reintegration process.
Our social interaction muscles have atrophied a bit, but they'll come back. This is a wonderful place to really lean into your self-compassion practice to extend yourself some extra grace as your "inner self" and "outer self" start to reintegrate.
Remind yourself that this strange in-between transitional moment will pass.
Keep an eye on the long view and the temporary nature of it all.
Consider coming up with some sort of ritual to mark this shift in seasons for yourself.
Some way to honor all you've made it through this past year.
Write down the growth and insights you'd like to carry forward with you from your experience this past year+.
Despite how it feels like we'll never forget how being through this pandemic felt, as our old ways of being invariably reemerge in various ways, we'll likely need some reminders to anchor into when we go back to some (less than ideal) old habits.
Savor the ways, large and small, that it feels good to be reemerging from your pandemic cocoon into the wider world.
And here are a few articles that have been resonating recently along all these lines, in case they might spark something useful or insightful within you:
And, lastly but maybe most importantly, a wish:
May we extend ourselves and one another some extra grace through this transition phase.
We humans are tender right now. Let's acknowledge and honor that.
Lots of Love,
Melissa
PS — I recently shared some thoughts (and the Audrey story) on self-compassion on The Find Your Awesome Podcast. I hope the episode might offer some useful nuggets and inspiration for your practice.