The first three weeks of being home-bound felt embarrassingly nice. As an introvert with a home-based business that has something of value to offer during the covid-19 situation, my work felt (feels) more meaningful and fulfilling than ever. Cognizant of my privilege (my husband still has his job, our kids and parents are safe, we have a roof over our heads and plenty of food), my biggest challenge was overcoming guilt about how comfortable I felt.
This week things got harder emotionally. On Monday I felt a sense of malaise seep in. Maybe it was when I started sewing masks for my family that it all got a little more real.
When the new CDC recommendation to wear face masks came out, I dove into researching what type of material did a better job trapping the virus, shuffling through fabric scraps and old flannel sheets, pulling additional filter materials from closets and basement storage areas. My heart leapt when I found pipe cleaners in a buried craft box to slip into the nose pinch pocket of the pattern my friend had forwarded. The real treasure was the stash of elastic left over from distant Halloween costume projects.
I set up my sewing machine in the dining room, with the bay window framing our beloved cherry tree in full bloom. “It’s almost like being outside,” I told myself. Though it was a picture perfect day weather-wise, I was on a mission to finish masks for myself, my husband, my sons, and my mother in lockdown at her retirement community.
The cherry blossom-laden branches swayed behind me as I worked, practically tapping me on the shoulder asking for my attention. At the start of my project I tried to pretend I was outside doing the work — the profusion of pink was just a few feet away, after all. But I realized at the end of the day that the heaviness I felt was partly due to regret that I hadn’t taken a break to step outside to actually feel the miracle of spring on my skin.
The Ah Ha Moment(s)
There’s a lot we can’t control right now. It’s easy to feel helpless, discouraged, and fearful. All of those emotions are perfectly OK, normal, and expected.
My big ah ha moment came this morning while listening to a talk by Elizabeth Gilbert about “Facing Fear with Compassion” on insighttimer.com. When Liz feels frightened, she sits down and writes herself a letter from Unconditional Love to her fear. Each time she does this, the letter boils down to these phrases:
“I love you.”
“I see you.”
“I know you.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’ve got you.”
I realized that these are exactly the messages that I started receiving through my garden so many years ago, the messages I hear from nature more broadly when I take the time to listen. These are the reassurances somehow whispered both to my heart and from my heart when I get myself outside, turn my face toward the sun, sense into the feel of the breeze, and intentionally look for nature’s signs of renewal, wonder, and hope.
Another ah ha moment: I was originally scheduled to be completing my week-long silent meditation retreat in Massachusetts today. It turns out the lessons were just as rich right here at home.
P.S. If you’ve been following awhile, you might remember that I had a magical encounter with Liz Gilbert a few years back. I wrote about it here.
