Do you ever just forget to breathe?
Obviously we’ve both done a decent job on the breathing front thus far, or it would be tough for you to be reading or me to be writing this sentence right now. But I mean, really breathe — a deep-into-your-belly, release-all-your-tension, wow-I-feel-better kind of breath.
I forget all the time, and right now it seems harder than ever.
Despite the isolation we find ourselves in, the world is inexplicably continuing to revolve around the sun and turn on its axis. It doesn’t seem possible that I began working from home 25 days ago. The world was a completely different place 25 days ago. We’ve lived a lifetime this year, and there are so many days to go. Each day feels like a year and yet the last 25 days have flown by in the blink of an eye.
And just like that, I’ve forgotten to breathe again.
It’s overwhelming, all of it. Even if you find yourself in a relative place of privilege — stuck at home, but employed; isolated with the people and/or creatures you love; with the money to purchase the items you need (even if you’re having trouble finding them). Even if you’re lucky, this is incredibly hard. Though they provide some momentary joy and sense of connection, no number of funny-but-sad internet memes can change the deeply disturbing nature of what we’re all going through. We’ve all lost something — a sense of normalcy and security; outlets for stress relief; access to the places and activities we enjoy; and, for some of us, loved ones.
So it’s no surprise that you may find yourself scrolling through Twitter or Facebook, or even just lying in bed at night with your thoughts, and feel the sense of panic creeping up from your belly into your chest. You may discover it’s hard to take a deep breath. But I encourage you to try.
Today, I was lucky to have the day off from work. It’s fortunate, because I was starting to feel like my body was going to implode under the weight of my stress if I couldn’t find a few moments to myself. So, this morning I woke up, had my coffee and breakfast, and followed a yoga sequence on YouTube. I was determined to have a quiet morning to myself, to slow down and let myself breathe for the first time in the last month.
I rolled out my mat, sat cross-legged in front of the TV, put my hands on my knees — and felt my dog’s nose ramming into my hand for attention.
I paused the video, gave her a few pets, tried to ignore her, and reset myself. Time to start again — and she started barking at something outside.
Again, I pressed pause on the video. I got up, gave her the “quiet” command, and once again sat down cross-legged, facing the TV —
And then the cat was climbing on (and scratching) a bag of dog food in the dining room.
Finally, after many interruptions, these fuzzy creatures with whom I’m spending an incredible amount of time lately found something to occupy them. Finally, some calm.
I went through my 30-minute flow, and when I was done, it was a little unsettling to find the house quiet. No barking, no chatter, no podcast playing in the background. We live on a busy city street, so cars are going by constantly and sometimes there’s a loud car stereo blaring from outside my window, but I found myself feeling like I needed to stay still for just a little longer. So I did.
I listened to the breeze blowing green leaves on trees through the open windows, laid back on my mat, and breathed. Not a shallow breath. Not a panic breath. A deep-into-my-belly, release-all-my-tension, wow-I-feel-better kind of breath. It was cathartic.
There are so many things about what’s happening to us right now that are truly awful. There’s no way to spin them to be positive. I don’t believe everything happens for a reason or that every cloud has a silver lining, but if we’re lucky, we find one every once in a while anyway. For me, it’s that I’ve found small moments to consider what and who really matter to me. How do I want to spend my time? And who do I want to spend it with? Which stressors are worth it, and which are just a waste of energy? I don’t have all the answers, but reflecting is the first step.
So if you’re moderately secure in life’s basic necessities right now and have a few moments to spare (and you probably have more than you think, but that’s a topic for a different day), I encourage you to find a sliver of quiet wherever you are — no matter how loud it is outside, or how loud it is inside your head. Dig out the quiet when and where you can, take a deep breath, and listen.
I can’t tell you what you’ll find, but if you listen hard enough, you might just hear something important coming from within.
Stay well my friends.
becca starkes 