I was reminded of this today, this mantra born in the dead of winter, around the turn of the new year. That was six months ago in the Before Time — before Australia burned, before a pandemic, before unemployment, before isolation, before uprisings.
Everyone I’ve interacted with today — maybe even in the last week or more — has articulated or otherwise expressed the overwhelm of the moment. I feel this way, too. It feels hard to put into words. I oscillate between being on the verge of tears and sighing and letting out loud “arghhhh!!”s. It feels hard to concentrate on anything, let alone do anything.
And yet. Against all odds, here we are. In spite of ourselves and all the ways in which we’ve collectively and individually fucked up. With all our frustration and rage and grief and longing. In spite of the amount of trauma that we’re going through; though certainly it varies and is not evenly distributed or experienced in the same ways amongst us all, any of this is enough to break a person. It’s a wonder that we’re not all losing our shit.
Wouldn’t it be easier if there was a playbook? We’re realizing that all the rules that got us here aren’t working for pretty much anybody. We’re in this weird unknown place where we’re having to reorient and navigate unknown territory — territory that seems to be getting rougher by the week. There’s very little to hold onto.
For me, this is where spiritual practice comes in. We’re being shown more and more how little we know about the future and how, if things keep going the way they’re going, we’re gonna need to be able to sit with the unknown even more than we are now. It might even be the only way we can survive.
I don’t really have any answers. Just noticing the resilience, the ability to hold more than we ever thought possible, even if we can’t feel it right now. Also, just hoping that you all are breathing and drinking water and looking out for each other in whatever ways we can right now.