I tried to stay away from the one year anniversary of our collective sheltering in. I tried not to think about it, to keep the anniversary out of my meditations and classes. I figure no one needs for me to tell them the obvious. I figure most of us know what we were doing a year ago when we were asked to stay home, when “social distancing” went from an unfamiliar to ubiquitous phrase, when home took on a very new meaning.
I’ve found myself pretty down lately. Yes, more down than usual. The first day of spring is right around the corner and so many things just remind me of the whirlwind year we’ve had. There’s been so much senseless death and suffering from obvious and less obvious sources. We’ve lived through a contentious and eventually exuberant Presidential election which brought about a complete 180° shift in governmental messaging. I’ve struggled with not thinking those who think differently than I obtuse. I watched as those I consider to be obtuse and dangerous stormed the Capital in protest of what, I have no idea. There has been so much hate and vitriol and fireworks and when you think it can’t get any worse another angry doofus with a gun who can’t get laid thinks that opening fire on a bunch of strangers will solve all his problems.
And it’s March. Again… Maybe I didn’t try hard enough.
Then I notice the palpable feeling of the air against my hand as it sweeps to the floor after extended time in trikonasana and I’m entranced.
I know that I’ve been lucky. I saw friends and celebrated milestones during the warm months of 2020. I made new friends studying and practicing in our virtual spaces. I continued to teach and share yoga and learn from some of the most gracious individuals. I marveled at my family and our ability to support one another as we struggled. I have a job. My partner has continued to work. My son went to college. Members of my family stricken with COVID are recovering. The fact that there are others for whom the past year has been exponentially more difficult is not lost on me.
I’m still sad though and I’m going to have to be ok with that for a while. A friend who posted on social media that she finds herself crying at the mundane wanted to know if she was alone. I let her know that our collective trauma is profound. Recovery will be hard for everyone as we hopefully round the corner towards a healthier, kinder future.
In the meantime I’ll keep doing what I’m doing.