Check In & Reflection
And then it was May.
How are you making out? I've been thinking of everyone often in these last weeks. It's been a strange experience to be home and disconnected from the routine of meaningful contact with my clientele. As you know, our sessions are usually more than just hammering away at knotted tissue. They are also an opportunity to connect and share, knowing that our feelings, experiences and lifestyle are inescapably intertwined with our physical well-being. After 15 years of practice, I'm feeling a bit lost. I miss meeting new people and learning their stories. More so, I miss revisiting with regular faces and hearing updates. I really miss sharing in the wins; hearing of accomplishments, improvements and wellness goals reached. I even miss the failures, because it means that work is being done, which is so inspiring.
While we are all having different experiences right now, we are also sharing a collective one. Like me, some of you may be on pause from your job, navigating the stress that can bring while also curiously exploring the new space which has opened up in the absence of a committed schedule. Many of you may still be working and dealing with the associated pressure from either learning how to work from home or managing the concerns of showing up to an environment under uncomfortable restrictions. If you are a part of this essential service group keeping us safe and our needs met, I bow to you.
Regardless of your current societal role, you are likely touched by the emotions of the collective. Stress of illness and death resulting from COVID19, fear and outrage from the recent mass shootings and now the processing of our missing military members. In a community the size of ours, we are all interwoven by massive loss and the grief is dense. Loss of our people, our sense of safety and the freedom we once felt in the comfort of our "normal" is unavoidable right now.
It's a powerful time. And often my thoughts are with you. How are you making out through all of this? How are you? Really. I ask you to reflect on this question. I invite you to turn off the news, unplug from social media, take time to honestly check in with yourself and nurture your needs with patience, grace and kindness. Perhaps share this with a loved one or you are more than welcome to check in with me if you would like to share. I have had the pleasure of connecting with some of you already. However, if you're feeling insular like me, you may not be keen to use your devices to communicate. I can understand. It's taken me almost two weeks to write this!
In the spirit of connection, however, I'll share that I'm doing great, all things considered. Jenny and my daughter Marley have been home from work and school so I've had the good fortune of wonderful company. We built our very first fence, (pictured above) and have been busy getting the van ready with optimism for a new season of camping. I've been taking entire days to cook and bake...when I can find flour & yeast! I've learned that I'm not very good at skills many grandmothers before me would have had. Things like making sourdough and crocheting are lost art forms, I fear. I've been reading and meditating and deeply connecting to my yoga practice. After returning to the Mount for the first time in 20 years, I completed a semester; an accomplishment made a little more challenging with the shift to learning from home. My folks, who are thankfully well and close by, just adopted a puppy; proof for our family that the world can still be precious and beautiful.
Amidst it all, I have had moments of tremendous sadness and surprising anger. But they have been swiftly overcome by gratitude. Life right now is slow and sweet and simple. And I honestly don't know how I will manage when we shift back to an outward pace. But I am very much looking froward to sharing physical space together again and having these chats in person. I know we will all be transformed somehow and I can't wait to connect in the newness. Until then, please enjoy this picture of 7-week-old Gracie and find happiness in her reminder of new beginnings.
Best,
Alicia