It’s been a rough couple of weeks, the state of the world and the ongoing crisis mode we find ourselves in (yet again) with covid is exhausting and defeating. Moving into yet another year with such fear and anxiety is discouraging to say the least. I think we are all broken down and weary; just when we we begin to get our hopes up for some normalcy the world shows up with a different plan.
This morning I woke up feeling blue, my energy is low, my mind is weary, me heart is down. When I find myself in these situations I often turn to those who I have found comfort in time and time again, the words on a page of the many books strewn about my home. The people I have come to learn from, love and follow throughout this journey of mine. Mari Andrew’s “Am I There Yet” sits on a shelf in sight from my favorite reading chair (where I spend most mornings), and today it called me. I opened it to a chapter called seasons, and as Mari talked about seasons of life and the seasons that bring out different emotions in ourselves, my heart found the slightest bit of hope. I was reminded that this too will pass. This pandemic, this crisis, it is a season of our live, but it is not our whole life.
After nearly two years living in a world consumed by a virus that has stopped our world in its tracks, it’s hard to remember what life was like before this. It’s hard not to feel like this is our whole life. Fear has a way of sucking us up whole, and if there’s one thing this virus has done its instilled fear in all of our hearts. Fear of getting the virus, fear of losing a loved one, fear of missing out, fear of the unknowns. The loss of normalcy, the isolation, the constant state of heightened anxiety; it’s left us full of fear and at a loss. It makes sense that I, and perhaps we, have lost sight of the bigger picture. But I am here to remind you (and me) that this is a season, this is not our whole life.
The season of covid 19 has been one marked by tragedy and grief, loss and fear, anxiety and pain. But we must not forget what this season has taught us as well. As humans we naturally cling to the emotions that instill the biggest response, and let’s not pretend that the depth of grief these past two years has far out-weighted the others we may have experienced. However, this season of covid 19 has left us with something I hope we carry on into the many seasons ahead: the ability to live life more simply with what is truly important in mind. Prior to this pandemic, it was easy to fill our days with anything to keep our minds busy, getting drinks at the bar, working til we couldn’t work anymore and traveling to often get away from ourselves. We took for granted the little things in life, which honestly are the big things. Our health, our loved ones, our one and only precious life. This is what this season has taught us, that life is short, it is precious, and we damn well better take care of it. A simple life can be a happy life, and if we sit in the discomfort long enough we might just break through the silence and find ourselves. We might just meet a version of ourselves we did not know was there while previously surrounded by all the noise. This season has made us slow down and evaluate what is truly important.
My family is something I know longer take for granted, and the moments I get with them I soak up as much as I can. The health of myself and those around me is something I am grateful for daily. The ability to have a roof over my head, food to eat, friends to call; it’s so important and how lucky am I. I don’t have to travel the world to have a good and happy life. This season has taught me that, this season I believe will ultimately make my life more full when eventually we move into the next season to come.
I know this season has been long, and we are weary. But let’s not lose sight that one day a new day will come where just like the trees we will shed the leaves of this season and start to grow new. We will become something new, bright and beautiful like never before. But during this cold winter, where things feel dark, don’t forget to hold onto that light. We’re in this together, for this season and the many to come.