When your life feels disrupted, how do you keep moving forward?
What we’re going through right now is so uncomfortable, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s also very temporary. It’s like the shock of cold water when you first jump into the pool.
Growing up, my grandma had a pool. Even though she lived in temperate San Diego, it still baffled me that she would swim nearly every day of the year. Her late morning swim was as much a part of her routine as reading the Bible and watering her many potted ferns and flowers. But Grandma Dee hated getting her hair wet. Refused to, actually. And if we’re being honest I’m not too sure she really liked the water either.
Yet every morning she would don a black and white swimsuit for her water exercise. At the edge of the pool Grandma would tuck a round pool float under her chin to help keep her head out of the water, and with a huge yell she’d race down the steps and into the water (up to her neck, of course, so as not to wet her hair).
People would joke about her loud hollering every time she got into the water. But apparently that was the best way she knew to adapt to the uncomfortableness of warm skin against cold water: Let out a big yell. AAAHHHHHHH!!!!!! But once she was all the way in and had given a few graceful butterfly strokes, her beautiful smile would wrinkle up her cheeks. Away she would go, swimming laps and announcing each one as if we were all waiting to applaud her achievement. “31!… 32!…33!…”
As I sit here in my house for day kajillion of Safer at Home, I have to remind myself daily that this is temporary. This is uncomfortable and unpleasant, but it is something we have to do so that we can stay healthy.
Do I yell sometimes? Yes, inwardly. I yell because I’m grieving the good things we used to have and took for granted, like playgrounds and beaches and classrooms and churches filled with people. I yell because I’m not working and I don’t know when I’ll be able to go back to a job that I love. I yell because I feel trapped and I wish I could be out with people. I yell because I’m tired of the fear that is so heavy you can feel its weight when you pass by people.
But each day I get into my groove. With grace I find my rhythm. The beautiful blue sky outside my window is not afraid, not trapped, and gives me hope that I will be out adventuring in the world again. I just have to go through the motions a few more times. Keep moving forward. A few more days. They go by so quickly, if you don’t celebrate them quick it will be too late. 31, thank you essential workers! 32, I appreciate you first responders! 33, we love you, teachers and school employees! Persisting. Day by day, breath by breath. Thankful and grateful for another day, and knowing that the discomfort is only temporary.
Be well my friends, and find me on Instagram.