I hope you're doing well. The historic time that we're living through right now -- a worldwide pandemic -- is something that I struggle to comprehend on a daily basis. Is this real?!
Lives are on the line and being lost on a scale unknown to most of us. It's scary. I try not to let fear get the best of me, but it's hard sometimes.
When I feel like I'm going in a bad direction, I try to step away from the news, my computer and my phone. I read a book or magazine. Call someone. Tend to my plants. Do some cleaning and blast my favorite music. Organize paperwork. Light some candles. Burn some incense. Bake something. Sit and meditate.
Most of us will survive this. But our lives will be forever altered. This in between part is transforming us individually and collectively. In ways that we don't know yet.
Intense heat and pressure on carbon causes the transformation into diamonds. A caterpillar is living its best life until all bets are off. But then it transforms into a butterfly. Society will not be the same after. Hopefully it will be better.
It felt like nothing would be same after 9/11, and it wasn't. But we got used to it and adapted to the new normal. We will adapt again to whatever the new normal will be after this is all over.
I'm writing this to you, but it's also to reassure myself and keep a sense of normalcy.
The list of free yoga classes for the off-season has been updated, but I'm not sure when in person classes will be happening again. May? June? July? Who knows? As Dr. Fauci says, we don't make the timeline, the virus does.
like you are washing the only teacup left that your great grandmother carried across the ocean, like you are washing the hair of a beloved who is dying, like you are washing the feet of Grace Lee Boggs, Beyonce, Jesus, your auntie, Audre Lorde, Mary Oliver- you get the picture.
Like this water is poured from a jug your best friend just carried for three miles from the spring they had to climb a mountain to reach.
Like water is a precious resource
made from time and miracle"
~ Excerpt from the beautiful poem Wash Your Hands, by Dori Midnight
