Moving Through Distress

NaBloPoMo 2020 – Today’s Lesson

Sometimes the storm you’ve seen coming all along still sneaks up on you. 

COVID essentially obliterated 2020.  My colleagues and I saw the signs in the spring.  We knew all summer that things would get worse again when folks started gathering indoors.  But I did not anticipate a surge until after Thanksgiving.  Wow.  I stand a little agape, but I shouldn’t.

Four years ago I knew it could go either way… in my rational brain.  But my limbic brain would not believe it.  So I was despondent.  I’ve done so much work since then, channeling rage and outrage into nascent activism.  I have hewn closer to my core values, strived hard to be my best self, walking the talk, as if that would make any outcome tonight easier to take.  All year we have known it would be a toss-up again.  And here I am, suffering something akin to PTSD.

My usual workouts and mind-body practices would not cut it.  This day I needed rhythm, music, and another kind of movement.  Some folks at work joined me on a video dance-along to the Kongos—thank you Kathy Varol!  I listened to my Spotify playlist instead of books or podcasts, and walked in time.  Daughter and I played piano for the first time in months—Pachelbel’s Canon and Clementi’s famous Sonatina.  Nice to know that muscle memory can persist 30+ years.

All of my coping skills are called forth now and for the foreseeable future.  At least I’m better today at hearing how my soul asks to be soothed.  That’s a win.

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