Does it take a global pandemic to learn to say 'no'?

Insidious like cancer, surreptitiously Corona crept in to become our daily dose. Impossibly, a silent foe has done what no one else could; all at once, as a global community, we shuddered to a stop. Vulnerable and connected, first in fear, and then united in defiance. We are, after all, wired to fight for survival.

You know, I'm an adaptable sort. For the most part. And unfailingly (some would say, annoyingly) optimistic. But for the first time since the Covid craziness became our norm, this morning I am unsettled. Answers are less instinctive. I feel adrift. Nerves raw. And, unexpectedly, a sense of sadness wells as I breathe in the aching beauty of our world. 

There is fear; for those I love, the vulnerable, and the economic challenges which inevitably lie ahead. Worry that the perpetual juggle of mother, lover, wife, daughter, friend and business leader seems, more than ever, impossible. And yet now, more than ever, the juggle finally really matters. Life's demands have become more urgent. Compelling. Real.

I feel the pressure. To step up and do better. But these last few days I've found it hard to defy the dangerous pull to … stop. To hug, breathe and do nothing. And then the surge of irritation that I cannot. Must not.

I wish I could just chat, share tips for isolating with success and laugh at memes. And I do take some voyeuristic pleasure in watching quietly from behind the scenes. But in truth, I find the incessant demands of Zoom and social media increase my anxiety because I can't just stop. Who of us can? When countless people are losing their livelihoods and isolation makes a quick recovery a bleak prospect? When there is work to do, family to feed, kids to educate and self-care is a delicate daily balancing act? And that's all before we check in on friends, family and colleagues, ever-present in our minds, even though holding them again in our arms, or sharing a high-five, or just doing nothing together feels so bloody far away.

It's not all that bad, really. Not for me, in any case. I do know that. And I remind myself to keep striving, but also that it is important to create space not to know. To remember it's okay to have days where I wish I could stop, even just for a while. That I am not a terrible person because I want the internet to fail so I can safely … say nothing. Do nothing! To make time for a tear or two to cut a path, at last, thankfully allowing the mind a moment of reprieve and the heart time to grieve.

We'll be okay. And we will learn and grow from this experience. Individually, as families, communities and as a nation. Because it turns out, we're fighters. We are fuelled by love and the Aussie's intrinsic pioneer determination to prevail.

Still, at times my heart stumbles, slipping into an uncertain march, as I ache for those who have, and who will suffer. But then, a moment of pause. The quick intake of breath, and I remember. The wolf's howl is a haunting song, of the hunt and loss. And of love. But it never stops the moon from rising, glowing and sinking away. Relentlessly. Perpetually. Magnetically.

So, I am letting go. Of knowing. Of the need for control.

Instead, I give myself over to life's tribal rhythm; the mesmerising thrum-thrum-thrum as my heart deepens its stride, steady again. I imagine dancing behind the shaman, mercifully leading us away from certainty. Awareness is heightened. Enjoyment in simple mercies, amplified. Now, gratitude has become fundamental.

Perhaps we have lost sight of our smallness as individuals and sit, at last, in awe of the enormous power of this incredible world in which we live. We cannot control nature. Hell, we've seen our efforts backfire, creating deep rifts in the soul of this precious planet. And as she fought back with fire, flood and now disease, she has reminded us. Bringing us not to our knees, but back into alignment, and each other's arms.

I am carefully embracing this gift. Sensitive to the genuine pain and loss rolling in waves through the lives of so many, I won't stomp and dance too vigorously. But I am embracing the growth forced upon me. Slower, and more resistant to the dance of others. Forgiveness is now not just for others, but also me. I am asking for help more and refusing to feel bad when I simply cannot do, say, call, or feel anything more. At least not today.

There's nothing new in this. And I'm guessing that if I had taken up yoga and meditation any one of the million times I thought about it, I'd be ahead. But given the innumerable self-help books, widespread mental health issues, relentless bloody wars, and all the negative guff in between, perhaps I am not alone. Indeed, if the fervent conversations I overhear waiting for takeaway coffee are any indicator, I'm willing to bet money on this. And I am not a gambler.

So, this is my confession.

Balance has always been hard to find. Creating space for my needs, alongside those of people I love, is tough. Not because they won't allow it, but because life, my heart and mind are full. Feeling fragile or vulnerable, or having time for a quick cry, is for 3 am when the house is deathly quiet, and the pinging of the computer has finally stopped.

I think at last I've learnt that it's okay not to know. That every day won't be, can't be, as sure as the one before. And that others will step up and into the void, arms and hearts wide open.

If nothing else, Covid19 has shown us, this.

And this, my plea.

Stay strong and remain connected. But also embrace the need to create space for your mind and heart. Give yourself time to breathe in deeply, on your terms and in your own time.

Learn to forgive yourself as naturally as you do others. Apologies are potent if genuine. But also remember, accepting an apology is a gift to the penitent.

Hold yourself accountable. Get up and try and care. But you also have the right to say no. Learn to be okay with what you can achieve today, and do just that. 

Let's help each other to reach out with care, generosity and courage to help those who do not have our strength and resources. To lift those around us, giving and doing so much for others. And to aid without judgment those who simply, cannot. Let's also strive quietly to accept human frailties, in ourselves and others. And finally, let us be sure to take on with us timely lessons that will nurture our earth and communities back to health, bestowing meaning on the pain and loss.

In the spirit of this article, there's no pressure to say a thing! To give the thumbs up or share. But of course, if you would like to share your experiences, feelings, what you have learnt or wonder about, then I'd love to hear from you.

#covid19 #mentalhealth #selfcare