The battle of surrender
Suffice it to say, it has been a weird, weird Spring. Frozen in a state of paralysis, I watched time first stand still, then rush down the corridor in a torrent. Weeks spilled into weekends into a space beyond the clock. Did I wake up at 6 am or 10 am? Did I even eat breakfast today?
A strict schedule, the setting of an alarm. That will bring the necessary structure missing from my days. But even those things, matched with an ambitious workout routine and a somewhat healthy diet, have not seemed to help really. The brain fog remains as uncertainty waggles just above our heads. Across the city, the country, the continent, the globe.
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Reduced media consumption seems to help, or so I think. Until I reach for my iPhone once again in a desperate attempt to gain a foothold on reality with social connection gone missing since mid-March. I read too many tweets — like chomping on too much candy — hoping that just one more will make me feel better.
And yet it does not.
The five stages of grief settled markedly on my calendar as I observed my own struggle. First denial, then anger, then bargaining, then depression, then acceptance. If I am honest, I skipped anger for a long while and went straight to the negotiating table, only to realize I was arguing with myself and no one else. So I flounced about my limited surroundings, scrubbing toilets with a fury reserved for the deeply insane.
My apartment has never been so clean.
At moments when the anger returns, I am careful not to act on it in a social media setting. Too many conspiracy theorists have poisoned the well and I have been surprised at those whom I thought well-educated subscribing to many of them.
The intensity of life has been reduced to a handful of square feet and many of us are left feeling there is nowhere to go with it all.
I discovered the power of coloring mandalas yesterday. It requires deep concentration, yet provides a sense of flow and grace that no thumb-scrolling can.
Do you battle for surrender? Frankly, I am still at war with the world – surprisingly so. This crisis has brought out the best and the worst. Trying to adjust to a new normal when everything is changing is a great life lesson. Some days I feel as strong as the Northern Winds. On others I am knocked down by them.
In the face of adversity, Jack Canfield will ask: “What is it that I am supposed to learn from this?” I ask myself that question routinely now. We will get through it with the help that Slow’s power brings.
I surrender. I truly do. And should we come out stronger because of it, I will be grateful. In fact, I already am.
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