Anxiety in the Pandemic….but wait there’s more
June. I found my June looking different from other Junes that came before. Part of our identity as humans is found in the passage of time and the structure that it provides. Many a Wednesday has heard the phrase, “Today feels like a Friday,” or if Monday could talk, I bet it would tell of all the times people said it felt like a Tuesday. This thought process shapes the idea of the moment we are in and is based on regularly scheduled activities and routine. This past June did not feel like a June, or a July, or any other month for that matter. Time stood still. With the world in a shutdown and the word “quarantine” being used more now than it probably ever has been, there felt like no physical proof the month was June. This provides an insight into the way our minds view the passage of time. I think we view it as linear, and this summer felt cyclical and never ending for sure.
The art of learning how to slow down an anxious heart and mind was a pressing concern for me. With normal structure upturned there was more space for worry and new uncertainties. The process of “grounding” helped me feel more connected to the world. Grounding is the process by which the focus of your thoughts is redirected from an inward perspective to an outward one. I looked at flowers. I felt the earth beneath my bare feet. “June,” I whispered to myself. “I’m in June.” I tried to pull my mind from the rut of March into the heat of the summer. It’s hard to explain, but this exercise actually helped. Racing thoughts were slower, and the voice in my head screaming everything was wrong took a break. Alongside new worries there was also more space for an appreciation for the experiences that were once overlooked. There was more time in the day to reconnect (over the phone of course) with old friends. Fighting a mental battle doesn’t have to be a one man fight. In fact, it’s encouraged to bring your friends inside your mind so that they can share in the journey. Hardship, suffering, and injustice are plentiful right now, and it can feel as if the world spins more and more out of contol each day. While it is important to acknowledge these battles, it’s also important to breathe in peace. When we let good and pure thoughts into our mind, it makes the evil have a weaker hold. Sometimes when I think about peace, I think of the flowers that are growing on my porch back at home. They are still and calm and quiet.
Right now it's no longer June; it’s September. How different from the cold spring when the pandemic took hold, and now the calamity has spread to the far ends of the earth. Each of us leads a different life, and it can be hard to find something that connects us all. Even so, a common factor intertwined between everyone is the ground we walk on. A lyric I think about often from the Ben Rector song “I Like You” talks about how life isn’t solely the mountain top experiences and the pitfalls that follow, but it’s the walking in between that is special. Anxiety doesn’t differentiate between seasons of life and can hit at anytime. It can wedge itself into the depth of your mind and make you believe nothing good can come from your life. In the Bible, Nathaniel questions if anything good can come from Nazareth. He receives the response of, “Come and see.” I have given myself the challenge to come to the bright side of my thoughts and try to view my life through the lens of hope. A challenge to be content in the “in-between.” A challenge for peace.
The cooling September wind is beginning to wind its way through the city and whistle though the pages of our lives. I’d like to imagine that the wind carries hope and peace that will settle like freshly fallen snow over us all. (except the plants on the porch, they would not find peace in that lol)
Citations
Rector, Ben. “I Like You.” The Walking in Between.
