Leave it to me to be practically giddy during a pandemic. This is an irony that doesn’t escape me, being that just two months ago I was bordering on falling into a deep melancholy. I was missing things, longing for things that I envisioned in my mind but that placed me in the past (“if only!”), and had me coming from a place of lack. And now, here we are, four weeks into the Stay at Home order for my state of Michigan, and I am giddy with joy and appreciation, seeing possibilities and positive things everywhere I look.
I want to be truthful that it was not always like this. At the beginning of the shutdown, I had my moments of worry in the night. Worry for my son-in-law’s health, as he continued working; worry and hurt for so many who are not able to work but who were not in any position to live without even one paycheck; worry about my dogs if I ended up at the hospital for a long stretch – who would take care of them!? I had some moments of visceral stress reactions, where my hands shook, even if I wasn’t consciously aware of exactly what was causing the stress. I napped more. I allowed myself to rest, and to turn off the news, and to read lots of good books.
I’ve now settled in with a lovely routine, and because it is so very routine (no room for much variation!), I am finding my attention drawn to fine details, the subtle differences that occur as just a regular part of nature, that I’ve long forgotten or been too busy or distracted to notice. Or at least to notice as often as I am now.
And this time, this down time, this much needed, welcome, incredibly restorative time, has helped me to find the joy, helped me to recognize when I’m having a negative thought, to turn it to something positive; or if that’s not possible, when I find a thought that pulls me down and feels heavy, I can at least strive to elevate my thoughts to the next step up on the emotional scale; and if that’s not possible, I can at least recognize that the thought is pulling me down, and I can choose to ignore it. I can choose to focus on something that feels light, that lifts me up, that buoys me, even if it’s totally unrelated to the downer.
Those methods are working for me. I’ve been doing the work, this is my work – this is my Lisa Improvement Project – this internal work of refocusing my thoughts, based on my emotions, and it’s working, let me tell you.
I see such joy and beauty in the world these days. I see children riding their bikes, parents playing with their kids, I see people taking time to do the things that make them happy. I see lots of people spending lots of time outdoors — in our state, that’s allowed as long as folks give each other a wide berth. I see the earth healing. The skies are so blue. The plane contrails aren’t mucking up my view or my auditory experience – it’s quiet! Things feel calmer in the world. The birds are singing – their song is being heard!
We have swans in Venice, sea turtles laying their eggs uninterrupted on beaches, views of the Himalayas unhindered by pollution and other majestic wonders that didn’t really take that long to “heal” – to undo the negative impacts of our species. It’s very promising to me. It feels like an absolute gift, for me, for the world.
There is darkness, but there is also light. Through a global pandemic, through politics and fear and sickness and hardship, the wonderful still makes its way through: There is love, there is healing, there is compassion and forgiveness and joy.
