A couple years ago, I had a little bit of a health scare after doctors found a benign tumor on my pituitary gland. It wasn’t a massive deal, but even so, it produced a fair amount of stress + challenge + anxiety + stuff to deal with.
I’ve been thinking a lot about that time in light of our collective global situation -- and about all the ways our grief asks us to be present, our fear asks us to be intentional, and our overwhelm asks us to tend to what’s in front of us now (and about how much energy that takes).
During my health scare, I did a pretty okay job dealing with the tasks + feelings + appointments + uncertainties one at a time.
But there was one day when I lost my grip -- when the fear + overwhelm + the bigness of the situation came rushing in beyond what I could sort through in the moment (it was the day I received the medical bill for my first MRI).
I was at work, so I was tempted to try to shove it down and keep it moving, but I had the presence of mind to know I needed space. So I escaped to a basement storage closet where I cried for 5 minutes (exactly what I needed).
All of this feels a lot like now. I mostly have it together. I mostly have what I need to make it through this time, even as it asks a lot.
But every so often, overwhelm happens, a wave of grief hits, or I just get scared, and I need whatever the equivalent is (in that moment) of 5 minutes alone in the basement storage closet.
I’ve been trying to remember to give myself whatever that is -- to interrupt my day to feel my feelings and take care of myself in the hard moments.
On default, I try to talk myself out of this and come up with all kinds of reasons why I have it better than others and therefore don’t have the right to be upset + scared + overwhelmed.
But that’s not how it works.
Our feelings are not something we have to earn, justify, or even understand. They’re not something we can calculate or explain with linear formulas + predictions.
They just want to be felt. And taking time + space to feel them (+ take care of ourselves while we do) is a necessary + important thing.
However this is going for you, I hope you’re creating space + permission for whatever is rising up to be met in this moment. That in itself is an act of love + care.