I’ve been thinking about something Krista Tippett said on her On Being podcast (episode on the pandemic’s impact on our nervous systems): “We need to take in what it has meant, this year, that we have become a danger to each other by virtue of our breath.”
It’s going to take time to fully process this past year and a half. Questions I’m currently exploring and craving conversation around:
What have I learned about myself?
What do I want to let go of? Stop doing or do differently?
What do I want to prioritize and nurture?
Now with the uncertainty of the Delta variant and having young unvaccinated kids at home, it often feels like we’re still in survival mode and there’s not space to reflect or process. But when I do have some space, I’ve been thinking about a skill I’ve heard Deb Burgard, PhD talk about as an underrated skill in our culture: the skill of beginning again.
It feels great to feel like you’re in your groove: maybe you’ve found a flow that works for you with a certain movement class or meal planning or meditation practice. Or maybe you’re in a comfortable groove with something like work, parenting or your social support. There’s some ease, predictability and safety.
Inevitably, we lose our groove: a knee injury, the yoga studio closes, a work reorganization, friends move away, a new health condition, school shuts down, your child’s developmental stage changes, you’re burnt out on cooking, covid hits.
Beginning again usually involves discomfort, vulnerability and uncertainty. Picture the first day of school, trying any new hobby for the first time, or stepping into a new movement studio (um, where are the towels? Am I wearing the right clothes for this?).
It takes more mental and emotional energy to begin again. You gotta psych yourself up for it. It’s normal and part of the process to feel some awkwardness and frustration along the way (e.g. “Ugh – this isn’t quite what I was hoping for”) as you try to find your groove again.
If we were the experts on everything that mattered to us, life would be boring and there would be no room for growth. What’s something you’re trying to find a groove with? What might benefit from the space and grace of allowing yourself to begin again?