5 Things I've Learned During 2 Months of Quarantine
This should be a podcast, but I can’t figure out how to fix my audio recording issues today and I don’t have the interest in sorting that out. So, let’s write. Now that I say that, I’m actually happy I’m writing. It’s been a while. Maybe my podcast didn’t work as the Universe’s way of telling me to write.
I haven’t written during quarantine. It hasn’t felt right and my head and heart have been so full of thoughts, ideas and inspiration that I felt called to spend my energy on creating and doing rather than writing about it, but now I’m ready to write.
2 months. If someone had told me just a few months ago that I would stay home for 2 straight months, I wouldn’t have believed them. None of us would have believed this. There are things I miss. Writing in coffee shops on the weekends, sharing fries with the table, getting in a crowded subway and meeting friends for happy hour on the Upper West Side.
I’ve found myself saying more than once, “I’m really enjoying quarantine.” Then I feel like a garbage human, because the loss of human life is devastating. People are dying alone in hospital beds surrounded by medical staff in hazmat suits with their family members saying goodbye on iPad screens. That’s not okay. I don’t know how to live in a world where that’s okay. And at the same time, I’m the most peaceful, clear and centered I’ve ever been. Can massive loss of lives and personal peace coexist? For me, they are, and that’s very confusing.
When this all started (mid-March 2020 by NYC standards), I kept saying “this will be the best, worst thing to happen to us.” I still believe that. In fact, I believe it even more. When I’m on my deathbed, I’ll remember quarantine 2020.
We’re not done yet. Not by a long shot. Some cities are starting to return to “normal” as if we’re Humpty Dumpty and we can just glue this thing back together and look like we once did. I hope we don’t look like we once did. Mother Nature definitely hopes we don’t look like we once did.
There’s no theme or plan here (I actually don’t know what I’m about to write). But here’s my quarantine pandemic experience 2 months in:
Quiet: I’m really (really) loving the quiet. I grew up in Seattle in the 80’s in a time before phones and technology and distractions. I spent my childhood riding my bike until the sun set, playing in the woods around our house, jumping through a lawn sprinkler, chasing grasshoppers in our yard. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed quiet, downtime, headspace. I’m home all day now (60 days and counting) and I live on a very quiet street in the West Village. I hear birds chirping and right now there’s some sort of owl noise happening, but it’s morning so maybe it’s another kind of creature? This has reminded me how much I crave quiet. I’m not watching much tv. I’m on my computer most of the day in pure silence. It’s nice. I’ve always had this vision of having a place on a lake one day. Maybe that day will come sooner than I originally planned. Lakes have always given me peace and stillness.
Humanity: wearing a mask is uncomfortable, I can’t breathe well and I don’t like how it covers our faces. I miss seeing smiles. But I see eyes. I find myself looking into people’s eyes more. Masks symbolize care for your fellow humans. My mask saves you and your mask saves me. My mask doesn’t save me. So when I walk by you and I’m wearing a mask, I’m wearing it for you. It reminds me of that story about the people who were all sitting around a bowl of soup but their spoons were too long to reach their mouths, so they fed each other.
Truth: you’re going to end with the truth, so why not begin with it? If anything has caused me to take inventory of how I’m spending this one precious life, this is it. I’m finding my truth, day by day. What do I truly want my life to feel like? Not look like…feel like. When I think about what my life looks like, I think about others and how it looks to them. I really don’t care how my life looks to anyone else. I’m feeling called towards what feels good. What lights me up. What brings up a full body yes. At the beginning of 2020, I dedicated the year to the word “feel.” I would pause and allow myself to feel before making decisions. Do what feels good. Don’t do what feels bad. It was time to be truthful with myself.
Release: over the past 2 months, I have released so much of what I have held onto with a 10 and 2 grip for years. I’ve released caring about the judgement or opinions of others (if only we knew how rarely other people think about us). I’ve released fear of poverty and being alone (two very real fears I developed in childhood). I’ve released my commitment to following the “rules” (what rules was I even following?) and making sure everyone else was happy before I was happy. This is a beautiful, loving release. If someone told me that they spent any part of their energy worried about upsetting me, wondering what I thought of them, worried they’d end up poor and alone, I would give them the biggest hug and tell them they are safe to release those concerns, thoughts and fears. I’m hugging myself.
Belief: I’ve never believed more in humanity, myself and the people I love. I’ve never been more honest with myself about the life I want to live. It’s a really good life filled with the people I love the most, creating and doing the work I was put here to do. I’m giving myself permission to change my mind and change direction at any time. What feels right today might not feel right tomorrow. There’s something magical and inviting about having your entire life paused and what you knew to be true to be completely pulled apart overnight. It feels like an invitation to step back, eyes wide open and give yourself permission to let go of what wasn’t serving you and move towards was feels right. There’s something freeing about realizing that you really don’t have control over your life. I thought I did. How cool is it to be proven so incredibly wrong?
I’ve also learned and tried new things that have completely changed my brain and my headspace. A few of those:
Journaling - I now start my daily journal with these words: “If I was really being honest…” I write those words, then see what flows out of me. Holy shit. It’s been eye opening.
Meditation - I still suck at it, but I do it daily for 10 minutes. 2 months in, I suck a little less.
Home - my home has been my sanctuary, my safe place, my beautiful surrender during this time. I’ll never complain about how small it is ever again.
Voice - I’m exhausted from texting and am mostly making calls now. I love it. This will continue.
Ritual - I started doing the Sacred Six routine every morning (discovered this courtesy of Amy Young). It takes about 30 minutes and has changed my day, every day.
Sobriety - other than 2 (very delicious) margaritas on Cinco de Mayo, I haven’t had a drink in 2 months. I don’t know where I’ll go with this because I really love a couple of glasses of wine with dinner or a cocktail on a rooftop in summer. What I know for sure is that 2 months of no drinking has felt really, really good.
Wherever you are and however you’re experiencing this shift in humanity, I’m sending you love, lightness and clarity. You were chosen to be alive during this time because it takes very special people with the strongest minds, hearts and souls to navigate this with love and kindness.
- Amy
