Covid-19: Anxiety, Faith, and Practice
I have been following the covid-19 story with avid interest over the last few weeks. My news feed is full of scientists and doctors advising quarantine-type measures, hand-washing, and a sober respect for the new pathogen in our midst, along with dire predictions from economists, and what seems to me to be more-than-the-usual-dose of absurdity from our current administration. My inbox is replete with notifications from yoga studios across the country announcing closures and a slew of advertisements promising to help ease my stress with everything from new clothes and essential oils to gift cards for restaurants in cities I visited over five years ago. My social media feeds are brimming with yoga teachers announcing their online asana classes and meditation offerings to help people stay connected to their practice during this time of uncertainty and strain.
Oh, and dogs. But that is mostly me posting things about dogs and people posting their dog photos in response. And two of my friends even got puppies this week, so that is a bonus. But I digress.
I have been teaching online for years and so, well, hopefully, by now, you know where to find me. I have been hard at work compiling content for my year-long program, Studies in Form and Flow, that is underway (and not too late to join) and getting some resources together for the Braving the Blank Page, a year-long writing course that has some online support between live meetings. I find the work soothing and grounding, reminding me of the blessing it is to teach and practice yoga.
Don’t get me wrong. I am anxious. I have cancelled my upcoming workshops and trainings and expect more to be postponed in the near future. I am just like anyone else out there looking at the list of monthly expenses and facing the reality that one can not pay bills with money they do not have. I am a human being full of fear, insecurity, and anxiety comes for me more often than I wish.
I am also a person of faith. This week, I have been contemplating what it means to have faith in the certainty that I will be okay versus faith in the promise that things will be okay. Seems to me that lots of “things” may be lost— finances, houses, businesses, and most certainly convenience, autonomy, and personal freedom. And even health may be lost, and I don’t really think of health as a “thing.” But, I am watching myself make plans for x,y, and z outcomes as though I am not going to get sick. I hope I do not get sick. I hope you do not get sick. But people will get sick and there is no reason to think that prayer, practice, and faith will safeguard me from illness, no matter how well I boost my immune system.
On a practical note, Kelly has been researching the Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) herbal protocols used in treating covid-19 and we are implementing many of those into our daily regime. The regions in China that have treated the virus with allopathic approaches in conjunction with TCM have had less duration and fewer fatalities from the virus. Drop a note in the comments if you’d like a brief web-based lesson on what he has learned and maybe we can make that happen.
These are the kind of thoughts that I work with. Chances are you are not still reading because you found my musings a bit bleak today. But if you are reading, then you might be like me in finding reality more reassuring than blithe affirmations. Don’t get me wrong, I do think “everything works out” in some grand scale, but I do not think that we get to know the timetable for such promised resolutions, which brings me to my consideration of “being okay” versus “things working out.”
Even taken to the extreme of death, I believe I will be okay, but that is a big topic for a different day. So, backing down from death as the parameter and into a direct relationship with my daily fears and the challenges ahead, I feel anxious and also okay. I feel worried and also okay. Regardless of predicted income for the next few months, my twice-daily meditations still take me deep into a well-spring of ease. My asana practices still shift my mood. My hikes in nature remain a reminder of majesty, beauty, and grandeur. My friends, colleagues, and students still help me laugh, soften, and see that my life is connected to a web of support much larger than my moments of contraction. My dog still looks at me like I am her hero and she remains a perfect being in my eyes. My houseplants are thriving, my garden starts are growing by the day, and outside the peonies are pushing up from the ground promising the return of spring. And my cats still can not seem to get enough time in my lap.
So, I am a person of faith and practice. And, like I so often say, no one can do the work for us and yet we can not do it alone. We need each other. We need to borrow each other’s faith, bolster one another’s courage, and find meaning in the process of struggling together.
That’s what I have for today.
That, and an upcoming web offering spear-headed by the lovely Barrie Risman. And, also Kira Grace will be sharing some classes and meditations of mine and other awesome ambassadors on their IG account, so follow them. Oh, and my latest podcast episode dropped Sunday— all about suffering and love as game-changers, so there should be some good nuggets in there to work with.
And, if you want conversation, leave a note in the comments and let me know how you are experiencing faith, fear, practice, and life in these uncertain times. Oh, and it thrills me when you share my blog entries.
More soon.
