Finding Grace Underwater
For several years I lived in Greece, surrounded by the gorgeous blue-green waters of the Aegean Sea. Having always been drawn to the water, I spent long hours at the beach, watching the crystal clear water gently lap up against the shore, leaving behind colorful treasures from the sea, and bubbles of frothy white foam.
The first step into the water was always a bit jarring, a collision of cool water against warm skin. With each step forward, I felt lighter and more buoyant, the water rising up and enveloping my body, as feelings of gratitude, joy and awe swirled around me.
And then I would dive under — the sounds of life around me muted by the hum of the sea — and it was so beautiful.
But every now and then, if I thought too long about the vastness of water around me — the breadth and depth and darkness that lay far below, and the sheer power and churn of the sea — fear would overshadow the joy and I could feel panic begin to rise, as I felt weighed down with the knowledge that in the blink of an eye things could shift and the sea could swallow me up whole.
And for a brief moment I would feel small, helpless, and at the mercy of something far bigger than me.
And then I would remember that in this moment I was okay and just above me was the air and I could choose to go up for it at any time. And with that knowledge my body would relax and surrender to sea, and find grace underwater.
The recent outbreak of COVID-19 has added new levels of anxiety and uncertainty to our already fast-paced, stress-filled society. It has become a demarcation point in the timeline of our lives. Non-stop news cycles coupled with uncertainty about the length of the impending disruption, and social distancing, have left many people feeling small, helpless, and at the mercy of something far bigger than they are.
The whole thing has been really strange for me — I find myself feeling like I’m watching everything unfold around me — a spectator rather than a participant. Had this happened a few years ago, I think my reaction would have been so different — most likely filled with fear and a sense of hopelessness. But my life has changed so much over the past year, shifting my perspective along with it.
These days more than anything I feel the common humanity that comes with this global pandemic — the knowledge that I am not alone in this. And, despite the weight of everything currently bearing down on us as a society, I find myself still feeling hopeful, grateful, and aware that there are still things that are within my control — I still have choices I can make, including how I choose to show up in the world, in this moment.
While I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like to be sick or caring for a loved one who is at risk in this moment — I know that feeling grounded in the present moment is so fundamentally important to feeling a sense of control so I can put one foot in front of the other to keep moving forward.
The events of the past few weeks have forced me to slow down and really look at my life. Things that I was stressing over or worrying about just three weeks ago seem so insignificant compared to the current cycle of death and destruction in which we find ourselves. My daily meditation practice has helped me keep my mind-body connection strong and allowed me to feel grounded in the present moment, especially when the news from outside of the safety of my four walls feels overwhelming.
Social distancing has given me greater perspective about my relationships and the important role connection to others plays in my life. Having the time to cook my meals at home and go for long walks in nature has allowed me to savor the little things and recognize the value of my time — and where I do, and don’t, want to spend it. Practicing gratitude has given me the gift of recognizing the richness of my life in this moment.
The knowledge that COVID-19 is an equal opportunity virus, has reminded me that no amount of privilege or wealth can buy any of us out of the current situation, but that the money I do have can be donated to serve others in the form of food for children who normally get their meals at school, supplies for first responders, and helping to keep small businesses afloat.
I have found that even in the midst of chaos and overwhelm, we always have choices we can make, even if it’s just the choice of how we’re responding to a particular situation. Surrendering to what is happening around us isn’t weak or giving up — it’s an act of courage and faith in the belief that in this moment, we are okay, and we will survive what is happening to us and come out stronger on the other end.
