How the pandemic has shed light on what matters most

Hand holding flower next to sign that reads grow.
Photo by Carla Kucinski.

If you’re feeling like you’re in the throes of pandemic reentry anxiety, you are not alone. I am right there with you. And I would imagine, based on the conversations I’ve been having lately with others, that many people are in a similar place.  

For the past 12+ months, we have all been in a continual state of crisis, stress and groundlessness that has significantly altered our lives. And now, suddenly, it’s like someone flipped a switch and declared the pandemic “over.” Except it’s not. People are still in the ICU fighting for their lives. People are still losing loved ones. We are still in a pandemic.  

What I’m noticing in my conversations is that the sudden shift from isolation to reentering the world has heightened peoples’ anxiety—and justifiably so. The fear, the worry, the overwhelm are all valid responses after more than a year of being immersed in trauma, grief, loss, isolation and enormous change.

“The fear, the worry, the overwhelm are all valid responses after more than a year of being immersed in trauma, grief, loss, isolation and enormous change.”

The common thread woven throughout the stories people have shared with me is the desire to not go back to the way their life was or the person they were before the pandemic. There is a wish to be more intentional, mindful, gentle and slow in easing into the new world we live in now and to integrate and maintain the new ways of being, feeling and thinking we’ve developed during quarantine. And there is also a deep, real fear of losing these new ways of being that have nourished and sustained us during this challenging time.

Asking the Larger Questions

The return to something or to enter something again is the fundamental definition of reentry. Except, in the context of the pandemic, what we are returning to is no longer the same. But I truly believe that resilience is inherent in all of us. You will find your way. 

If you find yourself lately asking existential questions such as, who am I? What am I doing with my life? What do I want to do with my life? What matters to me? rest assured these are perfectly human and natural questions to ponder, especially during a pandemic. It takes courage to sit with these deeper questions, not to mention it can feel scary to face them. But these questions are important ones to be asking and will help provide you with clarity and guidance.

While this time is certainly filled with anxiety, it also may be a moment to create more meaning in your life. For some, the pandemic has shown them what they can and cannot live without. What once felt necessary no longer is, and what has emerged is a spotlight on the things that matter most.  What matters most to you?

A friend shared with me recently that as the COVID restrictions began to ease, it felt as if a fog was beginning to lift in their own life. And they started to ask the bigger existential questions. They felt like they were on the cusp of a major transformation. I commonly see this happen after someone has survived a trauma and moved through the despair of their grief.  It’s like going from seeing everything in black and white to color and discovering your inner strength and resilience to survive incredibly hard things.

“It’s like going from seeing everything in black and white to color and realizing your inner strength and resilience to survive incredible hard things.”

I couldn’t help but think of these past 15 months like being in a cocoon. All of us undergoing a metamorphosis. The essence and structure of our lives changing shape. For some of us, our metamorphosis may have caused subtle, but powerful, small shifts; for others, cataclysmic, life-altering, big shifts. We have all changed and grown in some way.  

Metamorphosis of yellow butterfly perched on purple flower.
By Petr Ganaj

In a recent interview Oprah did with life coach Martha Beck, she asked her what was the greatest lesson she learned about herself during the pandemic. Martha quipped: “I really do not need that many pants.” Martha went on to share how she learned that less stimulation, more stillness and a slower pace is better for her nervous system. 

I’ve learned this lesson during the pandemic too. As someone who possesses some perfectionism tendencies and is prone to pushing and “being productive,” I’m learning how these patterns are not helpful or enjoyable for me. Like many of you, I’m in the process of unlearning what no longer serves me and integrating ways of being, thinking and feeling that are more aligned with what matters most to me right now.

Transitions are hard and painful. They’re also temporary. Eventually, we move through them and we learn something about ourselves. To borrow a beautiful and poignant quote from Bishop T.D. Jakes: “Pain always leaves a gift.”  

***

Pandemic Reentry Tips

As you move through this time of transition, keep these things in mind:  

  • You have agency.
  • Make choices that feel right and true and safe for you—not what you think you should do or what you see other people doing, but what truly feels aligned with you.  
  • This is new for all of us. It will take some trial and error to figure out what feels best.  
  • Go gently and slowly. Take your time. There’s no rush.  
  • Most of all, be kind to yourself and others as you move through this.   

*** 

Further Reflection

Below are some reflection questions I have explored (and continue to explore) on my own and with trusted loved ones. They might also be helpful to you during this time of transition.

Mug of coffee next to journal that reads Smart, Strong, Fearless, Resilient
Photo by Carla Kucinski

What did I learn during the pandemic about myself? Others? Life?  

What did I learn I could live without? What did I learn I couldn’t live without? 

What practices or habits did I start during the pandemic that I would like to carry forward? What boundaries do I need to create in order to protect and maintain these practices?

What matters most to me?

What gives my life meaning? How can I continue to create meaning in my daily life?  

What are the ways I want to connect with others? 

What would “easing back in” look like for me? 

How to care for ourselves during times of grief

Sticks forming shape of a heart
Photo by Carla Kucinski.

“In Fearrington, North Carolina, my grandparents had lived by a pond, where geese plodded around with those curved black necks, squeaky honking. My Grandpa Miller explained that during migration, birds flew in V formation. The bird at the front, the tip of the V, had the hardest job facing the greatest amount of wind resistance. The air coming off the leader’s flapping wings lifted the birds flying behind it. Being the leader was grueling, so the birds took turns. When a bird exhausted itself, it trailed to the back, where it wouldn’t have to flap as hard, riding waves of wind that have been broken down by others. It saved its energy so that it could lead again. This was the only way to make the journey, to escape winter and make it to warmer places.”

From “Know My Name” a memoir by Chanel Miller

I have been completely engrossed by Chanel Miller’s Memoir “Know My Name” these past few weeks. Every free moment, I have been picking up the book and settling under blankets in the quiet of my room to return to Chanel’s moving story. I have never read a memoir that captures so well the complexities, the rawness, the upheaval, the pain and the grief of trauma. As I’ve been reading her book, I’ve found myself jotting down sentences and phrases and screenshotting passages that resonate with me, including the beautiful passage above that made me think of the grief process.

Grief and loss can feel like pumping our own wings, especially in the beginning. We flap them so hard, trying to overcome resistance, trying to push through to get past the pain, pretending we’re okay when we’re not, trying to move forward. But what we often need most, and what grief and loss require, is rest and care for ourselves—because grief can be exhausting. It asks a lot from us.

But what we often need most, and what grief and loss require, is rest and care for ourselves—because grief can be exhausting. It asks a lot from us.

2020 has asked a lot from us. The pandemic, racial injustice, natural disasters, the political climate, and so many different types of losses–loved ones, jobs, connection, physical touch, safety, control, normalcy, community… We are all pumping our wings, trying to cope as best we can with this challenging time.

We are all pumping our wings, trying to cope as best we can with this challenging time.

It is common with grief to feel a landslide of emotions. Grief can also affect us mentally, physically and spiritually. Loss creates a new reality and can make us not feel like ourselves. It takes a lot of energy to adjust to so much change, which is why rest is essential.

It’s okay to take breaks, to lean on others, to let them take the lead sometimes, to say no to the things that deplete us, and yes to ourselves. Self-care is critical and necessary. Our hearts are doing a lot of work this year, and it needs our love, care and attention.

So how do we even begin to care for ourselves? Self-care may look like taking first steps such as:

  • Every day, asking yourself: what is one thing I can do to care for myself today?
  • Listening to what you need and honoring it instead of resisting it
  • Allowing yourself to feel and to express your feelings—cry, scream, laugh when you need to
  • Being gentle with yourself and not taking on too much or expecting too much of yourself
  • Reaching out to loved ones who listen, love and support you
  • Engaging in physical activity that you enjoy
  • Getting adequate sleep and maintaining a consistent sleep schedule
  • Exploring new activities that may aid in your healing such as an art class, photography, writing, virtual book club, nature hikes, meditation
  • Joining a support group or starting therapy individually to support your mental health