COLOR MY SOUL: Flattening the Curve- A Vacation with a Side of Nightmare

Tiktok- therapy dog in training. Photo by Stephanie Landis

This pandemic feels like a vacation with a side of nightmare.

It's also a roller coaster of emotions. Every other minute I’m either laughing or tearing up. Some of the best dark humor is coming out of friends and family these days!

Over the weekend I was with my elderly mother-in-law to help in her recovery from rehab. While there I didn’t watch the news or even open my laptop. My days went something like this: wash my hands until my skin is raw, cook dinner, scratch my nose (argh!), wash my hands until my skin is raw, set the table, taste-test food while cooking, oops, licked my finger, wash my hands until my skin is raw, pick a piece of meat out of my tooth (argh!), wash my hands until my skin is raw, take Dorothy a glass of water, watch Wheel of Fortune....say goodnight at 9pm, wipe down all counters, knobs, and handles while Mom and Dad are sleeping while thinking, when will I learn to STOP touching my face?

All that hypervigilance lingered after I got home. I felt anxious wondering if I'm sanitizing doorknobs, water faucets, phones, remotes, counters correctly - or my hands! - enough. Plus its allergy season so every cough or sneeze seemed suspicious. Oh no, am I getting sick? Did I carry a virus to mom and dad? My therapy dog in training followed me around tilting his head and watching my every move as I wiped counters and washed my hands. He knows probably thinks I need therapy.

Today, I find myself laughing at some crazy coronavirus joke or tearing up in solidarity as friends share concerns about being on the frontlines as health care workers, or mourn life events being canceled, or react to a story of kindness or selflessness. As an introvert, I’m usually relieved at cancelations, happy to be stuck at home, but I still feel much disappointment as my upcoming author events are canceled. Tiktok’s TDI classes are canceled as well as his certification test in April. All certified therapy dogs are not allowed to work until further notice anyway. Yet there are mixed emotions – relief, disappointment, bewilderment. It’s unsettling. Our master naturalist classes will be meeting online now which brings new worries. Will our wifi be adequate? Can I figure out all this techie stuff if I can’t remember to stop touching my face?

While with the in-laws I thought I’d return home to lots of downtime and a chance to catch up on the many things that need to be done before the gardening season kicks in. I was anticipating being alone on my quiet farm in the hills of Virginia. Then I opened my social media accounts, scrolled through a stream of virtual events being scheduled so people would feel less isolated; so artisans and small business owners could keep their names in people’s minds, and not lose their livelihoods. Plus free opportunities for online participation in drumming and dancing, and viewing museums and zoos live streaming, watch authors reading to children and musicians giving virtual concerts. There were so many endearing pleas of the need for volunteers to check on neighbors, donate this and do that for the community. And offerings of help and goodwill too. Two days into our 'flattening the curve social distancing and staying home,' extroverts all over the country begged for phone calls or FaceTimes. Suddenly I'm feeling all the "shoulds.” How can I be overwhelmed and struggling with FOMO (the fear of missing out) while staying at home? Crazy!

Totally normal too, in these times. I lost my center, which is easy to do in a pandemic. Most of us will do the same from time to time, especially extroverts, and people who can’t stop touching their faces. So, we gather up all the scattered parts of ourselves, meditate, do yoga, pray, cry, scream if we need to, hold onto our beliefs and look to faith leaders for guidance, beat a drum, go for a walk, watch birds, wonder over flowers and trees fully clothed in spring. (and sneeze and cough when our allergies itch) We listen to our own inner wisdom.

I will pick a few events and bless the rest while not participating, listen to my dogs' breathing, and go for walks with my husband or daughter who is now home and applying for unemployment. Maybe I’ll deep clean the house; maybe I’ll organize some of those spaces that need attention. Maybe I’ll work on a writing project. Who knows? One day at a time.

It’s spring now; the sun is shining, the sweet pink Glory of the Snow blossoms stand proud above the still bare, brown dirt.

As Julian of Norwich (an anchoress who lived a life of solitude and contemplation) said, “All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.”

I know that saying does not make me immune to the virus. My friends and family may fall ill, there might even be deaths in my circle. Businesses have been shut down in PA - my home state - and family members have their jobs halted, their house showings canceled. Every day I pray for health care workers. Despite the worries, the inconveniences, the roller coaster, I know in my deepest center, that place where I go to 'shelter in place' as I meditate and where I live from on my best days, will always be there even when I forget to be aware. All I have to do to be centered and grounded is turn inward, reconnect to the place where I meet the Sacred Spirit, and all is calm, all is well.