Living through the pandemic the past two years has been a rollercoaster of emotions for just about everyone. There’s no doubt that some people have taken the brunt of the burden, like front-line and essential workers. But almost everyone you talk to has experienced or is experiencing anxiety, feelings of overwhelm and being burned out.
As we unfold, as we allow and try to heal, as we look at what no longer serves us well, what matters most is how we process and mindfully move through anything that comes our way. To come back to a place of equanimity so we can make choices and decisions that feel grounded, authentic, and conscious, this is how we can do the best we can.
In my mind, no other emotion exposes my hidden truth more than anger. Anger, in all its fury, is powerful enough to turn us into something we are not, clandestine enough to hide and fester in our subconscious, and intense enough to bring explosive and destructive consequences, causing more shame, regret, pain, and grief.
You have permission. Permission to not get it right today. Permission to not be perfect. Permission to not have all the answers. Permission to grieve, for as long as you need. You have permission to accept your whole self, even the squishy, aging parts, the parts you have not forgiven, the parts you’re afraid to acknowledge or see. You have permission to do nothing for an entire day, without guilt, without feeling like you wasted time.
Why write gratitudes? Isn’t just saying thank you enough or “I’m grateful” enough?
Yes. And no. How many times have the words been so automatic it’s lost its meaning? How many times have we said “Yes I’m grateful” in our minds, but the full feeling of gratitude didn’t quite make it to our heart, body and soul. When we truly understand the benefits of gratitude, when we capture a moment as the best thing ever, right here right now, you can feel it ripple through your body and electrify your bones. Gratitude can easily become automation, perhaps even a chore, perhaps even resented.
