...and here we are. One year later.
“Life meanders like a path through the woods. We have seasons when we flourish and seasons when the leaves fall from us, revealing our bare bones. Given time, they grow again. ”
Where does our inner strength and sense of self come from? I’ve been thinking about this question quite extensively; we’ve experienced and witnessed so much these past 12 months. Will we ever be the same? Like sociologists and psychologists have so long maintained, we’re a product of our environment, not immune to hardships and yet, capable of enduring them.
A dear friend of mind (whom I’m keeping anonymous as I promised him I would) lost both of his parents and his oldest brother many years back. It’s hard to imagine what life was like for him as a young boy and it wasn’t until recently that he’s reclaimed his life and his sense of self.
“It hasn’t been easy, Elena. I’ve come to accept that my life will never be the same again. I work on myself everyday and have come to terms that some of us are dealt some hard cards. I can’t compare myself to how others are living - I can only focus on what I can control and even though I wish I could just call my parents for their advice, I carry their principles and values with me everyday and I’m guided by the truths they instilled in me - and the ones I’ve picked up along the way,” shared my friend during one of our recent catch up calls.
We’ve spent the past few weeks chatting about life, catching up (it’s been a few years since we last saw each other), and exchanging our reflections and thoughts on what’s been going on. His experience of losing three immediate family members, and channeling his immense grief and pain into a realistic future, got me thinking; recovery doesn’t happen overnight, inner strength is built by slow and steady discoveries, and an unwavering sense of self-compassion helps us keep our feet on the ground.
I like to believe we have agency when it comes to shaping how we live our lives. Granted, we’re living through a pandemic and an incredible moment of social awakening - hard thoughts and tough experiences are being had by all. None of us are immune. Without the past 365 days, though, who would we be?
What do we stand for now?
Here’s my take.
We’re learning to stick to our boundaries without guilt. I know I’m not the only one who has said yes when I really wanted to say no. We’ve had no choice but to bow out of social events and activities. But the pressure of over analyzing whether going somewhere is ok, as an example, is too much. A friend lost her grandfather during COVID and her family made her feel bad for not going to the after-service lunch. She said no, put her kids in the car after a physically distanced church service, and home she went. She wasn’t comfortable gathering. End of story. Saying no is critical to our well-being; if we don’t, we’ll keep disappointing ourselves with a yes we’ll regret later.
We’re more accepting of our turning points. Coming to terms with change of any type is hard and it’s natural to ask “what if?”. We’ve had no choice but to accept the pain and grief brought on by our unique circumstances. We never do move on from heartbreak, but I believe we’re getting a handle on how to move forward despite our losses. The people we’ve said goodbye to will live within us - the milestone moments we want to celebrate will happen eventually. Somehow, though, we’re figuring out how to forge a new way forward by asking ourselves, “ok, what now?” instead.
We’re showing the objectivity we give to others to ourselves too. We know the words to the song - we’re our own worst critics. Research shows that 78% of us are more compassionate towards others when things go wrong - only 22% show the same level of support to ourselves (Harvard, 2020). There’s a science behind why it’s so hard to be self-compassionate: we implicitly think on negative terms, we don’t want to admit we’re fallible, and we don’t want to fail at life. However, we’re getting stronger at realizing that the ability to keep going hinges on going easy on ourselves. So the kids had take-out last week. Who cares. You asked for a reasonable extension on an assignment so you could give it the attention it deserves. Good. You spent last Sunday outdoors enjoying the fresh air and didn’t do laundry. That’s fine. Life’s demands will keep coming our way and how we speak to ourselves will continue to make it easier (not to mention more pleasant) to manage through.
We know our well-being is ours and ours alone to support. We don’t have much if we don’t have our health and well-being and it takes a daily effort to take care of ourselves. I think we’ve come to understand that no two days are the same and we don’t need to do and try everything to be our best. It’s important to find what works for us and to stick with it and remember that our well-being goals are unique. Don’t feel overwhelmed or deflated when you hear about what your friends are doing; stick to what’s right for your mind and body.
And last but not least, we’re committed to helping others find some hope too. At the start of the pandemic, I was worried that our ongoing isolation would make it harder for us to help others in need. The opposite - it was the fuel to incredible community spirit and the everyday actions we continue to take are rebuilding people’s lives. From raising awareness on social causes, canvassing for donations, dropping off food to a neighbour, or calling a friend and really listening, we’re giving people a chance to reclaim their well-being, and breathe a little easier, one connection at a time.
So what comes next? I don’t know. But what I do know is that we’re figuring out how to really acknowledge how we’re feeling, are open to sourcing out new ways to keep well, and are building up others along the way.
It was a long winter, with many dark nights and struggles, and yet, we managed to ground ourselves under our North Star, whatever it is. But like my friend (who still grieves his parents and brother as if they passed only yesterday) reminded me, our progress is never something to be forgotten and it allows us to keep going.
*And exhale*
