I’m sure I am not alone in feeling like I have had a lot more time for thinking and reflection lately. In the midst of COVID-19 and having to isolate and social distance, there have been many more quiet moments filling my days than usual. And on top of that, crises that threaten this many lives in this many ways tend to make us reflective. We think about how we got here and what we could have done differently, and we can’t help but think about our lives before, dream about the days to come when we won’t have to be inside all the time, and wonder about how different things will be or won’t be and in what ways. The pause button has been pressed, and your brain can’t help but take advantage of the suddenly free space it finds filling it where work and extra curriculars and social engagements were before.
I am grateful for the recent quiet, because I know for many people, such as frontline responders, this crisis has turned the volume way up. It’s been a really hard time for so many people; this isn’t something that you need me to tell you. So many lives have been affected in so many different ways. Normalcy has been interrupted, trips have been cancelled, performances have been put on hold, jobs have vanished, learning has been paused, families have been separated, and of course lives have been lost completely. It seems endless, the number of ways life has been made harder by this.
And this is far from the first time lives have been upended. It certainly won’t be the last. Perhaps it’s the first time in a long time that so many lives have been affected by one ever-changing event, but in their history, everyone has their own personal equivalents to a global pandemic, those events that feel like they have taken over and forever changed the landscape of our life. Life sometimes feels like it’s just one difficult hurdle after another.
I don’t know what happens when we die; some people are very sure, but I’m not, and so it’s something I wonder about pretty often, particularly since my diagnosis. During one of the many recent quiet moments, I was reflecting on life and how unpredictable, crazy, and difficult it can be. I thought about the flipside of living and wondered what I would say if I was asked on the other side whether I wanted to come back again. My first thought was no, that this was hard, too hard. This time was enough.
But then I remembered all the joy, the excitement, the happiness, the love. I thought about the people in my life that are the most important to me and how incredible they make life. I thought about the beauty of this world and how awe-inspiring it is to experience. I thought about everything to come in my life that I haven’t experienced yet and how much joy those things will bring me. I thought about my passions and my dreams and how much fun they have been to chase so far. Yes, I have had incredible darkness in my life – more than many people my age – but I have also had astonishing, astounding, amazing light. And so yes, I think I would choose to come back.
I’ve talked before about the theta healer I went to see as part of my healing process. Many people will find it a little (or a lot) woo-woo, but she basically helps people acknowledge and release negative emotions and energy. In that session, she told me that we live multiple lives, that we feel loss and pain and anger and still choose to come back and do it over and over. Because that’s life. That’s living. That is the dichotomy of existence. It hurts and it’s hard, but it’s also so, so good.
Whether you believe what she does or not is beside the point. The point is that the good in life makes the hard stuff worth it. The grief and sadness and hurt in our lives are the price we pay for getting to experience the moments of joy and happiness and love. And it’s a price I would pay over again.
So, in your moments of darkness, such as the one we are going through now, hold onto the times of light. Know that you will stand in their warmth again and that they will be made all the more welcoming by the chill you are leaving behind.
Happy Healing ❤️