Feeling Low?

 

Acknowledge Sadness

“Many [people] today feel a sadness we cannot name. Though we accomplish much of what we set out to do, we sense that something is missing in our lives…”

Emily Hancock (in Simple Abundance by Sarah Ban Breathnach, Warner Books, 1995)

          In the “courtyard coffee klatch” yesterday, we talked about how dull we feel, a little depressed and listless. We are all having trouble getting going in the mornings, as well as difficulty staying focused long enough to get a job done. Even folks like me, who normally hit the ground running, are feeling slow and subdued. Some of that is winter light, cold days that keep us inside most of the time, and the knowledge that we have still months to go before there will be any sense of normalcy. A lot of it comes from the trauma of the past year—both in terms of the pandemic and in terms of our political climate. We are exhausted—everyone is exhausted, and while we keep saying we can see the light at the end of the tunnel, we still don’t know how far away it is. Almost all of us have lost friends or loved ones to Covid, and we still have not properly grieved. So we are holding the sadness inside until we have an opportunity to enact the normal rituals of loss.

          Some of it, too, is simple existential sadness. Our world is in a dark place right now. We may not be aware of all that is going on, but because we are all energetically connected—strands in the same web—we feel it psychically. We feel the sadness in our souls even if we cannot put a name to it or explain it rationally. It feels personal and impersonal at the same time. It is both within and without. And, hopefully, it is temporary.

          There is no solution to this but to endure. We must support one another until it passes. The zoom meetings, outdoor “small-pod” gatherings, phone conversations, any human contact that we have helps. We are missing the normal touch routines like hugging and kissing friends—even handshakes are not allowed. I had an appointment with a Physical Therapist yesterday and she spoke about how her work allows her to get her “touch needs met,” and that most of the people she sees are suffering from lack of it. We are mammals, after all. For us, touch is essential to health.

          Today, remember that this sadness and listlessness will pass. It helps to get outside if you can and soak up some sunlight. Call a friend, take a walk, and make eye-contact with your neighbors. Snuggle with pets. We will get through this, and when we are on the other side, there will be time for proper grief and, thankfully, for proper joy, as well.

                                                  In the Spirit,

                                                  Jane