Tag: selfcare

The weight of personal choice

This week has had some of the hottest, most uncomfortable temperatures this year. The humidity and the high temperature are often combined to produce a “comfort index”, so when the weather forecast starts sharing this indicator, you know the day ahead will be a long, hot one. Today was one of my “dedicated” work days in the office, so the heat made the morning rush hour commute even less appealing. Nevertheless, I remain grateful to still have a job and try not to focus on the pandemic chaos around me. In a time where many are still suffering, I have tried to make my midlife simple, streamlined, and supported with moments of self care.

My job has been one of the constants in my life these past 18 months, and in uncertain times, feeling like I have control over something worthwhile each week gives me a fortunate touchstone some have lost. What I find confusing is that while 2020 seemed filled with worry about our very health and safety, 2021 is filled with debate on how to safeguard it. The ongoing, online arguments about personal choice and the feeling of “can’t we all just get along” have divided my family and friends like politics never could. The deep seated resentment against the call to vaccinate brings to the surface perspectives on basic personal truths that have shaped how my loved ones choose to live their lives. I struggle to keep the ugly debate at bay. In 2020, where I went to bed each night hoping for a solution to Covid19, I now slumber in 2021 with the worry that my family will be affected by the myriad of Covid variants. I want to remain grounded and mindful in my midlife, focused on the “now”, but I worry I may survive my children. I fear the potential sickness of my grandchildren and others who are still learning about both personal and social responsibility. But with the silently running undercurrent of dread, my mental health has almost reached DefCon One.

So it is at this stage where I began the day, on my commute to work. As the traffic signs indicated that stand still traffic was ahead, I expected a delay. What I did not plan was this: a frantic, mama dog running along the shoulder of the highway, tongue out and panting heavy. White with an occasional black patch of fur, this dog was attempting run out into multilane, rush hour traffic, trying to get to some place safe. Only focused on her survival, she ignored me and the multiple commuters who were driving at a crawl next to her, trying to keep her from darting into an oncoming car. We all soon stopped on the shoulder, bribing her with treats and opening our car doors to entice her to safety. Our attempts were met with frenzied barking as our group of would be rescuers wondered what more they could do. We’d offered her treats, the authorities were asked to help, and we’d been struggling within our ability to keep her safe. In the end, driven by her fear, she continued running forward – as though with blinders on – hoping to get to some place ahead where she could rest. In the end, I could do no more and drove away, surprisingly filled with anger at the dog for where she’d chosen to run and put her life in danger.

I’d no more turned off my flashers when I started to cry. My anger had turned to anguish, in that I saw what the likely outcome would be but helpless to do anything about it. The weight of my choice to withdraw did not change my feeling of responsibility. The weight of one’s personal choice on others does not lighten the feeling of desperation in times of danger. For many, onset of the pandemic brought families closer together, highlighting the personal choice to value family and safety above all else. Now, the choice to vaccinate is highlighting the personal choice to be an individual, separate from the weight of responsibility that is placed on others. I hope it is soon that we all stop running out of fear and stop to see the others who are carrying the load who might be there to help.

One step forward, two steps…

In a time where movement is restricted and crowds are the new social evil, these days are filled with work and family. I keep busy and tend to the here and now but once the day is done I try to find quiet time that calms my mind. Being at home this much is not normal for me, and I’ve become restless. I’ve become sedentary and still and I don’t like it.

As I approached my midlife, I developed a new found appreciation of household freedom. Things were more in order. I didn’t feel obligated to maintain the same meal schedule as when my kids were home. I enthusiastically dispelled the sense of responsibility I overcultivated as a young mother and enjoyed the ability to stay up late, see friends on a whim, and not cook to please everyone in the house. These BP times (Before Pandemic) supported a more “free to be me” exploration. But not any more. As we have shut our doors, wear our masks and stay close to home, everyone has had to make changes. I now have family who have returned to the nest, as the struggle continues to adapt to our new normal.

I admit, this opportunity to focus on the present and remain healthy and happy has been a blessing. I am working to be more attentive to my relationships. I attend to my self care. I try (but not as successfully) to be more active. The fact that I now assess the quality of my day by the readout of my sleep and steps has shifted me into a new paradigm. For most of us, this pandemic has introduced too many plates to juggle. The perspective I hold on my daily living is now rooted from my home base and how I must pivot to adjust to each new challenge. Pivot has become the new word for me. The discovery of my ability to pivot has strengthened me. It is not just the steps forward I take each day but how I respond to the daily events of the world.

Strangely enough, I find a renewed sense of purpose in this perspective on life. Maybe I’ve been too focused on moving forward, moving fast, moving ahead and beyond this craziness. It’s not sufficient to keep up. Maybe my athletic prowess needs work, as I “dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge”. In fact, demonstrating the best possible pivot might better be served from my preteen fashion modeling class. Each step forward gets you the end of the runway, but your pivot is what shows you off to the most people in the room. So as 2020 has brought me to the edge of my personal runway, here’s to the pivot showing off my best possible self to 2021.