I have not been writing, except a bit in my journal. Even then, I pick up a pen and have few words to describe the strangeness of my feelings.
After all, I’ve never lived through a pandemic before. Notice I wrote LIVED. Still alive. Still uncertain.
I have lived through and witnessed social disparity and racial injustice. Notice I wrote THROUGH, as though those of us who lived through the 60s saw its end. No, we are still on this journey. I’ve never before owned up to my white privilege. I’m working on it. Reading more, learning more. Being and doing better.
I’ve never worn a mask before, except when I was ill, waiting for urgent care. Pre-pandemic, masks were so strange — yet most of us have a adapted. Grabbing a mask on the way out the door (color coordinated or generic) and wearing it in public is the new normal.
We’ve managed to get through the uncertainty of a divisive political campaign with 50 days to go until the inauguration of our new president.
More and more, normalizing uncertainty, new ways of being and doing — leaning in.
Even as I write these words, I sense it will be obsolete before you read it. Does it have to be certain? It’s only this moment in time. The idea that anything is/was ever certain is my biggest rumble of the last 7+ months. Remember the expression, “You know how to make God laugh?…”
And still we plan. I plan. It’s part of our humanness. In reflection, I’ve had nearly as many plans FAIL as come to fruition. Maybe more! The college I wanted — didn’t happen. The high school sweetheart who was to be my life partner — dashed. The vacation(s) — cancelled. The successful medical treatment — first one failed. The marriage to my son’s father — ended. The healing of wounded relationships — still hopeful. The workshops — ugh. All plans based on intuition, love, hopes, dreams, expectations…
God, Goddess, The Universe, Fates, had other plans.
Leaning in, having faith, that whether the plan is a go or has to be scrapped or amended, it’s all okay. I’m okay. I can hold the space for whatever is meant to be within the uncertainty of the moment.
Many plans for 2020 were made well before the pandemic hit. Some had to be cancelled without question, though disappointing. Others waited. And waited. And waited. In the case of the “live, in person” workshops and retreat scheduled for the summer, we waited until the very last moment. We were all hanging on, hopeful, holding space within the uncertainty. https://wiawaka.org/
The workshops and Rising Strong™ Retreat happened. Not the way they were planned. We were fewer and thrived. We wore masks and survived. We were extra careful before we met to be sure we were as healthy as possible. We took good care of ourselves and our sisters throughout our time together. We leaned in and held uncertainty as our model of success.
Let’s dream. Let’s grow our dreams. Think big. Plan. Be uncertain. Whatever happens, plans dashed, thrashed, downsized or not-how-I-thought-it-would-look, Goddess willing, we’ll have a story to tell to our grandchildren.
Stay safe. Stay strong.