I went to town yesterday. The drive takes just over an hour.
And. I noticed something.
Honestly, I am hesitant to share. It exposes a new piece of me. A piece that isn’t strong or resilient. A piece that has been hiding beneath the surface. I know I am not alone in the discovery of new discomforts. In this liminal space, we are all confronting our demons in one form or another.
Context is king. And so. Backup.
I bought a tiny off-grid home this year.
Out in the Great Big Empty.
Escrow closed on March 13th. Shelter-at-home March 18th. Okay.
For the first time in almost two years, I actually have a home. I can do that. Solid.
After 2.5 weeks of not leaving my brand new and mostly empty home for any little thing, while I prepped for my first trip into town, I felt really anxious. Like, REALLY anxious. At first I blamed it on my too-big to-do list. But, in reality, it was the first time since the world flipped upside down that I’d be around people, or in stores, or at my office. It was the first time I’d stock up on groceries, or visit the hardware store, or grab mail from my PO Box. It was the first time I’d see my parents, the ocean, Highway 101, everything that once felt so familiar.
And it didn’t feel that way that day…. Familiar.
Not at all.
Instead I felt a deep loneliness. An ache that hadn’t hit me yet at home - my tiny new home way out amidst the Carrizo Plains. When I was in there, amidst the hustle, near to everything and everyone that is and was familiar, I felt alone.
My people were there. All around me. And I couldn’t hug them.
Fast forward.
Yesterday I went to town. And what I noticed, clear as day, is this… I experience intense anxiety around the seemingly simple act of going to town. Every. Single. Time. It hasn’t gotten any better. It hasn’t gotten any easier. And I don’t know when, or if, it will.
And so I breath. Because, occasionally, let’s be real, a woman’s got to buy groceries, and haul water, and do laundry, and and and.
But why this intense anxiety? Why must we always, with the why? I don’t know. And I don’t know. So I will sit with the unknowing. I will hug the frightened little girl inside of me, who doesn’t know which way is up or down, or what her life might look like on the other side of all this. I will sit with her, and I will listen for whatever else comes up.
We are all in this strange liminal space. Together. The eye of a great storm. A highly contagious respiratory virus. Still out there. Still invisible. Still spreading. A world unfamiliar. A normal turned upside down.
This storm will not be over any time soon. I understand the Hammer and the Dance. Right now we Dance. And then. Repeat.
I’d like to be clear here. I am not seeking pity. I am not breaking into a million tiny irreparable pieces. I am not cryptically crying for help. What I am doing is finally, consciously, recognizing and giving words to the fragility I feel within my being. In hopes that sharing brings relief somehow. For me, for you, for someone I’ve never met. In hopes, as always, that there is resonance in the Collective. This is hard. All of it. What shows up for each of us will be different than the next. And it’s important to remember that our feelings, as strange & uncomfortable as they may seem, are, straight up, immensely valid and important.
I will find a way to move through my anxiety with self-compassion.
I will find a way to go gently into the world when I need to.
I will find a way to stretch and grow into the woman the Universe is calling me to be.
I can feel her in there, bubbling to the surface, stretching her wings in the weirdest of ways.
I do love who I am becoming, anxious warts and all.
I don’t know how this ends. And I guess that’s a part of it too.
Break me apart to put me back together.
We can do this.
I love you friends.
Thank you for listening.
Post-production on “Where There Once Was Water” continues in this time of otherwise-stillness. I was recently interviewed by Inge Bisconer on the The Water Zone : Ag Podcast
We chat about progress on the film, sustainable agriculture, and life in the time of Coronavirus. I think you’ll enjoy our conversation.
Take a listen HERE.
I created a resource page for all things COVID-19, and I am doing my best to keep it updated as the situation evolves. It is my gift to you, and you are welcome to share it widely.