Do you have "feeling fatigue"? I know I do. It's much more than just covid concerns, although they may well make up the major part of feeling fatigue for me or you. Everyone is different. For some, it's not being able to do what we used to call "normal". For some, it is loss and despair over the loss of someone they held dear. And, for some, it is simply fear of becoming ill. We cannot fail to recognize the added burden not only to our "frontline" workers, but also those whose economic security has been affected or whose livelihood has simply disappeared. And for most of us, these concerns add up at least somewhere in the back of our minds and definitely in our bodies.
When you add the political unrest literally all over the world, the frightening things that most of us, no matter our age, have simply never lived through the feeling jar can come very close to overflowing. My first so-called "political crisis" was a very existential one for a ten-year-old girl living in Florida knowing that missiles that could kill us all were aimed directly at where I lived. I quite literally never forgot those feelings. 60 years from now there will be adults who will have been ten or five or sixteen years old during this existential crisis and I have feelings for them as well.
For me, the most important thing for me to do is to admit (at least to myself) that feeling fatigue is very real in my heart and my body. I have been able to talk about it (a little bit) but not about how very deeply it affects my soul. Obviously, the place to start in helping heal our hearts (both physically and spiritually) is to truly understand that we are not alone. I am not suggesting that we are all in the same boat, for many have more or less holes than the one I am in, but we are all in the same ocean. What helps me most is gratitude. Certainly gratitude for everyone who is risking their own well-being to help the rest of us get through all of this, but also gratitude for the times I am reminded that there are ways I can encourage myself and heal myself (and hopefully others) throughout this time. When I can get outside, I do. When I can quietly examine the patterns that play out on the bark of a tree I do. When I can remind myself that young women like Amanda Gorman can write poetry in the midst of everything, I do. Mostly, I take great pleasure in knowing that we care for each other and reach out (virtually, of course) our loving arms to give solace where needed, comfort where we can, and love and respect for everyone's journey whether it looks like ours or not. And so it is.