Flipped Upside Down

My family called March 2020 “the decade of March.”  I can’t remember a month that dragged quite like it.  Almost a year ago, on Friday the 13th, my sixth- and ninth- graders came home from school with smiles on their faces.  Gleefully, they announced that school was closed for two weeks.   A fun and spontaneous break!  We cleared our calendars, slept in, and started school and work on-line.  Zoom, masks, and social distancing were all new words in our vocabulary and became essential parts of all of our days.  At first we didn’t even mind that we couldn’t see friends, or were limited to weekly grocery store visits.  That was until the novelty wore off.    Slowly, our sense of euphoria about the “new normal” gave way to the frustration and disappointment that have ebbed and flowed all year.

This past year has been a year of surrender, sacrifice, and growth.  I’ve been forced to shift and change.  In other words, I’ve had to grow.  Personal growth isn’t easy.   Like many, I prefer certainty.  I don’t gravitate towards situations that plop me into discomfort.  But this pandemic has reminded me that I am not divinely in charge.  This reminder is humbling. 

Through hard situations, I found new ways to cope.  When things in my life were cancelled, I adapted.  I created a way to teach childbirth classes online. My kids pivoted this summer and filled their days with local adventures instead of sleepaway camp.  I cultivated patience needed to support my kids in remote learning.  And recently, I managed to avoid contracting COVID despite my teenage son being sick.  

A year ago, I don’t think I could have ever predicted how upside-down everything could be.

In yoga, inversions are part of class.  We teach going upside-down as a way to change the blood flow as well as perspective.  Taking the metaphor off the mat, has this pandemic, which flipped my world upside-down, broadened my perspective?

What is better in my life as a result of flipping?  

Undoubtedly, my relationship with my family has strengthened.  Without a social life, I’m home. I spend a lot of time with kids.  I help my twelve-year-old daughter process the highs and lows of middle school, making sure that the inevitable dramas do not cause real traumas.    I savor time with my sixteen-year-old reminding myself in just over two years he’ll be off to college.  Gulp. My husband and I walk the dogs nearly everyday together, noticing the change of seasons, the birds, the clouds, and the sparkles of sunlight on new-fallen snow.

I’ve also strengthened my relationship with myself.  Through a quieter life, I meditate, read, listen to podcasts and spend time outside. One of the shiniest silver linings of the past year is my connection with my college friends through a video app called Marco Polo. We share details of our life day after day. I’ve never felt closer to these women than I have this year.

It’s amazing!  I am awake. I notice both the beauty and pain in the world.  The dismay I experience when I read about the health and wealth disparities in our country are balanced with the joy I feel when I help parents prepare for childbirth.  As I pray for those who are suffering, I am elevated by the hope and excitement that soon-to-be parents feel about bringing a new child into the world.

I don’t who I would be in a “busy” world today without the pandemic.  So, I can actually be grateful about the past year, while also acknowledging the global pain caused by COVID.  

What has flipped in your world this past year?  Are you holding on to what was, or are you accepting what is?

The poet Rumi wrote:  “Try not to resist the changes that come your way. Instead let life live through you. And do not worry that your life is turning upside-down. How do you know that the side you are used to is better than the one to come?”