Since we left off almost two years ago, my son has become a rising second grader (talk about time flying!), I started a new job, my son was diagnosed with ADHD (a post in itself!), I made it halfway through my graduate coursework, and we've encountered too many unprecedented times in our lives than we wanted to take on, the most recent being the COVID-19 pandemic.
Of all the things that have changed our lives, be it for better or for worse, COVID is the thing that has affected everyone, regardless of their age, gender, race, ethnicity, orientation, or any other aspect that sets us apart from each other. The pandemic has shown us that, above all other things, we're human first. And concurrent BLM protests have shown that despite this fact, we still have a long way to go (another post in itself!).
It's drastically changed how we go about our day-to-day: many, like myself, have been working from home since mid-March when things really started ramping up. Still more of us finished out our children's school from home and anticipate at least starting next year in a similar way. And if you thought there'd be a daily routine to go along this new normal, ha... have I got news for you!
One thing that, at least for me, has changed for the better is the ability to take online yoga classes with my favorite yogi and spiritual guide of all time, Jessie Kates of SHIFT Yoga. (And before I go any further, since her classes are online, that means you can take them, too, so... you know, GO DO THAT. I'll see you on the mat!) Jessie's classes are like nothing I've ever experienced before: she's raw and authentic, takes the time spent flowing to explore the crevices of your conscious and subconscious, focuses on juiciness and melting into poses and really honoring your body for the incredible things it can do.
Her classes are like movement therapy for me. Flowing with her has taught me to be more open and forgiving, more willing to try new things, and probably most importantly, more able to work through difficult feelings and emotions as sweat falls from my forehead to the mat below. Monday night was definitely one of those nights; the class wasn't intense from a sweat standpoint--Yin is known for getting into the tissues rather than focusing on muscle--but it managed to dig pretty deep.
Jessie's honesty about her own life can prove inspirational even when you don't think yours is in a rut. That night, she shared she was going through some really difficult times without giving specifics, just enough to show that digging into neglected areas of our bodies was just as much for her as it was for us. I was lying on my mat, kind of struggling to get settled since my SI joint is still acting up (yet another post for another day), listening to her words ripple over me like river water over smooth stones, when I realized...
I love Jessie.
I mean, I care about her, of course, and I've missed the hell out of her, but it goes far deeper than that. Hearing her talk about her struggles with the pandemic, with life as we know it now, with her family and their own difficult time managing this new reality, my heart started to ache, that familiar ache you get when someone vital in your life bares their soul to you, completely unencumbered and shamelessly.
But I've yet to tell her. In fact, lying on that mat, my eyes slowly opened as the realization dawned on me: I haven't told a lot of my friends that I love them, even though I truly do. Why hold back on something like that, something so breathtaking and heartwarming and truly authentic as love?
Ancient Greeks (and maybe current Greeks, I'm not sure... it's all Greek to me... /terriblepun) had at least six words to describe love: Eros, or sexual passion; Philia, or deep friendship; Ludus, or playful love; Pragma, or longstanding love; Philautia, or self-love; and Agape, or selfless love. Some of these, like eros or ludus, are easier to come by. Others, like philautia or pragma, take some personal work and deeper introspection.
Being separated from people has taught me how much love I have in my life on a daily basis, not just from my partner or my son--and this quarantine has taught me how much of that love I've missed out on when we're at work or school, so I'm grateful for these times and for that love!--but from the family cultivated over the weeks and years I've known people. It's also shown me just how much of that selfless love there is to go around.
It's hard to see that when you're forced apart from people or when you see the turmoil going on around the world. But if it weren't for this circumstance, who knows when I would have "seen" Jessie next and feel that philia all over again. Who knew we'd be sharing agape by offering to grocery shop for the elderly or donning masks whenever we leave our homes or taking to the streets to protest police brutality. Those are all acts of love.
If anything, this has all taught me how to appreciate the love I have in my life and the myriad ways it presents itself... and it's shown me how important it is to tell those in my life that I love them. It's such a painful, visceral ache felt in the pit of my stomach to miss out on that love. I can't even imagine if I could never feel it again.
So it's time to tell Jessie that I love her. It's time to tell all my friends I love them. And it's time to make that a normal, everyday thing: to express and embody a feeling so warm, so enveloping, so capable of lifting great loads off shoulders and soothe broken hearts, even if only temporarily, before it's too late.
He sleeps in a room painted with yellow (or "golden") and sparkle paints. His nightlights are a pink lava lamp with gold glitter and a rainbow projector across his ceiling. The blanket that keeps him warm boldly carries all the colors of the rainbow, and he repeats them with a Rain Man-like vigor like he does everything else in his favorite color: "Red-orange-yellow-green-blue-purple!"
