Pop quiz: When we distill life down into very simple terms, what is illuminated?

Before the quarantine, I felt like my life was one big to do list. Every day, the list grew. I was so focused on crossing tasks out that I forgot what it felt like to have unstructured, restorative time for myself and for my family. Looking back, rushing through play time or breakfast leaves me gutted. Sure, it was out of necessity, but have I been building a life that I’m proud of?

A global pandemic forced the world to pause and put my life on hold. Real talk: it broke my brain. The collective grief of it all, the weight of it, the heaviness, sent me into panic. What would we do if one of us got sick? How are others coping with the lack of employment, mental health necessities, connecting with others when living alone? After days of spiraling and consuming way too much social media and the 24 hour news cycle, it was clear that I needed a shift in perspective. This was my chance to press reset. Simplify. What can I do immediately to deal with my anxiety? I focused on what was in front of me. I zoomed in on my immediate family. This time would be all about taking care of Penn and taking care of myself. I am resilient beyond reason. Given any sort of adversity, I eventually figure out how to thrive. This is no exception. Now, we have time to make dinner together every night. We’re all sleeping better. We’re napping. We’re exercising. We’re working on creative pursuits. We’re taking family hikes. We’re organizing our house.

We’re thriving.

I feel an immense sense of guilt saying that out loud, but this time alone with my family has illuminated parts of me that I have had to leave behind to get by. I’ve gone back to what works for me: yoga, nourishing healthy food, solitude, nature, very strict social media and news consumption limits, and a lot of emotional work. This was the way life was back west. A return to what was familiar has felt so good. My emotional, physical, mental needs are being met in ways that have not been in a long time.

My privilege directly contributes to this time being therapeutic instead of damaging. Having time off without the expectation of work while still receiving a paycheck is rare. Having a baby who loves a schedule helps me stay in somewhat of a routine. Having a baby who loves to nap 2-3 hours during the day gives me time to practice yoga, practice my French, nap, cook, watch tv, do nothing, get to know myself again and plug into what makes me better. I am extremely lucky. I know that not everyone has received this gift.

What makes this time difficult is the notion that it took a worldwide crisis to get to where I am. On a micro level, I’m just starting to make sense of what works and what doesn’t. How can this be applied nationally? Globally? I haven’t a clue, but I do know that normal wasn’t working. There will be no return to “normal.” We can’t go back. But how can we wrestle with a future that is so incredibly uncertain?

Chani Nicholas always shares incredible words for hard times. This time is no different. Three rules that I have started to practice with fervor. I encourage you to do the same.

1. Make your art. My brother always told me I was a much better artist than I thought I was. Art doesn’t have to make any sense and it doesn’t need to be perfect or beautiful. My analytical brain gets in the way of making lately. When I let go and make art as a release, it helps. If you don’t have a medium, what did you do as a kid that made you happy? What can you make a neighbor, your parents, your nieces/nephews? Origami? A hand turkey? A paper bag puppet? Friendship bracelets? Maybe you just color or doodle. It doesn’t have to mean anything. I have decided that I’m going to practice guitar again and write daily. None of it has to make sense, or sound good. Just the act of creating is therapy.

2. Take care of each other. I have found that the best way to combat depression is to focus on others that have less than I do. What can I do to support my family and friends that are struggling but also not compromising my needs as well? I’m sending notes in the mail and checking in regularly with my inner circle. If I have nothing emotionally to give but I am doing well financially, where can I donate money? If I have absolutely nothing, how can I ask for help? Politically, how can we build social programs that ensure the most vulnerable are taken care of? Now is the time to ask what we can do and then go and DO IT. Sometimes it just means taking care of ourselves and our family. That is more than enough. (<—Read that again.)

3. Risk everything for joy. Everything. Mental health is so important to take care of right now. Besides consuming foods that make you feel good (equal parts kale and chocolate?) and moving our bodies to help us wring out the stress of the day (dance, walk around the block), checking in with yourself and how you’re feeling makes a difference.

If you’re feeling stuck, starting a gratitude list is really wonderful. Besides your friends and family, what do you love? This could be fresh cut grass, the rain, simple things that you can observe that makes you smile. One of my favorites from Paul’s list was “watching someone get lost in a daydream.”

If you’re feeling confused about the future, consider a Life Audit. We do this every few years. Get out a stack of post its or several scrap pieces of paper, whatever you have that you can eventually sort into piles. On each piece of paper, write a wish or finish the prompt, “I want…” What do you want? This can be anything! I want the quarantine to end. I want to learn French. I want to fly a kite. Wish for as long as you have paper or time. Then, start sorting into categories. Learning French goes under “New Skill.” Flying a kite goes under “Hobbies.” End quarantine goes under “Social/Lifestyle.” When you’re done sorting, note where the majority of your wishes land. This helps you understand where in your life you are lacking. Optionally, you can start to work towards your goals if they’re attainable during quarantine.

Finally, a lot of emotions can come up when the world is focused on so much grief and anxiety. I worked through this doing a practice called “Descansos.” “In Latin America, they are the roadside shrines that mark the memory where an accident claimed a life.  Metaphorically we can also view them as crossroads, choice points, places where you choose one road and might have taken another.

Conducting your own ‘descansos’ is a way to document, honor, and grieve those individual deaths along the way – and leave them where they are meant to be left – in the past, honored, acknowledged, and on a road already taken in your life. These deaths can be wrong turns, lost opportunities, broken hearts, trauma or disappointment that you've experienced on your journey.” You can read more about this here.

We are all experiencing a new way to live. It can be uncomfortable when everything we used to distract ourselves from ourselves is no longer within reach. We’re forced to look at our lives up close, sometimes without a social safety net or those that we love around us. But for some of us, those with our basic needs being met, this can be a time of great awakening, tuning into what best serves us and what no longer can survive. What is sustainable and what needs to be grieved? What do you keep and what do you throw away?

Have I been building a life that I’m proud of? No. Although I have so much, an incredible partner, an equally incredible son, a wonderfully supportive family and social circle, a fulfilling career, a warm house, the list continues, I am lacking in time spent with my family and time to focus on my mental and physical health. The foundation of our lives, our wellbeing, has suffered so much that it will take more than a quarantine to repair what we have been neglecting. A patchwork of fulfilling family moments peppered in between a never ending schedule of social obligations and late work nights feels so out of balance. It’s unsustainable. It’s damaging. It’s not the life we want to lead.

What do you keep and what do you throw away?

Normal wasn’t working. Risk everything for joy.