Can you feel it?

We are hovering.

Near the one year mark of this pandemic.

Do you remember the eeriness of last year?

I remember it felt like if I looked up, it would be grey skies and crows circling.

(Which, coincidentally, is a great visual for the inside of my mind this year, more or less.)

If you take a moment, and if you want to - can you remember anything you were feeling when news of Covid-19 arrived? Any thoughts, sensations, or feelings?

The tinny, not-quite-real feeling? That time stretched molasses & saltwater taffy endless?

The alarm bells going off, maybe at first quietly, and then with shrill abandon?

The nights we scrolled through case numbers and couldn’t sleep?

The days we distracted ourselves through, shutting our eyes to what was happening?

The ways we adapted to how quickly things changed (and in some cases, should have and yet, didn’t).

How the timeline kept morphing like a kaleidoscope zoomed up into a fun house, teetering wildly on a carousel.

And that was just the beginning. Since then, we have all been finding our way through it.

I won’t lie to you and say we’re all in it together. We might not be. People are having their own experiences in their own proximity (or lack thereof) to privilege.

But I will say - we are all finding our way.

And the thing about surviving something is, sometimes in the process of getting through it, we can’t feel it completely.

We’re busy surviving. It makes sense.

Our energy has been sent other places. Like a plant with some branches and leaves pruned.

Our baseline has changed.

We have been drawing water up from a thirsty well.

We ration texts and phone calls because we just can’t even. Even and especially when we want to connect.

We are getting through it. Which is a full time job. Which means there isn’t always time to process it.

But right now, this time we are in - one year into the pandemic - there could be more coming up for you, perhaps all of a sudden. This pocket of time, the second ring around a growing tree of the-world-changing, could be called a collective traumaversary. The anniversary of something traumatic.

It’s not uncommon for this time to be potent and sharp, or dull and achy. We might return to coping we needed last year - endless scrolling and not enough sleep, or “too much” sleep and the familiar comfort or grief of isolation. Our bodies might have a lot to say. We might feel disoriented or overwhelmed or wilted with compassion fatigue for all we have had to cradle gently for a whole year (and maybe longer) with weary arms and not a lot of places to put it. We might, and apologies that this is Not At All Poetic - be depressed.

Whatever you are noticing, whatever you are experiencing, it is so valid.

If it feels right to you, here is some space to check in. A few gentle prompts.

1. What am I noticing right now? You might take a moment to connect with your body and mind, or free write a list.
   
   

2. What do these experiences feel connected to? Is there anything that’s coming up for you that feels connected to this collective anniversary we are in right now?
   
   

3. What might I need? You might need space, understanding, support, validation, extra gentleness or rest. You deserve what you need.
   

This time can be tough. I think it’s allowed to be. We’re not doing it wrong if we’re struggling.

I hope this space to check in felt helpful. We might not all be in it together, but maybe we’re also not alone in it.

If you’d like more support getting through a traumaversary, I made a guide for you. I created Tending to Traumaversaries because I know having a deeper understanding of traumatic anniversaries and all that can arise in us can feel affirming. Because sometimes, creating a care plan can soothe our worried mind. And because, we might not have access to the fullness of support we need, but a guide that can live on your digital shelf might feel approachable and accessible. Maybe it’s not really enough, because what is Enough in the world we live in, really?- but maybe it will be Something. And what if all of these little Somethings add up, like a weaving of support that can hold us as we get through?

Sending you wishes for gentleness, and honoring however you are getting through,

♥ Jess