Hello,

I’ve been thinking of you, and wanted to reach out and touch someone, anyone! 😄

I not only miss seeing you, I really miss the hugs, the deep conversations, and sharing our practice space.

Since I began teaching online, I’m noticing how much I miss receiving the non-verbal communication from my students. The communication that can only happen between us, in the container of the classroom setting.

Speaking without words is so powerful.

 

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I hope you and your loved ones are healthy and safely sheltered.

These are extraordinary times, and though crazy, I’m finding deep comfort everyday, knowing that we’re navigating this as a global community.

I don’t believe this has ever happened in the history of time, and we are managing as best we can, together.

You are not alone, and I am not alone.

We’re all riding waves of uncertainty, fear, anxiety, anger, joy, contentment, and panic. I’m sure you’ve felt all these emotions at some point.

I’m grateful I can continue to teach and connect online, and I’m also thankful for the extra time to be home and reflect upon this experience. It feels SO big.

 

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It’s impossible to ignore the grim details.

There’s so much suffering, illness, economic loss, and societal reshuffling.

Everything we’ve known as normal has changed or disappeared.

It’s equally impossible to ignore the other side of this experience, which I’m calling The Pandemic Portal.

In the midst of this mandatory full pause, we’re ripe for so many things.

What are you shedding and bringing forth during this metamorphosis?

 

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I’ve been thinking about how this virus attacks the lungs and impacts our breath, and how it didn’t just appear out of nowhere.

Over the last year, as a collective we’ve experienced devastating fires in Los Angeles, the vaping crisis in teens and adults, and the burning of the Amazon, literally dubbed “the lungs of the earth.”

In Traditional Chinese Medicine, the lungs are referred to as “the office of minister and chancellor,” because they’re the most important organ next to the heart, “the supreme sovereign.”

Of course, the lungs have a large capacity for breath.

When I think of them and try to visualize their delicate tissue, and their ability to contract and expand, I imagine they’re like the bellows I use to stoke the fire at my house upstate.

The inner structure of the lungs and bronchial tubes look like branches of an inverted tree, with a complex root system.

 

It’s said that the lungs are associated with sadness and grief, and they’re also connected to the bright quality of clear thinking, our receptivity to new ideas, and our ability to communicate with each other.

Through one lens I ask myself…

Could this pandemic be a message from Mother Earth?

Is she asking us to look at ourselves more deeply?

To decide what life may look like in the future? To redefine “normal”?

 

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Personally, I don’t think it’s possible to go back to our old “normal” after this virus disappears.

Too much has been revealed and acknowledged about our society, culture, and vulnerability as human beings.

This isn’t a bad thing – I believe the new “normal” will be infused with more connection, community, and humility.

We cannot overcome this through power and might. We cannot run away.

We cannot avoid the presence of this virus. And we cannot ignore our interconnection and interdependence.

We need each other, and this is a calling to connect more deeply than ever before, regardless of space and time.

All of this points to new territory – to our utter groundlessness and uncertainty in life, and what a beautiful thing that is.

Embracing uncertainty is no doubt challenging.

Paradoxically, I’ve found that resting in the unknown feels much more spacious than struggling to find certainty – certainty that doesn’t exist at the moment.

 

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When I think I know something, I automatically feel a subtle shutting down.

Paper walls appear around me.

This blocks my inquisition, and shuts down the space of possibility.

I’m finding that making peace with NOT knowing what’s going to happen fills me with a sense of optimism.

An opportunity to see a glimmer of hope.

Not knowing is a gateway to the mysteries of life.

Not knowing sparks a playful curiosity.

A chance to ask, what if?

My wish for you is to be safe and well.
For your family to be safe and well.
For you to feel loved and supported during this time.
And to feel moments of ease amongst the chaos.

Where are you finding peace and spaciousness among all this?

Leave a comment blow – I’d love to discuss with you.

Love,
Michele