I’m not okay. And I don’t know if I will be okay. Is that okay?
I am going to declare: yes. Because I know that I’m far from the only one who’s not even remotely okay right now — and 400,000 are dead from Covid in this nation alone, a week after a deadly riot/insurrection/Capitol siege, a staggering number and horrific event that are wholly traumatizing.
No, I don’t know what’s next on any level. Yes, I’m deeply concerned for my personal and our collective futures. No, I’m not finding the right words to express what’s in my head or heart. Yes, I’m living in a bit of denial, which perhaps is needed. No, I’m not getting anything done. Yes, I’m letting masses of emails and texts pile up unanswered (sorry?). No, I’m not making plans or certain on much at all. Yes, my emotions are a definite rollercoaster. No, I'm not thriving amid the turmoil. Yes, I miss human contact and community and stability and adventure and a life I lived and loved.
But I have my life. I have shelter. I have freedom. I have safety, as much as any of us do in these thoroughly insane and acutely dangerous times. I have many many blessings.
Each of our presents is impossibly hard, for a myriad of reasons others don’t know and may never understand. But smiles still happen, as do small joys, little accomplishments, bursts of laughter, snippets of happiness, and glimpses of a better time. For that, I have gratitude.
While I have not lost hope — and do believe in new dawns and the power of people and changes in the tide and, yes, miracles — as monumental and welcome as tomorrow is, it will not bring some magical, instant transformation that eradicates suffering, hardship and grief. These are long, dark, challenging, unknown roads that we walk individually and together. I am accepting that. I am honoring that. I am surrendering to that.
So be kind to yourself, to loved ones, to strangers. Because right now, it’s very okay to not be okay.