It happened.
I broke. Yesterday, I broke.
I cried hard for everything that I hadn’t been allowing myself to feel the last couple of weeks.
I realised I hadn't been giving myself the grace and space for ‘AND, BUT’ in my own life.
I’d been giving allllllll the space to gratitude but no space for grief.
The last two weeks I (maybe like you, too) was fueled by the things I needed to do and I hadn’t realised how much the loss of normal had swallowed me.
Somewhere along the way I’d shoved aside the pain I was feeling because the sky is blue, the sun is shining, I have food and a bed to sleep in.
Space for the grief of our wedding being canceled, the economic worry, the state of the world was pushed aside because—gratitude, right?!
Pain and privilege.
Grief and gratitude.
I, you—we as a collective are deserving of both those things; of feeling the spectrum of both those things.
Brene Brown said ‘we can piss and moan and still have perspective.’
We are humans. You may have many roles in your life but above all, you are a human. The other humans in your life might be looking to you for what to do or to hold things together, but you can only do that for others when you allow yourself to do that for yourself.
I’ve let some anchors slip. I’m circling back to what I know. Nothing new, nothing fancy, just the reliable anchors that had got lost in the mess.
Phone free for the first 30 minutes of the day and 30 minutes before bed.
5 minutes of meditation in the morning.
Continuing my journaling at the end of the day.
Movement—always.
Something I’ve also learnt over the last couple of days is by the end of this isolation period I am going to have calves like tree trunks from the upsurge of running and double unders—anyone else?
P.S If you’re finding that you’re also lost in the mess and needing structure to bridge the gap between being at home and being in the gym, head here to register interest for TBC: DIY Out of Gym Edition.
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