386 days

I have taken the pandemic with caution. I did this for my own safety, and as a human sharing this planet, to do my part to protect others. With this choice came gathering with friends only outside, not getting on a plane, and for the most part, staying put. Although for me, staying put meant getting outside alone. I had a new, endless backyard to explore in Colorado, so my year of the Pandemic included biking, solo hikes, and longer walks with Hank, always masking when others were nearby.

I have to believe that the timing of all of this may have been more than just okay for me. Another gift in the shadows.

On May 22, 2019, I began a period of mourning. While I wasn’t actually sitting still, I was living in the present, most moments of most days. It felt like all I could do. My choice was to go within myself and figure it out. I didn’t read a guide about grief that told me what to do. I never had a plan. I just followed my instinct. I followed my broken heart. Thinking back on this time, I know I did the right thing for me. And there is nothing I would change during those first 10 months or mourning. But then…

On March 13, 2020, everything changed again. And honestly, it rattled me. Over the prior year, I had developed a belief that, because of the loss I had so recently experienced, nothing else could hurt me.  I had intentionally made myself vulnerable so that I could take every part of this heartbreak and still feel alive. I felt strong and invincible, and yet, here I was suddenly feeling the earth shake beneath me by the swift changes occurring due to this virus. It made me very uncomfortable. I felt weak, scared and overwhelmed. And the worst part is, I realized I could be hurt again. My grief counselor gently reminded me…”You have been building your grief muscle and you are strong enough to see you are facing something new that is out of your control. Remember that grief was new to you just like this is. It takes time to learn about it, this new forest you are walking in, and that is all to be expected.”

So here it was, another opportunity to become a greater version of myself while still in the midst of the last one. Thank you, Universe?

Now, I get to look back on these most recent twelve months. I am realizing that this year, also not what I would have chosen, has been one, that in many ways, I would not change.  Of course, I would eradicate COVID and all of the other horrific things that happened during this time, but for me, my life and how I spent it, I don’t think I would change a thing. I had my share of inconveniences and disappointments, but they were just that.

It all makes me realize that for the last two years, I have been a student of living in the present. There is an immense amount of learning that occurs there. It was difficult to lay many plans in my first year of grief, and that impossibility continued during the pandemic. What did next week or next month hold for me? I didn’t know. So, I stayed mindful of the moment I was in. It’s a reminder to work with what you have.

A few weeks ago, I finally got on a plane. I went 386 days without flying. For me there has never been a longer stretch; not since the time between my first flight at age sixteen and my second at age eighteen.

Although I was not yet vaccinated, based on the data, the risk had decreased enough, that I felt for me it was time. However, as much as I love to travel and get somewhere fast, I did have anxiety about pulling it off. I took extra precautions. And waiting for me on the other side of that flight was also a meeting with nine strangers for a three-day backpacking trip.

This entry back into a world of movement, flying, and socializing with people that I didn’t know seemed monumental for me. But to be perfectly honest, once I was in it, I was a lot more comfortable than I had imagined I would be.

I know I made the right choice to take this trip. I also am glad that each of the nine people in the group took the same opportunity. I will remember them and our experience as an important part of getting back into life with others after this year of pandemic, the 386 days of staying put, and the twenty-two months of mourning. The people that I met, the challenges that I faced, and the grandeur of the Superstition mountains are now a part of my own journey forward. Bring on the next 386 days.