I wasn’t sure how to begin this blog post. I’ve been reflecting, worrying, meditating on, curious about, and ignoring a lot with regards to the flurry of what seems to be quite present all over the world: COVID-19.

As we access the world 24/7 these days, and in part due to increased technologies & social media, there is a boost of expectation to the phenomena of immediate gratification. The “being in the know” kind of expectation. Since it’s a claimed pandemic at this point, the Coronavirus naturally stirs up many feelings and situations for everybody in our schools, at our jobs, and in our shared humanity.

One of the most interesting and viable pieces of information I have found with this so far: slow down. How fitting, no? Consider an alternative to the chaos. In yoga, we may refer to this idea of cultivating the opposite as pratipaksha-bhavana. It derives out of Patanjali’s Sutras; as adverse thoughts (in Sanskrit referenced as vikalpa) enter our mind, can we pause and make room to observe them, rather than A) jump to conclusion, B) jump to changing them, or C) eradicate them outright without witnessing their impact.

The more we breathe, extend compassion, or tap into the energy of our systems with intention, things such as frenetic worry, anxiety, heart rate, speech, and body movements actually reduce. They lessen their intensity as we ‘simply’ draw awareness to them. A slower system can be a stronger system.

So, I began to absorb this idea, and note the kind of proximity to others we’re being encouraged to take. “Find social distance,” they say. Though isn’t it ironical that the increased individualistic nature of our population and work seems to be leading to scarcity in supplies? A sort of ‘fend-for-yourself’ attitude present at neighborhood pharmacies and grocery stores? Have a toilet paper stockpile? Someone you know might. And what of it? Are we not willing to share? Are we not willing to bridge the gap in community by staying in touch?

Physical distance with medical illness transmittable through coughs and sneezes of course necessitates some distance, yes. But lest we forget that the separation of how we are feeling in the process by isolating from each other might be more unnerving. Can you call your friends and check in with them? Can you text a loved one and let them know you’re safe? Can you be mindful of how you interact at work and take precautions with kindness?

This brings me to the kerning process. Kerning refers to the literal spacing in typography, between letters and words in print, to elicit a visually pleasing experience. There’s a graphic, artistic kind of nature to it. As you’ve read from me before, I do not proclaim to be a true writer, and I didn’t know what this was until recently. However I knew that I wanted to express an acknowledgment of how our increased panic is closing in on opportunities for peace. Sensing how the news is splitting us, might we inhale, wash our hands, exhale and rest in between? Can we afford ourselves the grace of availability with awareness?

In my own vacillation here, I am trying to recognize the space. I plan to move forward with it, trying to identify and make room in my chest, my breaths, my thoughts. Like we’ve explored together: take what you need, leave the rest. If you find shoulders up by your ears, receive a full round of breath and visualize a kind of soft movement downward. Roll your head side to side nice and slowly. Feel free to do this with eyes open or closed.

We may not have much control in this (as with actually anything), but know that you’re not alone.

In and out.
In and out.
In and out.