Let it out to Let it in

Written a few days ago . . .

This morning, I woke up feeling dark, dark, dark. Do you know that feeling where sadness builds a wall in and around you, and there’s no space for anything else? The morning sunlight and singing robins felt flat and irrelevant. How could they possibly help me through yet another fever, headache, and bout of brain fog and fatigue? What could they understand of disability applications or of safety nets with holes that seem shaped exactly to my circumstances?

It was the kind of darkness where I wished my bed would swallow me, or—at the very least—that I would be permitted to remain there indefinitely, watching Netflix. But of course, I don’t get to do that. You know, the whole single mom thing. So, I dragged my self-pitying carcass down the stairs and thought of my dear friend Jenny’s wonderful advice column, addressed to ‘Damsel in the Dark.’ (If you haven’t read it, do!)

How could I, dreary damsel that I was, respond to myself kindly and compassionately in that moment? How could I allow and accept my feelings while at the same time taking steps to soothe them? My post-it note list of self-compassionate activities includes the following: go outside, practice gentle yoga, sing, journal, sip something yummy, read, cuddle with my kids, and lie down and breathe. So I sat at the piano and played a song I recently wrote about the pain, invisibility, and possibilities of long Covid. Of course, I couldn’t make it through without breaking into sobs. But that was exactly what I needed. My wall of sadness wasn’t letting anything else in, so I needed to let the sadness out.

After making it through my sobby song (I’ve included a non-sobby rendition at the bottom of this email in case you’d like to hear it), I sat down with Mark Nepo’s “Book of Awakening,” and here’s where the pages fell open:

Such a simple secret: by letting things out, we also let things in. So if you’re cut off, in pain, estranged, numb—sing, give voice to anything. It needn’t sound pretty. Simply, bravely, open despite the difficulty, and let what is in out, and what is out in. Sing, and your life will continue.

My life in in fact continuing. I can hear the robins clearly now. “Cheerily, cheer up, cheer up, cheerily, cheer up,” they call, but there is no need because I already have. It’s not that I’m feeling peppy or exultant, but there is space in me now for a myriad of feelings. I feel grateful and sad, hopeful and uncertain, connected and calm.

We all get stuck sometimes. We all find ourselves walled off and walled in. If you’re having such a day, please treat yourself kindly. Grant yourself space to express whatever needs releasing—whether through a song, a journal entry, a phone call, a physical gesture, a painting, or a primal scream. Give yourself kindness and space, and know that you’re not alone.

How do you reconnect with light on your darkest days?

P.S. Is Corona Cafe making your life a tiny bit better? If so, please consider sharing this post or the full archives with a friend, on social media, or in your Covid-19 support group. You can also show the love with a ‘like’, a comment, a reply to this email, or by buying me a coffee below. Thank you all so much - my life is more than a tiny bit better because of all of you!

P.P.S. For those of you who are waiting around for a new yoga video, I haven’t forgotten you! I’ve been dealing with more fatigue again for the past few weeks, but I seem to be moving in the right direction and hope to record one soon. in the meantime, dig in and enjoy the archive of past videos!