Community Care

For the last few months, I’ve been leaning into the phrase community care. Now, with a COVID-19 global pandemic stirring up fear and uncertainty, it’s a critical time to examine what it means to move beyond self care and into a broader sense of helping one another.

If you’re like me, logging onto Twitter multiple times a day causes your anxiety to skyrocket (Rita Wilson, Tom Hanks and Sophie Grégoire Trudeau all have the virus??!). This week, every couple of hours we faced a new coronavirus cancellation or announcement. Uncertainty is the order of the day (will schools close, should we go to this event, how much toilet paper is reasonable to buy?).

One of the biggest downsides of the internet is constant access to information, particularly when what we read or watch may not be accurate. We are all informed, but not necessarily qualified to speak knowledgeably about complex medical, economic or political issues. I’m trying to listen to actual experts in these fields instead of someone spouting opinions. I’m hoping this will keep my fear level a bit lower.

Over the last week, my panic cycle went like this: This is the end game and we’re all going to die, go stock up on food and supplies, never leave the house again, cry over our tanking investments, lose all hope. (Overall, not very pleasant or helpful.)

Thankfully, these last few days I’ve been more careful about the articles I’m reading. I’m going for more walks and looking at Twitter less. The positive side of this is slowly taking shape for me, like a Polaroid photo sharpening into focus. A global health crisis can show us the worst of humanity, but also the best. This is the opportunity for community care: for us to take care of one another.

I’ve been developing a novel about a post-patriarchy world, where capitalism as we once understood it is destroyed and something new is built in its place. Perhaps this crisis is what we need to address rampant wealth inequality and profound selfishness. Maybe it’s an opportunity to hit the refresh button on our modern lives, where busyness and status are the insubstantial goals we strive for. If we want a fairer, kinder world, the old one must disappear so that we can imagine something better.

Our world is in a true crisis. It’s definitely scary and I’m not attempting to minimize that. But stories of people helping out their neighbours who are quarantined bring me so much joy. Our reliance on technology has isolated us from true connection with one another, but now we are seeing just how much we need each other when we are facing life and death issues.

It’s a time for community care. To stay home to contain the risks of spreading this virus too fast for our medical systems to keep up with those who are sick. To change the way we look at what’s happening; to see that our response to this crisis could make our society more compassionate and equitable. The way we save lives is by working together, not by panicking and attacking one another. Community care. We all need each other to survive.

Sit With It

Are you overwhelmed by stress? Do you feel frustrated, sad, scared, hopeless or some mix of these elements? You don’t have to fix it. Try SWIT: sit with it.

It’s my new philosophy. I used to rush in so hard to every emotion, situation, relationship or problem I faced. I had the solution, dammit, and I’d make it fit no matter what.

One of the great benefits of getting older is not giving so many shits about what isn’t actually my business. And even when it is my business, I’m not God and I often can’t see the forest for the trees, so when I hurry a fix to a complicated issue, I’m making it worse instead of better.

Try it. Simply sit with what is bugging you.

Weight

Feel fat? So do I. Rather than obsessing or shaming or radically changing your diet or exercise plan, just sit with it for a little while. Allow it to be near you. Notice why it bothers you. Don’t fix it. Sit with it.

It works like meditation does: by slowing down and cutting across the mental noise we experience every day. Ever notice how much bigger and harder something seems when you are trying not to focus on it? The SWIT plan invites the worry, person, concept or problem in rather than forcing it out.

Speak gently to the areas that bother you the most. Allow your fear to come and sit with you. Offer it a place (let’s be honest, it has one anyway, and when you don’t acknowledge the terror it only takes up more of your mental space) and show it some grace and love. You don’t have to interact with it or make it disappear. Soothe it. Breathe through it until you achieve a bit of comfort with it so close to you.

This idea of sitting with what makes me uncomfortable has really moved the needle forward on my ability to love myself. It’s given me a practical way to extend care to my wounded heart. I’m working on loving my body, exactly as it is right now, thirty pounds more than I want it to be, and simply sitting with it and offering no judgement or solutions has been so freeing.

Technology

Most of us live like scared rabbits in 2017. Technology has taken over and we are held tightly in its iron fist. Turning off our digital devices requires a heroic amount of courage. Many times I fail to do what I long to do (hit the off button). I’m practicing SWIT with my technology, too. The addiction is so big – too far gone to fix it with one simple measure. Breathing, closing my eyes and inviting my dependence on my technology to be near me is enough for now.

People

When I struggle with another person, I’m trying to use the SWIT idea to bring them near. Alone, I summon them in a soft voice and tell them why I’m hurt or upset. I practice wishing them well and extending the type of care and affection I have no problem offering to those I love.

I speak in a reassuring voice, saying, “It will be all right. We’re going to make it through this.” I know that this is for me and not for them, but it helps to smooth out the rough edges in our next interaction. While I’m sitting with people who bug me, I also remember to remind myself that I’m not responsible for their side of our relationship – only mine.

When we acknowledge what frightens us, we immediately loosen its grip. Bring it slowly into the light. Break the secrecy and the shame that blooms in the dark like a fungus. Anything that hurts you, learn to sit with it until you can begin to work with it.

Baby steps are required. But strength comes when we talk openly about what matters, what injures our souls, what steals our precious time, attention and resources. I’m learning to sit with the hard stuff, without giving in to the pressure I feel to have the answers and the solutions. Anyone joining me in my mission to SWIT?