Now that the one-year anniversary of COVID has arrived, I feel myself trying to make sense of it all. What have I learned this year? How have I changed? What do I still need to process? What do I wish to let go of? These are good questions--and I encourage all of us, as we have the bandwidth, to take some time to slow down and give ourselves time to honor the fact that it has in fact been a full year since all of this began. But I also want to caution us about trying to wrap this year up in a neat bow where everything makes sense, has its place, and can be understood.
At my church on Sunday, we took time to share the many things this year has been a season/time of. A few of the responses that stayed with me were that this year has been a time: to watch a six-season Netflix show through; to meet myself; to go on long walks; to worry; to be overwhelmed; to hope; to grow; to grieve; to rest; to start surprising new relationships; to reform connections; to find comfort in nature; to experience Zoom fatigue; to grapple with injustice; to feel lonely; to realize we need community—and more.
Everyone’s responses reminded me that it's ok to not try to make everything fit neatly together. This year has held a lot for each of us. And the truth is, the “year,” isn’t over yet and we are all still trying to make our way through in the midst of it all. So, what are we to do?
I don’t have all the answers, but I want to offer you a poem a good friend offered me in the early days of COVID that continues to speak to me. Maybe it will resonate with you too?
You do not have to be a butterfly
everyday;
some days
you can be a cocoon
Pull your knees to your chest
wrap your arms around your legs
bow down your head
tuck your chin
and cocoon;
you can be ferocious tomorrow,
butterfly. - "Cocoon," Fr. Teri Harroun