Excerpts from a Pandemic Journal
Part I
By Christina Carney
I’ve been an intermittent journaler since I was a preteen, but when we started quarantining in March of 2020 it seemed like a good time to pick it back up. I’ve filled several journals since then, writing three pages nearly every morning. This series looks back at pieces of those journals as a way to begin processing and integrating all that’s happened over the last year. I share it because maybe you’ll find something here that resonates for you. It’s always good to know you’re not alone. It’s also an invitation; to consider how you might process and integrate your own experiences, whatever that looks like for you.
Journal Excerpt March 2020 (date not specified)
How quickly life can change. How will the Caronavirus impact us in the long run? Or will there be a long run? At this moment, I think of all of us being made of stardust. Someday, maybe we’ll all go back to stardust. Of course, virus or not, nothing is guaranteed to us. We still plan for the future and think about what will happen tomorrow.
In some ways, this feels like an absolute blessing. When have I been able to stop like this? Last year was harsh, a challenge well-met, but it took its toll. So now here I am. Able to let go of “the go.” To be gentle with myself. To be soft.
Easy to worry, so many rabbit holes to descend into. No. Unless there’s a treasure there, I’m not interested. So we’ll flow, connect and then disconnect. Reach out and reach in. Breathe out, breathe in.
It’s spring. The earth is enjoying her respite. Clearer skies, cleaner waters. Production slows and she can breathe.
Reflection March 16, 2021
I was at a training just two weeks before we began quarantining. One of the participants asked me what I thought about the virus, if I was worried. I told her I wasn’t, that if it became a problem I would figure it out then. I’ve thought about that conversation several times over the last year. Even as I look back at my journal entries from those first few days, I see how clueless I was. But really, who could grasp what we were about to face? That’s been one of the harder things to sit with this year: the unknown. And yet, somehow, it feels more honest. The illusory nature of safety and stability – outside of what we can create internally – is one of the greatest cons of civilization.
I’ve always been busy. Million miles an hour busy. Stopping long enough to catch my breath and then back at it again. It’s been strange to step out of that cycle: sometimes glorious, sometimes maddening. I’m still wondering what it will all look like on the other side of this. I don’t think I want to start that cycle again. Honestly, I don’t think I can. Those first few weeks of quarantining I was still settling into the slow down. I might have been able to pick it back up after a couple of months, but after a year? I’ve realized that’s not how I want to live. The constant anxiety, with adrenaline spikes followed by fatigue – it’s a recipe for burnout and illness, not living in joy and wellness. Chasing my accomplishments was like chasing my tail and it was never enough.
