One Word Answer

Yesterday, I learned that the school year had officially ended.

I sat with my sons as they slowly processed what that would mean for them--no hope of seeing their friends, their loving teachers, or the routines that gave them a sense of normalcy.

I shed tears myself when I fully processed what that would mean for me--no hope of seeing my colleagues, reclaiming my identity as a professional, or the routines that made me feel human.

While yesterday marked a very clear end for those of us in education and/or those with children in school, many others have had to process other, very different ends since the beginning of this pandemic. Some have experienced the end to financial security. Others have witnessed what seems like an end to their mental stability. And so many have endured an end to the lives of loved ones.

No matter your role in this global terror, it can be assumed that you are facing a reality you never imagined, grasping for any source of normalcy and hope that you can find.

As someone who struggles to give myself permission to feel what I feel and do what I need to do during ordinary times, I've especially found myself in a mental battle in many directions:

• Feeling guilty for struggling with this when others have it so much worse

• Missing a piece of my identity without my profession, colleagues, and students

• Loving and simultaneously struggling with this time with my children

• Pushing myself into routines and then letting them go just as quickly because sometimes it just feels pointless

Before this pandemic, life had weekends and events and calendars to check. It had clear and consistent things to look forward to. Now, the only thing that differentiates the days of the week is their spelling...

Without these hopeful, future moments, we can be left feeling lost. Knowing that, at minimum, we have over a month ahead #SaferAtHome, I can't help but feel the need to take this small sense of control over time and use it to my benefit.

Rather than aiming for the day when all of this is over, what if we bit off each chunk of time as it came? What if we stopped training our minds to focus on the long-distance end and instead focus on the short-term ends that will continue to be set for us throughout this journey?

May 26th is the next "end" here in Wisconsin.The way I see it, there are three possibilities for us on that day. We can arrive at May 26th...

• Mad at the world that closures and social distancing are not ended yet.

• Disappointed that we used the past month for nothing productive or positive.

• Grateful for the positives, humbled by the struggle, and ready to focus on the next, short-term end.

I don't think it will be easy, but I want to see myself in that third option. And I know I won't get there through my normal goal setting/ to do list/ incentives, because I'm not living in my normal world. 

Instead, I'm going to focus on a word. One single word to describe how I want to feel on May 26th.

I'm not going to make an action plan, because that would inevitably make me feel guilty when I didn't make the progress I hoped for. The way I see it, if I give myself a feeling to aim for, then it's like giving myself permission to lose some battles as long as I win the war. 

Because if I've learned anything from the mindfulness gurus I've read and heard, it's that our minds are crazy powerful when we give them a direction. We don't always have to have the how in order to start working towards the what.

I intend to visualize that word, toss it on a Post-It note, and begin each day asking, "what can I do to feel _____ today?" 

How about you? How do you want to feel a month from now? 

I'm still chewing on the exact word for me, but I'm thinking one of these words will stick, and I thought they might help you find your own:

Strong      Capable      Hopeful      Calm      Humble      Grateful        Helpful      Selfless     Focused

Mindful    Fulfilled     Generous    Patient    Peaceful     Vulnerable   Faithful      Educated   Healthy

What I do know is that I'll end up picking one like Goldilocks--not too challenging and not something that I'm already feeling--a feeling I can work toward that's just right. It may sound too simple to choose a single word, but it's often the simplest of steps that start us on new and unexpected paths.

Here's to safety, self-reflection, and a singular focus,

Kristy