Five Spring Intentions // Quarantine Edition
"Wait, you’re kidding," Elliott looks at me skeptically, his eyes squint in disbelief, like the time I tried to explain the tooth fairy. "You mean, no school at all? Like, Caroline will be home all day?"
"Yes, we all will. There are many people getting sick, people who aren’t as strong and healthy as we are, so in order to keep others safe and not spread germs, everyone is staying home for a few weeks while doctors help those who are sick."
It’s a very serious conversation I didn’t expect to have on this Sunday morning. Scratch that—one I didn’t expect to have ever. I saw the news for a few weeks now, stories of coronavirus and threats of a pandemic. But it felt so far away, physically and possibly.
Not now. Now it feels very near.
I woke up feeling as if someone threw me into a fast moving stream towards a waterfall and I am grasping on to whatever I can find to hold me back from falling down the drop off into a pool of deep water. I cling to stories of positivity, words of encouragement, the tiny parts I can control. This is how I always deal with uncertainty—I burry it deep. Those memes with the person sitting in a burning house saying "this is fine. I am fine"—that is me. But the anxiety is strong, it always is. No matter the hope on to which I cling, I know I am going down those falls. And I don’t know what to expect from the icy cold water at the bottom.
I don’t tell them any of this. I only tell them the facts. Or, maybe I only repeat them out loud because it is all I want to listen to right now. School is closed. We are not leaving the house. I keep the rest without answers hidden deep inside.
I wonder what they will think of this. Will they be scared? Will they be sad? Not seeing their friends or going to their activities for weeks, likely more—what a disappointment to children who look forward to life of adventure. Not to mention how scary it must sound to hear about sickness out in the world. I brace myself for their fears.
Their two faces turn to each other, first blank, as if curious if they are alone in their thoughts. But they don’t hold back their smiles for long. Two wide grins spread across both of their faces.
"Hurray! It’s like a mini-summer!"
"Caroline will be home all day! Yippee!"
This was unexpected. Did they hear me wrong? In my exhaustion did I use the wrong words? Maybe instead of saying school was canceled I said "Let’s go get ice cream!" What a horrible misuse of words.
But then they start scheming ideas with one another—block cities to build, games they want to make, visions of "Ooh mom, can we make cookies?"
The thing about children is they are not just disgusting spreaders of germs, they are spreaders of emotions too. This means that when they are sad or scared or frustrated, I feel it too, deep, often stronger because my body is dealing with their emotional whiplash. But it also means that when they are happy, joyful, enthusiastic, I catch that too.
So, in this moment, I let them lead me. They see this as a bonus summer, then I guess I will too.
***
As I write this today, it is the first day of spring. I had planned to enter into each season this year addressing my Words of the Year for 2020, similarly to my checkins from 2019.
As a reminder, this year I chose NOW and BREATHE.
I am a bit haunted by the forecasting these words have on my current state.
NOW. noun.
1. at the present time or moment.
2. different from other times.
3. existing.
BREATHE. verb.
1. to inhale and exhale air.
2. to have life.
While I am very good at bending any word to make applicable to my current life, these words feel profoundly necessary for me in this moment. There are so many unknowns beyond today. Focusing on where I am right now is not just necessary for survival, it just might be my only option. Also exist is the greatest gift I can give myself, particularly when death touches so many neighbors.
But most valuable of all is my word BREATHE. This just might be my best superpower to combat anxiety. Not just for me but for all of us. Inhale peace, exhale fear. I have done this countless times this week. And when I don’t, they remind me of it.
Breathe, mom.
Before I dive into intentions for this next very big season, how about a quick look back at where NOW and BREATHE led me this Winter.
In the last couple of month I used these words to help me get through some of the trickiest parts of winter and find small ways to celebrate NOW.
Read a story in front of an audience - CHECK! I auditioned for a storytelling stage production in February, and while I did not make the production, I did learn so much. Writing for read aloud is very different. I went through multiple drafts trying to get the words, timing, and flow just right. Reading was terrifying, even in front of two people. But it was also so satisfying and has show me I want to keep trying.
Write one poem a month. CHECK! I still need to write March, although I have a couple I could share, but I have loved this challenge so far. February was my favorite.
Read 5 books from my own shelf. CHECK! X2 Three down, two to go. With the libraries shut down for awhile, now I have no other excuse but to read my own books.
Submit one time a month, including two new to me publications. CHECK! X3 I have submitted every month, had a couple yes’s, some no’s, but I am doing it and that is what matters. Also I have already submitted to two new places so that part of the goal is already met. Hurray!
There were many other things on the list that were ready to be checked off over the next couple of months including a solo trip, doctor appointment, vision board party etc. But the pandemic has put postponement on so much of that. However, with canceled plans come the possibility for more time to try other things, like learning to braid hair, for instance!
Moving forward into the next season, I never imagined how necessary intentions would be for this spring season. Spring is usually quiet for me. It is usually an extension of winter anyway. But today, I feel a very new season upon us. The kids are calling at a mini-summer. While I don’t yet feel that, I choose to embrace their optimism. At the very least, I recognize things will be different and having intentions helps guide me.
As I started to write down my ideas, I remembered a common mindfulness practice 5-4-3-2-1. In times of anxiety, you identify something in each of the five senses, 5 things you see, 4 things to touch, 3 things you hear, 2 things you smell, 1 thing to taste. The idea is this practice slowly brings your body into the present, to become more fully ware of where you are now and not where you worry you will be.
I was able to apply the countdown practice to my Intentions, which helped me think about what truly matters for me NOW in this moment.
Here are my Five Spring Intentions—also known as the Quarantine Edition:
FIVE — Keep intention on our family of five. — Directing my attention toward our small family helps narrow my tendency to want to save the world. Take care of each other’s mental health. Be patient. Check in on emotions. Focus on opportunities for adventure and memory making. Tell our story through journaling, video, pictures.
FOUR — Address only four areas each day. Something for our brains, Something for our bodies, Something for our happiness, and Something for someone else’s. These don’t have to be planned, but make a great list to help guide our next right thing.
THREE — Three hours of quiet afternoon time is essential for everyone’s wellbeing. As an introvert, I need space, particularly in the middle of the day. But so do they. This "quiet" time can be different for each of us. For me it will likely be my writing/reading time. For them it will be a combination of alone play time/screen time. But space to breathe is necessary for all.
TWO — Take care of our marriage. We are our greatest allies. We are on the same team. And if we forget to take care of the co-captains, the team is going to fall apart. This means date nights, partner check-ins, reminders to make each other laugh, space to vent, and lots and lots of forgiveness. And hopefully, coming out of this stronger than ever before.
ONE — Choose one thing to be grateful for each day. Breathe in that gratitude, share it with each other, return to it when anxiety surfaces.
With this list of intentions set for our upcoming season, I keep hope that the next season of intention will involve a bit more sunshine and social presence. But at the very least, these intentions will help me feel more confident about a new rhythm of NOW.