The revelation is about the anxiety that gripped me in New York. Being anxious made it impossible for me to touch things, to settle, to relax. I was literally stuck in New York, but my anxiety made my world even smaller. I became afraid to be.
It occurs to me, that there are a lot more people experiencing this quality of being hemmed in—maybe to distraction—maybe for the first time in their lives. I've heard my friends tell me their shopping strategies based around the logistics of timing and available cleaning supplies. Others remember suddenly not to touch handrails, or elevator buttons, or sink handles. Things that were thoughtless manifestations of being (opening a door, hugging a friend, sharing a sip from a waterbottle) are on lockdown.
I have so much compassion for this experience. The experience of the world getting smaller and smaller. The experience of working through multiple steps to perform simple actions—the new attention you have in washing your hands, putting the groceries away, opening the mail.
I've been practicing this kind of strategic heightened risk-assessment for years—I know exactly how to keep track of all the things that should be washed, or left in the sun, or thrown away. And, I have had to adapt to this. I've learned that I tend to over-assess for risk. So I began taking medication to help my mind relax its grip on problems that were impossible—that made it impossible for me to function.
But this is the kicker! The thing that we're living through, right, now. This is what my Anxiety is for! It knows how to scan the field for these dangers. And it feels heartbreaking, to be honest. I have had to teach myself infinitesimally small step by step that I am allowed to be in the world.
Even as feel my heart expand in understanding and love for everyone who's freaking out about touching something right now, anyone who's worried about germs for the first time in their life, and anyone who feels like their world has grown incredibly small... I also know that you are allowed to be in the world.
And the world is big, and crazy, and full of actually scary things. And it's a good time, maybe the first good time—in my experience—to be a little anxious, to do a little over-assessing for risk. But, I've learned something from my years interacting with anxiety. It's important to do this as an act of love. May all of your acts of sanitation, all of your second guesses and double-checks be acts of love.
In love and solidarity,
Christy
