Pandemic PAUSE: Getting comfortable with being uncomfortable
My friend Meryl wrote an amazing blog post for Ithaca.Community where she explains what it’s like to be the mother of Black sons in America during the COVID-19 pandemic and the simultaneous pandemic of racism. One of the most powerful quotes from the blog is at the end of her first paragraph.
“I know this virus is dangerous. I’m happy to comply. But what of the other pandemic that’s been claiming the lives of Black and Brown people for centuries? Where is the PAUSE order on racism?”
I’ve been watching and listening during our self-isolation for coronavirus, and the aftermath of George Floyd’s murder. Depending on the lens I’m looking through, I can see people working in unison for the safety of their communities, or I can see people living in fear, casting blame, and losing patience with anyone who has a belief different from their own.
We are tired, stressed, fed up. We are agitated, frustrated, on edge. Our fuses are SHORT.
(and this is written with acknowledgement that my “tired” is nothing compared to the exhaustion of Black mothers who are fearing for their children’s lives.)
When we’re living with highly sensitive sympathetic nervous systems — the system that activates our fight or flight response — we have short fuses for situations that seem threatening, scary, or uncomfortable.
This can manifest as feelings of anxiety, tightness through the jaw & shoulders, trouble sleeping, or even a quick-tempered comment on a friend from high school’s social media post.
When you have a hyper-fast reaction to a stimulus, you don’t have time to control your reaction.
In a year like 2020, how can we build a longer fuse?
Practicing pausing in discomfort
When you hear “white people have a lot of work to do when it comes to breaking down systemic oppression?” what feeling arises? I’ll admit I’ve had feelings like, “I’d like to try, but that sounds hard. I’m afraid I’m going to say the wrong thing or be shamed. I don’t know where to start.” I know that breaking down my privilege and inherent racism is going to be very uncomfortable (which is exactly the point - I’ve been comfortable in this system long enough).
BUT being afraid to talk about race, privilege, and how we benefit from a system of white supremacy — simply because those conversations put us in a place of discomfort — is a major reason that well-meaning white people have stayed on the sidelines of the fight for racial justice for too long.
“Talking about race, racism, injustice, and oppression is uncomfortable for many adults. We have been trained to believe we don’t see race (we do), to not talk about it, to blindly believe racist stereotypes, and support racist policies. Talking about race with children requires us, the adults, to know who we are. We need to know how our identities are understood by others, how we have been influenced by the media and the institutions we were brought up in, and where our privilege and immunity exists.”
As a white lady who’s admittedly early in my anti-racism educational journey, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I can avoid being (or raising) the next Amy Cooper. I don’t want to be that jerk who uses my privilege to threaten others when I feel afraid. I don’t want to have an automatic response to yell for help, call the cops, fight or flight when I feel threatened by something that is ultimately peaceful.
I want to be able to PAUSE and see the situation clearly, have time to think of an appropriate response, and then act. (I’m watching a LOT of Gov. Cuomo this pandemic, I think he may be wearing off on me).
Over the last couple weeks, I felt a strong pull to create two new meditations. One is a practice in building compassion, and the other is designed to build emotional resilience when we feel confronted or threatened.
My hope for these two meditations is that with practice, they’ll help create a PAUSE — even one breath — between stimulus and response. While I made these meditations with my (mostly white, affluent) yoga students in mind, I think they would be beneficial for anyone who notices their temper flaring at another person, or feels like hiding away from feelings of discomfort.
Compassion Meditation (10 min)
I first experienced this practice at the Omega Women’s Leadership Intensive last year. There were over 40 amazing women of all backgrounds there, and we partnered up to do this meditation. As we sat and looked each other in the eye, we silently repeated the phrases, “This person has experienced physical and emotional pain and suffering, just like me… This person wishes to be free from pain and suffering, just like me… This person wishes to be safe and healthy, just like me.” It was incredibly powerful, and we were all crying by the end of it.
Even though we’re still in self-isolation and it’ll be awhile before we can sit next to someone and breathe the same air, I believe this meditation is incredibly powerful even practiced solo.
In a world of divisiveness, this meditation is designed to activate your compassion and help you begin your interactions with others from a place of unity.
Meditation for Emotional Resilience (26 min)
No one likes to feel uncomfortable or embarrassed. Our society really shames us for falling out of line, and part of embracing an anti-racist educational journey is learning to be uncomfortable and embarrassed without lashing out or hiding away.
This meditation is a baby step in that direction, and is designed to be a practice (not a one-time cure-all). The main idea is that by practicing vulnerability in a safe space, we can build emotional resilience for our day-to-day lives, and hopefully find that PAUSE between what we perceive as a threat to our safety or pride, and how we react.
(This meditation should always be practiced in a comfortable, safe space, where you will not be interrupted.)
I hope these meditations are helpful if you’re looking for a conscious way to foster unity and peace in your life.
Let’s come out of these two pandemics stronger, and together.