Grab an Oar

We are not all in the same boat. Heck, even if we are, we are NOT in the same storm.

I’m certain that many of you have seen the viral posts from an anonymous source in response to the “we are all in the same boat” memes that have floated around social media. If not, here’s a link to the one I shared: https://www.facebook.com/dont.forget.to.breathe. It resonates with me on so many levels. Perhaps I have a window into the different flavors of worry and experience because of the work that I do. However, it is not just my clients that are varied in their stories. It is all of us. And each of us has a different boat. Some may be on an ocean liner, comfy, and tucked away with a pod full of people. Some are in tug boats, running on fumes but steadily chugging along. Others are in rowboats praying they can survive the next swell. And some may feel like they are on the Titanic. And let us not forget those who are floating in life preservers just praying someone will answer their distress call.

My kids are all college-age. My youngest is missing his graduation, but he is one of the few that is actually elated to avoid the hours-long celebration that is merely a stepping stone to his next stage of schooling. Online classes, while less than ideal, are going fine for him. He took the pass/fail option because it really didn’t matter for his 3.7 GPA. My two oldest are trying to survive online classes at a university that barely supports their students in person; they are missing out on their college baseball season and now the cancellation of their collegiate summer leagues. I anticipated a downturn in client activity when this all began and instead find myself booked solid for the next few weeks. My boat is rocky at times, but I am loving the moments that I am gaining with them - we haven’t been home this much in the spring for over 10 years due to sports. We are still getting paid. We have savings. We have a home, food in the pantry/refrigerator, and plenty of lands to roam at a more-than-safe distance from others. Our storm is one of holding it together mentally - the isolation for my extroverted kid has been a journey and one that has led to bringing 1 trusted buddy into the pod for everyone’s sanity. The lack of structure has presented a different challenge for each of us. Just as unique are the systems we have put in place to create a bit if that structure. Even the dog is confused by all of the people presence that is in the home. 4 beds to snuggle in, 5 humans to manipulate. My #goodstuff posts are what keep me in the positive - looking for the silver linings of each day, sharing that with my friends, and keeping this part of my ongoing habits of gratitude. Occasionally we lose an oar, and one of us has to go in to retrieve it. But overall the crisis is averted and we recover.

Not everyone is so fortunate. In addition to different boats, let us not forget that each of us may also in a different storm. This is where I differ in my thoughts from the popular post. “We are in the same storm, not the same boat” is not what I’m feeling or seeing. I liken it to the storm fronts that move across the states. What may hit as a stage 5 hurricane in some communities may morph into a gentle rain for those at the end of the storm. We are in neither the same storm nor the same boat, but we are all in the same season. Some of us are riding this out solo. Others want to hide in a closet to escape all of the people. Some of us are not even in the same level of isolation or quarantine. We may live in communities that have been relatively unscathed at this point. We may be in a state where protesting is happening. We may live in an area like NYC where everyone is essentially on lock-down or in areas where we need some sort of legitimate reason to be out past a newly imposed curfew. This is NOT normal. It is hard.

Some of us are finding social distancing as an opportunity to reset and deepen connections with our partners, family, and close friends. Others are finding this level of isolation to bring a new level of discord among our families or marriages. If your boat feels like it is in distress, you may need to grab an oar. For my family, we had to set new boundaries to taper the discord and set new expectations for 5 adults to cohabitate in some semblance of harmony. For some of my clients, that meant shifting priorities and letting go of academic perfection, confronting these broken lines of communication in our homes and rebuilding networks, creating new adaptations to previous structure and strategies for coping with time/work/chores/connection. Several of my clients are noticing increasing levels of anxiety or depression as this storm seems to bring more uncertainty without a clear path or end in sight. Grabbing an oar can be as simple as finding someone to talk to, working on your sleep cycles, taking a daily walk.

I keep coming back to the 3 pillars of health as a check-in: Am I sleeping well? Am I nourishing my body? Am I moving enough each day to support my physical and mental health? Some days are better than others. Connection is another quadrant I am paying attention to. All of this Zooming is wonderful in one right. It is mentally exhausting without the balance of in-person human interaction. I’ve started turning off the camera during meetings where this is an option. I have some clients that have opted to connect via phone/voice instead of video. Each week I learn something about myself and others.

Taking stock of our own needs in this journey is how many of us are finding comfort or help in the storms that we are riding out.