Meditation: Headspace, Breathing in Hope Length: 5 minutes Where: Noho Park, Los Angeles How It Felt: Itchy but uplifting Who Joined Me: Steve
We had every intention of going for a hike today, but it was still well over 90 degrees in the late afternoon, so we changed course and went to the park instead for a nice, long walk. Halfway through, Steve and I sat in the grass and meditated.
As I’ve written about frequently already, I’m definitely struggling to adjust to the new pace of life. As a brilliant friend wrote in his post about how strange the world is today:
“The world is no longer at a stand still, though in many ways it really should be. So we either move along, or get left behind.” (Yes, Myles. Yes.)
I told Steve it felt like I was dropped back into the maze of life before I was ready to navigate it again. Not only have I forgotten some of the path that used to come so naturally to me, but, while I was away, someone moved most of the walls just a tiny bit, so that everything feels somewhat familiar, but ever so slightly off.
Nothing is exactly as we left it.
I think this is a good thing in the long run. I think we are shifting, finding more self-worth, a slower pace, and better priorities. I’m hoping this is good for all of us, hoping that we learned some lessons about life and we will adjust accordingly as a society.
Hoping.
Everything is a dichotomy. I can’t wait to sink my teeth into this juicy acting role, and I’m also half afraid I’ve forgotten how to do it. I’m excited to see everyone I’ve missed terribly, but overwhelmed by the types of social interaction I used to have regularly. I’m grateful for my vaccination and feeling less afraid of contracting or passing along the virus, but more angry than ever at people who refuse to do their part to prevent more infections, more death, more loss.
Today we sat in the park and did a meditation for hope. Hope that I can pick up my career where I left off. That I can believe in myself even when I feel shaky. That we will do better as a society than we have before. That people’s hearts and minds will be opened and they will do the right thing. That the sickness and death will be less and less. That we will not forget the lessons we’ve learned in these crazy times. That I can be stronger than I was before. That the deep, real love Steve and I have tapped into more fully than ever will continue to grow despite life getting busy again.
Hope that this will all be okay. That we will all be okay. That we can unite in love. That we an be kinder, gentler, more understanding. That we can make the shifts we need to make.
There is a lot of ignorance and anger out there right now, and a lot of fear. People are afraid to let go of control, afraid to back down, afraid to admit they might be on the wrong side of things. People are afraid of losing more loved ones, afraid to enter a world different than they remember, afraid to get sucked back into habits that don’t serve them. This is challenging.
I believe we can do it though. I have so much faith in the human race, despite what I’ve seen the past five years. I believe love always wins, eventually. I really do. I believe progress marches forward. I believe if we stand together, we can change so many things. I’ve seen it happen. I know it can.
If you are struggling with this transition right now, just know that you are not alone. None of us have lived through anything like this before, not in this way. It’s new. There will be growing pains and discomfort. There will be relearning. But we can do it.
We can do it. I can do this. I have so much hope for what’s to come.
My Year of Meditation 