Member-only story
A Virtual Hug at a Time We All Need One
Honoring our experience and being gentle with ourselves
I am sitting at my kitchen table looking out the window at greening pastures that roll away gently and then rise to a line of trees at the base of a small mountain. The morning sun is casting a hazy glow. A hummingbird visits the flowers in pots on the deck.
The chickens are scratching in the garden; one vocal hen reports the egg she just laid. The birds sing. The neighbor’s tractor slowly rolls by the house headed to the hay field to retrieve a roll of hay for his cows. It is so quiet in my house I can hear the grandfather clock as it ticks off the seconds. Peace reigns.
Yet, within myself, there is no peace. Instead of calm, like a clear alpine lake, my insides are churning with the force of the winds — the winds of change, the gales of fear, the howling mistral that portends uncertainty. How can I make my insides match the bucolic peace of the outside?
We are all in a state of hyper-vigilance. We have come to see the world as a dangerous place, and the people around us as possible vectors for disease in ourselves and our loved ones. We are afraid that the groceries we bring into the house are carrying the virus right into our kitchen. We duck our heads and give a wide berth to those in our path.
