Something that I have learned in the pandemic is that I don't need nearly as much as I thought I did. Coming from a place of lack, which I now understand to really just be spiritual bankruptcy for which there is a simple solution, the hardest part of accepting the pandemic was that I would have to either go without, or ration.
As the days went on I became aware that not only would there be essential business as usual, but that the stores were continually working on being restocked. Then as the weeks went on I became ever more comfortable, finding the times where I could get supplies with minimal or no lineups. And today I see that I am perfectly content being at home, and okay to just go out when I need to replenish staples. I not only have to not ration, I can still access everything I enjoy to use.
But what I noticed most of all is that even though I come from a place of "not enough", I don't actually use much at all. Other than ample research, contemplation, and artistic time, discovering that not only do I have enough, but that a supply can actually last quite a while, was the greatest gift I was given this past month.
This pandemic forced me to meet my demons in a way that I'm not sure I would have been able to have done before, because I was never in a position where I couldn't work, and in so where I was free of time commitment on something other than myself. So while I have been able to heal in quarantine because I am a recovery advocate which ties in wonderfully with my artistry, and where I have been given the opportunity to flourish in my craft, I also had some very dark hours where I had to accept that I have a deficit in my life that I could no longer evade. My primal fear of death came not in a novel disease, but in not having the means to survive my own frail humanness.
I had puffed myself up through my God-given nature of pomp and pageantry, but I also defied that I am constantly vulnerable to injury, disease, and deterioration. This disconnect led to very low self-esteem, because I was deluded, which is the antithesis of living in God's will for me to be in Truth. Now through a crisis I could no longer evade, I learn to respect that I am not a law unto myself: I am subject within the law of Nature.
As we come out the other side of this pandemic, my pride and boredom wants me to go back to a sort of "prosperity gospel", where God is impersonal, and where I can will my way to success and adrenaline rushes on my own resources. But more importantly, where I can live apart from a sacrificial God.
During quarantine, it's been very easy to apply my faith, because there were no other options. A life of hardship, fear, and the certainty of death was apparent in everyone's lives. There has been great clarity where the wealthy and the poor have been in solidarity: we are fragile and needy. For the first time in our lives, no matter what generation we are in, socioeconomic advantages can't postpone the fear of death: we have all been leveled.
And yet now that life is starting to feel a bit less chaotic and frightening, I find myself going back to the mind-state of "more", of excess, and this is inconsistent with the God who I made a commitment to follow ten years ago to the day.
As we begin the reemergence of our collective consciousness, I am not so sure we healed the way I was personally hoping for, which I am simply basing off of my own interpretation of the world, so I can only return to my own narrow path, and recommit to the creed which says "I'm third". With three parts of the Trinity, of God, being third doesn't have to be painful; it can be glorious, if I choose for it to be. Sacrificial love doesn't have to be synonymous with hardship and discomfort, it can mean pure and supportive connection to others, which through the pandemic, many of us now know to be the antidote to fear and uncertainty.
But what I noticed most of all is that even though I come from a place of "not enough", I don't actually use much at all. Other than ample research, contemplation, and artistic time, discovering that not only do I have enough, but that a supply can actually last quite a while, was the greatest gift I was given this past month.
This pandemic forced me to meet my demons in a way that I'm not sure I would have been able to have done before, because I was never in a position where I couldn't work, and in so where I was free of time commitment on something other than myself. So while I have been able to heal in quarantine because I am a recovery advocate which ties in wonderfully with my artistry, and where I have been given the opportunity to flourish in my craft, I also had some very dark hours where I had to accept that I have a deficit in my life that I could no longer evade. My primal fear of death came not in a novel disease, but in not having the means to survive my own frail humanness.
I had puffed myself up through my God-given nature of pomp and pageantry, but I also defied that I am constantly vulnerable to injury, disease, and deterioration. This disconnect led to very low self-esteem, because I was deluded, which is the antithesis of living in God's will for me to be in Truth. Now through a crisis I could no longer evade, I learn to respect that I am not a law unto myself: I am subject within the law of Nature.
As we come out the other side of this pandemic, my pride and boredom wants me to go back to a sort of "prosperity gospel", where God is impersonal, and where I can will my way to success and adrenaline rushes on my own resources. But more importantly, where I can live apart from a sacrificial God.
During quarantine, it's been very easy to apply my faith, because there were no other options. A life of hardship, fear, and the certainty of death was apparent in everyone's lives. There has been great clarity where the wealthy and the poor have been in solidarity: we are fragile and needy. For the first time in our lives, no matter what generation we are in, socioeconomic advantages can't postpone the fear of death: we have all been leveled.
And yet now that life is starting to feel a bit less chaotic and frightening, I find myself going back to the mind-state of "more", of excess, and this is inconsistent with the God who I made a commitment to follow ten years ago to the day.
As we begin the reemergence of our collective consciousness, I am not so sure we healed the way I was personally hoping for, which I am simply basing off of my own interpretation of the world, so I can only return to my own narrow path, and recommit to the creed which says "I'm third". With three parts of the Trinity, of God, being third doesn't have to be painful; it can be glorious, if I choose for it to be. Sacrificial love doesn't have to be synonymous with hardship and discomfort, it can mean pure and supportive connection to others, which through the pandemic, many of us now know to be the antidote to fear and uncertainty.
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