Today during my yoga session the instructor told us to focus on our inner-selves -- the parts of ourselves that we put on the back burners and don't really address until we're forced to. I have really grown to love yoga. What once started as a necessity has turned into a hobby and an outlet for stress and anxiety that has started building up the past couple of months.
As more states’ stay-at-home orders are lifted I think about what changes will impact the world afterwards. Not just the changes associated with society or the people who have lost their lives, but the little things. The changes that we have all experienced, whether they are internal and personal, or external and affecting our daily routines, are going to have some sort of impact on us once all of this is “over”. I find comfort in talking to friends who say that this time in isolation has made them experience a large range of emotions. I've experienced long stretches of motivation -- during those times I started this blog, read a book in a day, and found a new hobby in cooking new recipes. But within those long stretches are pockets of...I don’t even really know what they are, but I guess it feels as if you’re sitting in a completely blank-white room, unaware of where the ceiling and walls end or begin. During these moments I feel suspended from reality, while the walls are simultaneously caving in fast.
I tend to live life as a truly happy person. I have support systems and feel love from several places, some even unknown to me. But when you live as a happy, confident person, I think that people forget that there are days that just feel bad all over. Sometimes I have a bad tendency of seeing the world in black and white, and I start freaking out about far-reaching, doomsday-esque hypotheticals rather than just embracing the day that I have in front of me.
These are the days that are anxiety inducing, when doubt creeps into the back of my mind, making my body lethargic and holding me down. If I Google those symptoms, WebMd will probably give me a list of the types of depression. And while I’m not above those symptoms and experiences, there’s something different in these moments. I don’t feel depressed, because I know that I feel great pretty much all of the time, but I know that I haven’t felt normal. I guess my “normal,” used to be all about living on the go, moving forward in a linear fast-track from one thing to the next with clear goals and thresholds that needed to be met. I think I derived a lot of happiness from checking off boxes in pursuit of my dreams.
Now that the days have slowed down finding happiness in the pursuit of any goal is almost terrifying. It feels like those dreams where I am running as fast as I possibly can through a large field. But when I look down, I’m not going anywhere. The amount of introspection that this causes makes me feel like I’ve simply spent way too much time with myself. And that’s probably true, but I don’t think I’ve spent this much time on myself ever.
At the end of these slow-motion episodes of fear, I’ve started taking note of the smallest things that make me happy, and continue to make me feel joy on the worst days. New additions to the list include focusing on my newly curated playlists, taking a daily multivitamin, embracing futbol as an outlet, not just a workout, binge-watching and completing Avatar: The Last Airbender on Netflix, and focusing on drinking more water throughout the day. Even though I think it’s one of the most basic stickers that can be found on agenda notebooks and stationary decor, the little things really do push me through. I choose to live in the constant pursuit of happiness, and I’m learning that within those trials are humbling experiences and moments of doubt that make my happiness that much brighter. Xoxo
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