october: forgiveness
Implementing coping strategies that work for you often requires a bit of trial and error. There’s a certain amount of experimentation involved in getting these processes juuuust right, and it ultimately requires a lot of forgiveness.
Coping can be its own apology--a balm to the harsh realities and outdated habits we have to deal with them. The distinction between soothing and lulling or forgiving but not forgetting can be blurry and complex. However, there should be no shame in how you cope, even if your decision momentarily leaves you worse for wear. You’re learning. You’re growing. You’re coping.
This past year and a half, we’ve all been up a creek without a paddle--a terrifying but apt metaphor that illustrates the unique ways in which we’ve decided to cope with the incredible amounts of stress this pandemic has brought into all parts of our lives. Some of us grabbed life jackets and jumped in the waters, others sat there stranded in our canoes, and the rest started ripping apart the boat to make our own paddles. And none of us got it “wrong” even if we (metaphorically) began to sink.
Feeling shame around our coping mechanisms can have adverse effects, causing us to sink deeper into maladaptive habits, or avoiding the idea of “coping” at all until we are completely burnt out. This is why I believe forgiveness is so damn important when trying to cope in a nearly un-copeable time.
Forgiveness dulls the sharp edge (which our culture teaches should be around emotional expression) thus allowing us to actually feel what needs to be felt in order to begin the healing process. You can’t cope with emotional turmoil that you keep hidden from yourself. And our society often markets “self-care” as a convenient hiding place for our emotions, rather than creating free and liberating pastures in which to explore true healing modalities through emotional awareness.
With this extra space to breathe, play, and experiment with coping mechanisms that might actually benefit you, it is safer to get it “wrong.” And now might be a good time to explain that I don’t really think you can get it “wrong.” Because if you can use a coping strategy and actually notice that it isn’t working, then all you’ve done is taken one step closer to finding the routine that works best for you.
As I type this, I realize my current coping mechanism has required more grace and patience than usual. My floors are dirty, I need to take my car in, there are dishes in the sink, and clean clothes wadded up in a chair, but currently, this is the best I can fucking do. Work has taken more energy from me than it usually does and I had to stay in bed for an entire day on my weekend so I’m feeling rather behind.
Errands and chores feel unendingly heavy, but accepting that this state of chaos simply cannot last forever (a fact that I still have to convince my anxiety-brain), is helping me to forgive my past-self for choosing rest and Stardew Valley over pushing myself into exhaustion just to keep up with the minutiae of life. The dishes and laundry aren’t going anywhere, and if I can leave them (and myself) be until I have the energy to attend to them, then I’m doing great. I am simply coping with all that is and has been draining me for the past 18 months.
Really, this week I’ve been oscillating between the verge of a meltdown and sticking to this project’s ethos, allowing myself to simply cope through it all. There’s a particular bliss to the latter that gives me a tangible confidence to get through these overwhelming and dark days. It’s not enough energy/clarity to make future plans, but sometimes coping requires a certain amount of tunnel vision. Forgive yourself for not being able to “~manifest✨” your dream career while you literally don’t have the emotional stamina to do the dishes.
And that’s all we can ask of ourselves throughout the coping process--to be present enough with our needs and meet them in the moment (or the nearest available moment). Needs are incredibly dynamic, literally changing with the breeze so be sure to take your coziest sweater. And if you forget it at home, then that’s okay, because you’ll always have your self-forgiveness.
Sr. Corita Kent’s “Love is Here to Stay” print