october: intention
It’d be a little too obvious to mention how we’ve all tried to adapt, cope, and continue on during this unrelenting pandemic. We’ve all been doing what we can under the crushing weight of inaction from our government and fellow humans. Many times throughout this project, I’ve lightly touched on this idea of “coping” and I think we’re finally far enough removed from the onset of Covid-19 to begin to unpack the tendencies and quirks we’ve adopted throughout these last 19 months.
Personally, to deal with the confusion and shame of being 24 years old, moving back in with my parents, and being unemployed (not to mention the trauma of surviving a virus like this), I picked up reading. I read like it was my job and often told people as such. I read and wrote to fill the time, to tell myself that I was being productive. I certainly don’t believe we should be compelled to produce; however, there was an itch I couldn’t scratch, wounds I couldn’t heal. So I resorted to consuming and producing something--anything--to combat the isolation and abandonment inspired by old friends making decisions lethal to my existence, upset and confused at the divisions further splitting our country.
We are all heartbroken. No matter how much or how little of the grief we believed to have moved through. As a collective, we’re still in it. We’re still aching with sore eyes that spend all day counting death or avoiding the number of overflowing ICUs like the plague.
To cope is to do the best with what we have. Coping is never perfect and it certainly isn’t a science. After months of obsessive reading and writing, I still felt empty. And to this day there is still a void within me to which no amount of long walks, meditating, skateboarding, painting, or the like could fill.
They say, “pick your poison,” when we’re really searching for an antidote. But maybe all we have are temporary fixes while we allow our subconscious to work its healing magic within us. Quite possibly, all we can do is nurture ourselves enough to ease the symptoms of greater wounds as they arise.
Coping cannot be the end all, be all, but also don’t take my word for it. I encourage you to spend time this week looking a little closer at the concept of “coping mechanisms.” Sure, it’s sprinkled generously throughout memes and pseudo-psychological IG accounts, but what has coping given you? What coping mechanisms have made it easier for you to survive this pandemic? Who are you without your coping mechanisms and how did they develop?
Usually, we learn how to cope (self-soothe) at an early age and from there we often return to the feelings of safety, comfort, and stability that a child could give to themselves. So it is important to intimately understand where your comfort and security come from--and if your coping skills actually make you feel as such or if they’re simply feeding the source of your pain through some roundabout avenue of self-indulgence.
What is your intention when you implement your coping strategies? Is it to heal or just feel a little better for a little while? Release any old stories or beliefs about what coping is and could be for you. Simply approach this topic as if it were something totally new. There is no shame in being a novice, especially when the task is to take care of yourself as an adult.
Cope with a grain of salt and self-awareness this week. Set your sails for some truth you always knew was in you but didn’t know quite how to get to.
