Today I rode a wave of emotions that ranged from contentment, to anxiousness, to frustration, to sadness, to irritation, to appreciation, to anger, to joy...you name it, I felt it. At one point today my 9-year-old son took my left hand in his, hit the home button on my watch, and started the deep breathing app for me. Luckily, somehow I ended up at a yoga class in Chester Bowl at 5:30 and the barking dog part of my brain (that instinctual part towards the back that gears me up for danger) quieted down long enough for the "wise owl" part of my brain to return. The return of the wise owl brought with her two of my good friends, logic and problem-solving. By the end of the class I felt more calm and regulated than I had in days.
As a parent and educator, this week has been a doozy. After months of waiting and wondering and guessing, last Thursday the State of Minnesota provided recommendations on how to proceed with the upcoming school year. I honestly didn't dwell on the news over the weekend much and mostly felt good about the idea that my kids and I would be headed back to school, as we typically do, each fall. This week, as I thought about our circumstances more, spoke with friends and colleagues, and listened to my administrators outline in broad strokes the vastness of the situation that lies ahead of us, the fact that this school year would be anything but typical started to settle in. On top of that, I received an email from my daughter's preschool teacher that a child who attends the same preschool on opposite days of my daughter tested positive for CoVid. This meant that my daughter's teacher would have to cancel class until further notice, quarantine for 14 days, and go in for CoVid testing. All of a sudden something that had been in my periphery for the past 5 months was quickly coming into focus. For the past few days I've been making mental lists of people my family has been in close contact with in the event that my daughter's teacher has news she tested positive for CoVid. I've questioned the level of risk my family and I assumed during this pandemic, and found myself having to make decisions about whether or not to have the reading tutor come this week, or if I should bring the boys to soccer, or let the neighbor kids in our yard. All the while, I was walking around with this information.....and the fear and shame and uncertainty associated with it was clouding and distorting everything. The barking dog was right up in my ear. As I drove to pick the boys up from soccer after my yoga class I rediscovered a space that, prior to this week, I had been occupying for some time now. It was in early July, around my 40th birthday believe or not, when my family and I settled into a space I felt really good about. You know that feeling when you venture near a rocky cliff and beyond that cliff therein lies a magnificent landscape? The closer you venture toward the edge, the more majestic the view.....and...the more acutely aware your body is of the danger that lies below. It often takes some adjusting, a few steps forward, a few steps back, maybe one step to the side onto more solid ground...but I can almost always find a space where I relax enough to take in the beauty around me because I feel good about the ground I'm standing on. That was me for the past few weeks. I was feeling so confident that I no longer felt threatened by the people standing behind me. The people who chose to sacrifice some of the view for more solid ground beneath them. Nor was I longing to be closer to the edge, to be with the people who were experiencing the landscape in panorama. I was good where I was at and both understood and respected the decisions of those in front, behind, and around me. Isn't it always the case that no sooner do we settle in to enjoy the view and the wind kicks up or the ground beneath us starts to shake? All of a sudden the barking dogs send us stumbling backwards. All week I felt myself doing this...stumbling backwards so quickly that I didn't have a good sense for where and how solid the ground I had stumbled upon was. Not until my good friends, logic and problem solving, caught up with me and I was able to assess my situation for what it was. Much like the edge of a steep cliff, CoVid is nothing I am taking lightly and I will continue to take the necessary precautions for myself and my family to protect us and those around us as best we can. The threat of CoVid is not going away and eventually, maybe this week, maybe a few months from now, it is going to impact my community and my family more directly than it has since this whole thing started. And it's not going to be anybody's fault. And I am not going out looking for someone to blame. And I am not going to try to make myself feel better by shaming others and their decisions. Tonight, after backing a few steps away from the ledge, I feel good from where I'm standing. Tomorrow I might need to take a few more steps back, or maybe creep slowly forward to take in more of the beauty around me. Either way I am comforted by the fact that no one else can feel what I feel and no else can recognize that space where I am able to relax and live my life with a clear view of what makes my life meaningful. I am going to try hard to honor those around me by respecting their right to find and recognize and occupy their own best space however close or far that space is from mine.
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AuthorMy name is Alissa Anderson. I am the School Psychologist for the Esko Public School District in Esko, MN. I am also a mother of three and was certified as a Love and Logic Parent Educator in 2009. Archives
January 2023
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