seeds of dis-ease
Seeds have been sown. Seeds of hyper-vigiliance, isolation, disembodiment, loneliness. It may seem like those are all “mind” issues, like all of those emotional states can be shifted, but our viscera knows a different truth: everything we feel is absorbed, just like food and water and air, and metabolized into tangible existence. In traditional Chinese medicine, lungs take in oxygen, but also grief and anxiety. Worry gets lodged in the spleen, anger throws the liver function out of whack. And fear? Fear goes straight to the kidneys, causing a whole endocrine upset. When we are fearful, flooded with cortisol, and in a constant state of threat, it’s not that hard to imagine what might follow. In this lineage of bodily understanding, the antidote to fear is wisdom. If wisdom can quell fear, what does cultivating wisdom look like in the ‘age of coronavirus’?
In the same way that our hormones downshift and release oxytocin (the “love” hormone) when we smell rich soil, they also regulate when we get a hug, or make eye contact with a friend, or smell their subtle smell sitting side by side. Human connection is essential to a healthy functioning body, especially for children. Charles Eisenstein’s words ring in my ears:
“How much of life do we want to sacrifice at the altar of security? How much are we willing to live in fear? Socially and biologically, health comes from community. Life does not thrive in isolation.”
This virus is a particular threat to those of us with underlying conditions and auto-immune disorders. Bu new underlying conditions and auto-immune disorders being seeded right now, in our response to living with this particular virus. And not just for the elderly or particularly vulnerable, but for the vibrant, once buoyant children who are now living under lockdown, forced to be in front of a screen and afforded little contact outside of their homes (in this county at least). Using zoom as a replacement for learning and social contact for this generation is like assuring your pet fish that it’s tank is just as big as the sea. It’s time to get real about that. As Alanna Shaikh writes, “We are listening to oversimplified lies that make us think that hate and fury and loneliness are the solution to outbreaks. But their not, they just make us less prepared. [We need to be] guided by equity, equity is actually in our own self interest.” Our equity right now is what will ensure the next generation we are raising will have the tools they need to weather what’s to come.
Our ancestors, again and again throughout history, have practiced gripping and hunkering down in the face of threat, and then, lashing out with their perceived swords. It’s so old, this response, that to change it would mean changing our cellular response to how we interact with illness, predators, or attackers…anything that threatens our existence. Our first response may be along the lines of freezing, fighting, or fleeing. That’s normal when we are reckoning with a huge release of cortisol, something that happens for all animals under threat. But what comes after fear? That’s the question I’m sitting with right now. What comes after the initial threat? How do the elk relax back into grass munching after being chased around by wolves? Humans are nothing if not creative and resilient, so what might we find by crawling out of our hiding places, and looking to the horizon? What else is possible?
Joanna Macy’s teachings come to mind when I think of moving into what’s possible. Starting with gratitude, inhaling the wonder and beauty of life, noticing the small wonders inside of each inhale. Then, exhaling the truth of all the pieces that have gotten us where we are right now – honoring our pain. Letting the grief be loud and full, so we know where it hurts. Nothing can heal without knowing where the wounds are. Then, seeing with new eyes the interwoven connection of thousands of years of exploitation and greed, and this moment, this virus, demanding we do something different. Finally, going forth without gripping or lashing out – going forth with a metabolized experience of what we are made of, and what possibilities arise from our constant remaking.
We might start with the acknowledgement of what’s true: we are not special. We are not different. We are the same as the weed we are thinking of ripping up, the snake we just accidentally mowed over, the deer hit by the late night driver, the fish hauled up out of the water. With acknowledgement, the possibility of acceptance arises. With acceptance, well, the sky is the limit. The present moment becomes precious, and from behind our masks and walls and barriers, we see that nothing, absolutely nothing, can keep us from living this moment as the gift that it is, not something we are owed, and must protect. What would it look like, if out of our collective fears about illness, disease, suffering, and death were transformed into a collective wisdom - how brilliant would that be?
“Each moment gives you the opportunity to show you who you are, and gives you the chance to decide if that’s who you want to be.” -Christopher M. Jackson