I found the Imagined Letter from COVID-19 by Kristin Flyntz months ago and have let it sit and percolate. The Universe has wisdom greater than all thinking minds put together. With COVID in our daily lives, we are experiencing global change. We are learning beyond our defined box of normal. We are rewriting history and reconnecting our heart slowly and methodically. We are making change.
For too long we have abandoned our inner child, ignored the weeping, the rage, the pain. We want to be heard. We want to know we are loved. This is our task to fulfill and no one else’s. Now is the time to open the door.
We can choose to focus on fear and predict dire outcomes which bring us back to where we were.
Or we can focus on our breath, sit down, wrap our inner child in gentle kind arms we always hoped for and be patient, be honest and demonstrate your willingness to listen. You, the adult, know your story because you were there. You, the adult, are in charge. Healing happens when you do the work. The work is at hand.
Stop. Just stop. It is no longer a request. It is a mandate. We will help you. We will bring the supersonic, high-speed merry-go-round to a halt We will stop the planes the trains the schools the malls the meetings the frenetic, hurried rush of illusions and “obligations” that keep you from hearing our single and shared beating heart, the way we breathe together, in unison. Our obligation is to each other, As it has always been, even if, even though, you have forgotten. We will interrupt this broadcast, the endless cacophonous broadcast of divisions and distractions, to bring you this long-breaking news: We are not well. None of us; all of us are suffering. Last year, the firestorms that scorched the lungs of the earth did not give you pause. Nor the typhoons in Africa, China, Japan. Nor the fevered climates in Japan and India. You have not been listening. It is hard to listen when you are so busy all the time, hustling to uphold the comforts and conveniences that scaffold your lives. But the foundation is giving way, buckling under the weight of your needs and desires. We will help you. We will bring the firestorms to your body We will bring the fever to your body We will bring the burning, searing, and flooding to your lungs that you might hear: We are not well.
Despite what you might think or feel, we are not the enemy. We are Messenger. We are Ally. We are a balancing force. We are asking you: To stop, to be still, to listen; To move beyond your individual concerns and consider the concerns of all; To be with your ignorance, to find your humility, to relinquish your thinking minds and travel deep into the mind of the heart; To look up into the sky, streaked with fewer planes, and see it, to notice its condition: clear, smoky, smoggy, rainy? How much do you need it to be healthy so that you may also be healthy? To look at a tree, and see it, to notice its condition: how does its health contribute to the health of the sky, to the air you need to be healthy? To visit a river, and see it, to notice its condition: clear, clean, murky, polluted? How much do you need it to be healthy so that you may also be healthy? How does its health contribute to the health of the tree, who contributes to the health of the sky, so that you may also be healthy?
Many are afraid now. Do not demonize your fear, and also, do not let it rule you. Instead, let it speak to you—in your stillness, listen for its wisdom. What might it be telling you about what is at work, at issue, at risk, beyond the threats of personal inconvenience and illness? As the health of a tree, a river, the sky tells you about the quality of your own health, what might the quality of your health tell you about the health of the rivers, the trees, the sky, and all of us who share this planet with you?
Stop. Notice if you are resisting. Notice what you are resisting. Ask why.
Stop. Just stop. Be still. Listen. Ask us what we might teach you about illness and healing, about what might be required so that all may be well. We will help you, if you listen.
Participants’ Reflections:
Usually, in these kinds of readings it says to slow down first. But this one made it sound a lot more urgent. It was ‘stop’, like it was an emergency. Be still and listen. It must be time. It must be time.
I don’t know of anyway to comfort myself around this, I’ve been thinking this way for years. I’ve seen it getting worse and worse. I am aware of the chemicals and what they do to our environment, and how people are developing these complicated chronic illnesses. When I see a sure-fire cure being advertised, it saddens me because it’s more and more chemicals being used in our society. I totally agree with the poem. It saddens me deeply. I hope enough people are going to listen.
It’s important not to get stuck in the sadness but to take action beyond it, whether it’s speaking up like you are doing or whatever. But to stay stuck in the sadness adds to the problem.
It’s nice to be back. What came up for me was, yeah, that’s what’s happening in my life. To go from three rib injuries—each one was saying nope, stop. You think you’ve got it? Nope, stop. Accepting that, it feels like there is some force that is saying ‘stop’. And it does feel urgent. What I would add is get the energies up that are calling to you to say stop. Because the signs are sometimes subtle and we may not heed them. They sometimes need to hit me over the head with a two by four.
That’s how I feel about fibromyalgia when it found me. I didn’t listen for a very, very long time and then it smacked me right upside the head and cut me at the knees. And I was down. And then I listened. Sometimes it takes that.
Last night, I had anxiety dreams about not being able to get home. I take the wrong train; I lose my handbag. On and on. I woke up this morning with my back spasming. It didn’t feel fair. I’m working hard, doing energy work, stretching, and in my dreams this happens? I don’t know what else to do. I guess we are going to get hit over the head one way or the other, whether we like it or not.
Dreams like these are very familiar to me. I used to experience them too. It’s part of the process. I used to dream horrible things and wake up in spasm and not hardly able to get out of bed. It happened on and off for a period of time. It’s part of the process of things coming out of me. That’s what is important to remember. Things are coming out. They aren’t hitting us from the outside like an enemy. It’s another opportunity to say, okay, I’ll keep going, I’ll keep practicing, I’ll keep doing. I haven’t had those dreams in a while. It means you are on the right path, as sucky as that sounds.
Personally, I want to thank you for gathering this group every day. I feel like I have found a jewel. With Covid, isolation has gotten me to a place where I can convince myself that I am the only one struggling and I’m the only one with issues. Coming here every morning, everyone is so vulnerable and honest. Hearing others struggles has helped me a lot. I get anxiety not knowing what’s ahead, maybe a vaccine and then having to reconfigure a life after almost a year of isolation. I have been rewarded by groups like this. It feels like it will be a new design and I have anxiety about how that will look for myself. I like many aspects of zoom meetings. I’m trying to not look to the future. I appreciate the inner child work you did this morning. I’m glad I’m here.
The future is an unknown. Unknown means uncertainty, and uncertainty means instability, and instability means fear. It’s all connected. We are in a collective as we are moving forward into whatever the vaccine will bring. And we will all be fumbling. One of the things I’ve realized is how much of an introvert I am and have enjoyed not having to go out. I take that knowledge as I go forward that I do need this time. So as things change to a new normal, I will honor my introvert-ness. We learn as we go. I’ll be addressing fears like this in my talk tonight. They are real and we all deal with them in one form or another.
Those are such powerful words. I wish everyone would read those and think about it. It needs to reach other people. In Millis, Massachusetts, the Peace Abbey has a Global Pandemic Touchstone (see photo above) which honors essential workers and is a place to go to pray and think about Covid. You can go to it and pray. It’s a one-ton tombstone on a one-ton carriage, at the Life Experience School. It’s a place to focus prayer. It’s open all the time.
I want to highlight the lines ‘healing happens when you do the work. The work is at hand.’ That is so important and true. The healing happens when you do the work and you have to do the work. And now is the time because it is the time.
When I was writing that, I saw a tug of war. I was on one side with this big, thick rope, and on the other side was my fear. Yanking. It’s that hard work, fighting the fear. And I saw that and felt that. It’s hard work and it is daunting. Who wants to do it if we can slip back into distraction? But it creates peace of mind if we do the hard work.
I experienced trying to listen, quieting down enough to listen and realize that it’s not a big deal to listen. It’s my narrative and thoughts getting ready to listen. I’ve been experiencing and feeling lower back pain in the last week whenever I get up. When I was listening to the pain, I put my hands back on the area. And a voice said, I have your back. I became really touched inside. It’s in moments like that that I begin the experience of listening and following it. It’s a real process of learning to be in that place. Definitely my thoughts because I am very skillful at moving away. I felt something relax in me.
That’s great awareness because it says a lot about what’s going on and what your body is holding in emotional pain. We are kinesthetic beings. We move with our emotions and minds.
After we say stop, it helps me to say simply ‘let it be.’ Let it be. That acceptance will sometimes be very healing.
And in that simple word stop, I feel that you are with yourself when you are saying it. You are the adult with the child and you are saying stop, let it be. It’s like waiting before you cross a road.
Thank you for setting aside this time for yourself, for opening your ears to listen, and your eyes to see what is within and without you. I hope you all have a gentle day. I trust you all will be with yourselves.