Facemasks and Faith

I'm not sure about you all, but I have been sleeping like shit lately. Maybe it's the stress, anxiety, and grief that is caused by the overall trauma of being in a global pandemic and collectively experiencing the trauma of our world as we know it shutting down. Who knows though, maybe it's just me (lol).

So the other morning, wide awake at my usual 4:30-5:00AM hour, instead of mindlessly scrolling through social media apps until there is a blister on my fingers from my pop socket, I decided to get my butt up and do some yoga. So I pulled myself out of my comfy bed, put on my brightest pair of leggings, and found a 60 minute Core Power On Demand class that looked good enough for this morning. Despite the fact that it felt like an eternity and every four seconds I was reminding myself to pay attention and not get distracted, it was a good way to start my morning and focus on the day. Since I still had some time before I had to log on to start work, I decided to take a quick walk down to the overlook by my apartment to see the ocean. Since moving to California I have tried my hardest to not take this place for granted, and to appreciate all of the small things that I craved when moving here (aka being 100 yards away from the ocean). So after donning a bandana as a facemask I walked down to what is usually a gorgeous view overlooking the ocean, palm trees, and the cliffs of Del Mar looking down into La Jolla cove. Instead, today, I saw one singular palm tree, and fog. I could barely see about 15 feet in front of me, let alone down to the gorgeous waves crashing against the beach. Womp Womp.

Instead of being bummed out, upset, or letting this ONE small thing ruin my entire, what I'm sure will be end up being a gorgeous day, the first thing that popped into my brain was: this is faith. Not being able to see something, but still knowing it's there. 

Although I couldn't physically see the ocean, I could hear it, the waves crashing against the rocks, I could feel the mist in the morning breeze. And somehow at that time, on that day, I knew things would be okay. I wasn't sure when, or how, or even what "okay" will look like, but I know it's coming. 

Sometimes it's really hard to have faith in the things that you are uncertain of, and I know right now, there is A LOT to be uncertain of. It's scary, traumatic, anxiety-inducing, and extremely stressful. I know faith isn't the answer to all of our questions, but it's hope that there will one day be a solution, an answer, and that everything will be okay. Or at least better than it is right now. 

One of the blessings of being "less busy" right now is that I have found Brene Brown's podcast "Unlocking Us". If you are a Brene Brown fan, or if you have never heard of her, PLEASE give the podcast a listen. It's full of great gems to get us through this insane time emotionally. I have been a fan of hers for years, and I am constantly reminded of this quote of hers: 


Faith is a place of mystery, where we find the courage to believe in what we cannot see and the strength to let go of our fear of uncertainty.

That morning, staring at the fog, hearing the ocean, and feeling anxious about where we are and we are going, I was able to take a breath. To relax. To smile. To be thankful for what I have (my health, the sun, my cat, food, and a job still), and gave myself grace in the things I am still uncertain of. 

Take care of yourselves and each other, friends, and have a little faith. Much love xoxo 


Top: a normal day from my oceanside cliff
Bottom: my morning view


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