This morning I woke up in a huge holiday apartment and I was shattered; the bed was uncomfortable and left my hips sore as I woke.
I rolled out of bed and realised I could see the ocean to the north out of the high window above my bed. I smiled and then I remembered how the same blind I had lifted to see this view had periodically banged against the window and woken us both up.
I was trying mightily to enjoy this holiday, this being the first time we'd travelled interstate and on a plane in almost 12 months, but far out was I tired. I recalled waking to an alarm at 5 am yesterday--after not enough sleep again--to pack, drive to the airport, navigate crowds and get on another plane.
And then I remembered my privilege.
I remembered that my fatigue must be nothing like what my fellow Ukrainians must be experiencing right now. It must be nothing like the challenges that so many Australians are facing who are in towns that are underwater after days and days of rain. It must be nothing like the difficulty my friends recovering from Covid may be feeling.
And I felt guilty. The thought in my head was:
"You should be grateful. Quit complaining."
Ah... well that's all well and good, but that doesn't help: it only makes me feel worse. And that's when I remembered that this is what I've been taught. This is what so many of us have been taught:
"Someone else is worse off than you. So you should quit complaining and just be happy with what you've got."
It's taken me a long time to unravel this programming and, clearly, this is still a work in progress. Yet even through my fatigue this morning I caught it quickly. So let me unravel it for you as I sit here drinking a couple of big glasses of warm water and attempt to slowly wake up.
Here are the actual facts:
I am on holiday. I am safe. I am exploring somewhere new each day. I am spending time with my partner. We have a lot of freedom to go where we want when we want. We do not have to work at all for the next couple of weeks.
When I think about all this I feel: lucky.
Now... this is also true right now:
I am very tired from so much moving, doing and travelling. I am tired from sleeping in unfamiliar beds with pillows that hurt my neck. I am tired from making so many decisions each day from when to walk and when to rest, what to eat and in which restaurant or cafe, which town to explore and for how long, and even which lane to get into when driving on unfamiliar roads.
And I also feel: extremely grateful that my partner's family and our friends who live in these areas of Australia that are flooded right now are all okay 🙏
And I feel compassion for everyone who is displaced by too much water (up north) or due to an invasion of their land (in Ukraine) or due to massive uncertainty with Covid-related complications (in so many places).
If I let myself think about all the people who are worse off than me in this moment I would simply crumble from feeling so much... overwhelm, so much... powerlessness, so much... guilt for having everything that I do have.
So on the rare occasion that I catch myself spiralling like this, I ask myself to remember the present moment.
I remember to be here now, where I am, with the light morning breeze coming in the open balcony door.
I remember to be with my breath as I draw it in through my nose and into my lungs and then let it out my nose once more.
I remember to be with the sounds of the birds as they fly by this big window and call out to one another from the air.
And I remember that gratitude cannot be forced.
Yes, I can squash down my fatigue and not share how I'm feeling but that doesn't actually make me feel grateful. Yes, I can put my focus on how difficult it must be for so very many people around the world in all manner of situation--including but not limited to those in Ukraine--but if I am not accepting and allowing space for my own truth (in this case, fatigue) I cannot actually be helpful to anyone else.
And then I remember my favourite word: a word that can be used as an amazingly effective way to nurture myself and cope during difficult times...
That word? That word is "and".
Here are some examples of how I use it:
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.
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I am on holiday. I am lucky.
AND
I am tired.
.
.
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I am on holiday. I am safe.
AND
Many of my fellow humans are under direct threat right now.
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.
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I am on holiday. I have an immense amount of freedom.
AND
Many of my fellow humans are trapped in circumstances beyond their control.
.
.
.
Being human and having compassion for others while allowing yourself to have your own experience is a trip. Few people I know do this well but I think it's a vitally important skill that benefits all of humanity when we practise it.
It's a trip to think about the contrasts and the complexity if you attempt to spend more time being with what is. But here's what I see:
All things coexist simultaneously.
There is good and bad, better and worse, wonderful and awful.
And they exist all together, all at once, all in one big mess called "life".
It is not one or the other, it is both or even "all" things.
We live in a world of "and" not "either/or".
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.
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The war in Ukraine, the floods in Australia, the ongoing Covid-related challenges and all the fear and anger and confusion that is being experienced by those directly affected do not negate my fatigue on my holiday or your sadness about your own situation at home or another person's anger about how they're being treated at work; they coexist.
So if you've read this far I want to invite you to remember the word "and" and allow yourself the grace, the kindness and the compassion to recognise that your pain has a place too. This is not a competition for who is in the most pain, there is space for everyone's experience.
And your good fortune has a place too; you don't need to feel guilty if where you are is safe and sunny and beautiful. You're allowed to enjoy that freedom, that safety, that beauty right now.
Further to this, the benefit of allowing yourself to feel your own pain, fatigue, sorrow or whatever heaviness you're feeling is that the more you allow it to be the faster it will evaporate. Then your ability to feel gratitude can return and your ability to become even more useful and helpful to others in need also returns.
And the benefit of allowing yourself to feel good--if your personal situation is wonderful right now--is that your body will become so well resourced with feel-good chemicals, health and vitality that you become an even better resource to support others who are feeling challenged for any reason.
So if you're feeling guilty (or ashamed) as you hear news about the situations that others in right now or find yourself thinking you "should" feel (insert emotion you've been told you should feel that you actually don't), then I invite you to pause and see if you can allow what is to be. And recognise that you're allowed to feel whatever you feel as you experience your own life regardless of the experiences others around you are having. Because you exist and so do they, and all parts of the whole are valid.
