So many people are growing restless as we reach several weeks into our stay-at-home orders. What is this resistance?
I understand many people have lost their jobs or have been furloughed, so this resistance, this discomfort is certainly understandable. But actually, a woman from my prayer group was somewhat relieved that she was furloughed for a month because she hadn't had a month free from her job (even on vacation) in many years.
What is underneath our resistance is telling.
Is it that we don't like "someone else" telling us what to do? What is it about ourselves that makes us question authority, and when is it valid to do so?
What do we know that the authorities do not? Are we so confident in our beliefs that we are willing to risk getting sick and possibly get someone we love sick? Are we ready to shoulder that responsibility?
Our resistance can teach us what we value. Is making money more important than our health--and the health of others? Or is it on a more superficial level, where we can't tend to our indulgences?
Many of us are posting "quarantine hair," which is actually funny, because we relate to it. But are our biweekly massages or touch-ups at the hair salon really essential to the wellbeing of the world? They may make YOU feel good, but what would that matter if you knew the aesthetician making an hourly wage got sick, couldn't afford health insurance, and must stay home?
Do the things you miss really matter?
Our resistance can also teach us a lesson in resilience. I heard complaints about triathlon races being canceled, which is selfish enough, but can we maybe take a break from the routine?
I remember struggling with this when I had back surgery. I was forced to "stay-at-home" with no activity (besides walking) for two weeks. After so many years of day in, day out training, I had to learn to accept that some things were no longer in my control.
My routine, as much as I had enjoyed it, was hurting me inside and outside. When it came to a complete halt, my resistance--my desire to get back to training--was challenged. I'll never forget waiting for three hours on an operating table before my surgery. Having no control when I would be wheeled into surgery tested my resilience.
I had a choice--I could complain about it, which wouldn't do me any good because I had no one but myself to complain to. Or I could accept things the way they were, allowing myself to breathe and relax in the moment.
Every experience in our lives teaches us. We often breeze through the easy experiences, but the challenging ones will cause us to slow down. Can we silence our voice of resistance to listen what our experience can teach us?