Dispelling Fear and Anxiety
Last weekend I had the good fortune of being in the company of my friend, singer/songwriter Abigail Dowd and listening to her music live at an outdoor event. It was a refreshing experience not only in witnessing her creativity but observing her resilience as an artist.
When we talked before her performance we discussed how we each managed to endure as artists during the past couple of years since at least a portion of our work and livelihood depended upon human interaction.
We had both contracted Covid early on and recovered after a while. As the world turned upside down we observed everything around us through different lenses and established a view of life and the world that was intensely holy with a reverence for just Being. We resisted fear and anxiety by resting in a solitude that was calming and at times even seemed countercultural. Through slightly different approaches we tapped into practices that affected body, mind, and soul. We sourced alternate ways of seeing that allowed us to be joyful in spite of the overall tenure of the world
Twelfth century philosophers, Hugh of St. Victor and Richard of St. Victor offered humans several ways of seeing which Franciscan priest, Richard Rohr articulates:
. . . humanity was given three different sets of eyes . . . The first eye was the eye of the flesh (thought or sight), the second eye was the eye of reason ( meditation or reflection) and the third eye was the intuitive eye . . . knowing something simply by being calmly present to it (no processing needed!)
We intuitively re-energized our “eyes” in a number of ways through similar means: establishing a routine, increasing our own artistic creativity and productivity, and spending time in nature. The intersection of these three areas brought joy to our lives and because of the ripple effect changed other’s moods as well.
My routine ensured that I got out of bed early, set meals (no snacking), and established designated times for specific activities. Without being too rigid the routine had an ebb and flow which encouraged periods of rest, listening to the Holy Spirit, and reveling in that state of just Being.
The Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre seemed to have also gone through a kind of metamorphosis and unprecedented creative mode. Not only were they producing new works but they were pulling out of the archives older ballets like “Revelations.” They shared videos of interviews with dancers, opportunities for choreographers to talk about their works, and even offered classes on line to learn parts of choreography. Watching the dancers in a variety of venues accommodating change was both thrilling and stimulating—it was life-giving. They met the times with ingenuity and must have known their resilience would inspire and raise others up. I watched a lot of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater!
Time set aside for reading kept my mind engaged as did knitting which also activated my hands. Designing SoulCollage cards eked out from my unconscious deeper feelings so that I had fewer residual hidden fears in my body or subconscious. I wrote about everything in general in a variety of formats, essay, poetry, short phrases with no specific end-goal. And my own choreographic exploration was through my mental screen preserved as needed through notes for future use.
Not much was done outside without Pierre. For sure his extra walks in nature, kept us both active and my attentiveness to his well-being was more than appreciated. Our conversations about life and change were filled with expressions of perked up ears, or a head cocked to the side as I further explained the state of things and why I was around so much more. Even though sometimes it was cold outside allowing the sun to touch my face was invigorating and provided a cyclical consistency of day and and day.
With Rainer Maria Rilke I can assert that it has been a time of reckoning and learning when to be fully active again:
Whether you are surrounded by the singing of the lamp or the sounds of a storm, by the breathing of the evening or the sighing of the sea, there is a vast melody woven of a thousand voices that never leaves you and only occasionally leaves room for your solo. To know when you have to join in, that is the secret of your solitude, just as it is the art of true human interaction: to let yourself take leave of the lofty words and join in with the one shared melody.
—Rainer Maria Rilke, from his Early Journals (1898), translated by Mark Burrows.
Although there was a brief time on re-entry to what was declared normal where I dutifully returned to the busyness that was part of my life prior to Covid, my desire had for that lifestyle soon waned. I’ve earned to lean into the joy of the moments, the small things, the fleeting fragments of vitality that exist and which pass all to quickly. When time literally stops— whether through war, natural catastrophe or epidemics— we are cast into a sea of choices with panic and fear being two. But we can shift our experiences and engage from a deeper place, from the soul and the heart. Life doesn’t have to be a frightening venture if met with openness and Wisdom.
I bet you have your own ways of calming yourself and staying present while checking your internal barometer. As co-creators of a rapidly changing world, staying tuned into a different set of mechanisms that are uplifting—be they music, exercise, friends or a walk in nature—is not only beneficial but essential for us all. Most of all express JOY!