In the midst of the most uncertain and confusing and challenging and chaotic time many of us around the entire world have ever experienced, I find myself reminded over and over again of the importance of ritual, of ceremony, of routines that we perform intentionally in order to name our emotions and orient ourselves around the values that keep us grounded in the midst of this roller coaster of emotion we didn’t ask to be on but are suddenly strapped into.

Friends,

It is likely that at some point today you felt anxious.

It is likely that at some point today you felt dread.

It is likely that at some point today you felt grief.

It is likely that at some point today you felt disappointment.

It is likely that at some point today you felt fear.

It is likely that at some point today you felt angry.

It is likely that at some point today you felt lonely.

And all of those emotions are completely valid, and good, and so important to look at.

How are you dealing with them? How are you doing? What do you need? What practices have you put in place to care for your mental and emotional well being?

I know I have felt each of these emotions in the past twenty-four hours. Some days I notice some come more intense than others. Some days I do a really good job at paying attention to them, looking at them, naming them, moving through them, reminding myself that I am separate from them and not defined by them. And then sometimes I don’t even notice my anger, and it shows its face when I accidentally snap at my partner. Sometimes I don’t notice my fear and I suddenly find myself in the middle of eating too much ice cream in order to numb. Sometimes I don’t notice my grief and it comes out by me wondering why it sometimes feels so hard to get myself out of bed these days.

The only thing I have found in my life that helps me reduce the not noticing, the forgetting myself, the not processing, and ending up standing in front of the refrigerator with the door open scanning the shelves for the answer to all of my problems,

is ritual.

A daily time that I carve out of the chaos, where I sit. I light a candle. I breathe. I look reality in the face. I breathe. I notice the emotions and thoughts that rise up in me, and I try my best not to shame them or judge them. I breathe. I think,

“Oh look, there is my anger. Welcome.” “Oh look, there is my sadness. Welcome.” “Oh look, there is my anxiety. Welcome.”

For the past couple of months, I have incorporated a new verbal meditation into my contemplative time in the mornings to mix things up, and this specific one has been saving my life these past couple of weeks amidst the constant uncertainty and anxiety wrapped up in all of our lives because of this pandemic.

It might be the most time-relevant ritual I have ever incorporated into my daily practice, and I wanted to share it with you, in case it could be what you need during this time also.

It is an excerpt from Padraig O Tuama’s book of prayer. Don’t let the word “prayer” scare you. Since deconstructing my Evangelical Christian faith, I have a hard time with prayer, but I promise the language in this one is super expansive and inclusive and forgiving despite what language you personally ascribe to Ultimate Reality, God, Divine Consciousness, Love, Existence, or whatever word or non-word you would like to use.

“MORNING PRAYER” by PADRAIG O TUAMA

“We begin our day alone,

honoring this life, with all its potentials and possibilities.

We begin our day with trust,

knowing we were created for loving encounter.

We begin our day with hope,

knowing the day can hold

love, kindness,

forgiveness, and justice.

(A time of silence.)

We recall our day yesterday.

May we learn, may we love,

may we live on.

We make room for the unexpected.

May we find wisdom and life in the unexpected.

Help us to embrace possibility,

respond graciously to disappointment,

and hold tenderly those we encounter.

Help us be fully present to this day.

(A time of silence.)

We pray for all whose day will be difficult.

May we support, may we listen,

may we change.

We resolve to live life in its fullness:

We will welcome the people who will be part of this day.

We will greet God in ordinary and hidden moments.

We will live the live we are living.

(A time of silence.)

May we find the wisdom we need.

God be with us.

May we hear the needs of those we meet.

God be with us.

May we love the life we are living.

God be with us.”

In the most unexpected reality we have ever experienced, in a time where all of the possibilities and potentials of how this pandemic will affect life in the short and long-term are completely up in the air, in a time where our hope feels more weak than our fear, in a time where we are all burdened with difficult days in some way, I have found it helpful to sit and breathe through this prayer,

to remind myself that we were created for loving encounter when I struggle to see the humanity in some of the people I see arguing on Facebook, or when I am baffled by decisions made by some with too much power on their hands,

to orient myself around the love, kindness, forgiveness, and justice that have been birthed through this difficult time and will continue to be birthed as we grow and change together,

to sit with yesterday and then choose to leave it behind because today is all I have,

to make room for every ounce of the unexpected that is already here and every ounce of the unexpected that is to come, and to seek wisdom in that unexpected,

to choose to embrace the possibility wrapped up in uncertainty instead of resist and fear it,

to choose to respond graciously to the disappointment I feel about so many things I looked forward to that are now not going to happen,

to choose to hold those I am able to encounter in person and online tenderly and with care,

to remember those whose day will be more difficult than mine and wish them well,

to resolve to live life in its fullness, even if my reality feels more restrictive and limited than what I’m used to,

to welcome those that will be a part of my day and savor time with them, while also acknowledging all of those who I can’t be with right now and miss dearly,

to greet Divinity in the ordinary and hidden moments I often overlook, like tiny spring flowers growing resiliently through sidewalk cracks, or the return of birdsong outside my window, or how a smile from a stranger six feet away, which I would have barely noticed a month ago, suddenly holds so much more connection and meaning,

to live the life I am living.

Fully embodied. Fully present. Fully embracing the now, even when the now is something that we all wish it wasn’t.

It feels subversive, doesn’t it? Showing up. Surrendering to what is. Making room for the unexpected.

Dancing in it. Creating in it. Weeping in it.

Connecting through it. Innovating through it. Bringing justice and change through it.

Yes, this is a time to be strong, but strong does not mean shoving our emotions down. Strong does not mean trying not to cry even though you are crippled by grief. Strong does not mean only feeling your positive emotions because the rest are too hard and scary.

Maybe this excerpt by Padraig O Tuama is not what you need. That’s fine! I don’t need what works for me right now to work for you, and I’m not threatened if you hate it. But if not this, what is something that can be a grounding ritual for you during this time? Most of us have plenty of time for a twenty minute intentional reflection, or a time for yoga, or a time to deep breathe while you wash the dishes, or focus on being present while folding laundry.

Go back to rituals that you have forgotten about. Create new ones for the person you are now and the time you find yourself in. And show up. To what is going on within you, and to what is going on outside of you.

What are the rituals that have been saving your life during this time? I would love to hear what has been meaningful to you. What poems have wrecked you. What prayers have grounded you. What yoga pose has meant the most to you. What chore you have unexpectedly grown to love. What you have learned recently. What do you do to carve out peace in the chaos?