You can disappear until April, everyone will understand.
She told me this with a strange confidence.
I’d just disclosed my recent life stressors. A sudden and traumatic death, a coworker leaving their position. Months of sustained depression after difficult physical fatigue. A year of giant waves crashing over me, one after another. A year where I’d stand up just to be hit in the face again, breathless with salt water in my nostrils and eyeballs.
She offered me what she knew to be true. That we can sit out a few innings. That we can close our books. That we can say a blanket “no.” That we can take time to be away, from the extra stressors that life offers, from the expectations and mania that is our modern social reality. When life seems like Too Much, we have permission to hide away and re-form ourselves.
I’m reminded of nature. The moon wanes and waxes. Flowers bloom and fade. Our cycles are built into the natural order. Pain and joy, depression and elation, quiet months where we can only nurture ourselves in safe spaces.
Let’s see how gentle we can be, how we can meet our difficulties with generous amounts of grace.
When the situation calls for judgment, may we apply compassion
When the situation calls for anxiety, may we apply understanding
When the situation calls for depression, may we apply nourishment
And for as long as it takes, dear one…
You can disappear
You can cancel plans
You can hibernate
You can put your phone on airplane mode
You can show your face only at work and at home for as long as it takes.
As long as it takes to gather strength again. As long as it takes to dust yourself off again. As long as it takes to find a new rhythm.