Remember to Breathe
One of my favorite activities has always been grocery shopping. Wandering through the produce aisle picking out just the right apples and carrots; leisurely weighing the merits of this Wisconsin cheddar vs. that one. Do I prefer a sharp, nutty cheddar with a creamy texture or a sharp, tangy one with a crumbly texture? Before the pandemic I could lose hours to such deliberations.
But not now. Now I plan excursions to the grocery story with tactical precision. Lists of only the most essential items, arranged by their location in the store—no lingering, no deliberating. Get in, get out. I’m constantly in a state of heightened awareness, hyper-vigilant to maintaining the magical six feet of distance from those around me. I avoid whole aisles if they’re too crowded. We didn’t need cereal this week, right?
I don’t think it’s just me. Maybe trips to the grocery store don’t trigger your “survival is in jeopardy” mode but walking down a crowded sidewalk or having your kid in a crowded classroom does. If so, it’s hardly surprising. Our brains and bodies don’t function optimally under a state of chronic stress and that’s what the last year has been: mini doses of unpredictable stress all the time. No wonder venturing into public sets my teeth on edge.
I remind myself that it won’t always be like this. As the pandemic recedes, I look forward to a time when I can leave my house again without moving through the world in a state of barely contained panic. Until that day comes, I try to remember to breathe.
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