A silent monster has been sitting on my chest for days now, pressing in and squeezing my lungs. Sometimes he gets up and leaves for a while and I wonder if it was all in my head. Is it anxiety turned panic attack? Or is it the dreaded virus?

My eldest has finally come home and we are all self-quarantined together for 2 weeks, to make sure he hasn’t carried anything with him from California. We think he had the virus way back in February but was not able to be tested. But that is another story.

There is a happy comfort in all 5 of us being back under one roof. A crazy testosterone haze hovers as laughter and chaos zigzag our days. Each of us trying to find a quiet corner when we need to study, work or retreat. It is both glorious and difficult to all be in one space.

The silent monster

In an effort to appease the silent monster on my chest, I amp up my yoga and meditation. I take walks in the park, journal and pray. I rearrange the bedroom to create a retreat that is both peaceful and beautiful. With intention, I do things that normally bring peace and calmness. I create meals and snacks which are devoured by the humans around me. I read and rest. And yet, the monster keeps coming back.

A friend of mine suggests that they are panic attacks. So I call my doctor to ask for help and her gentle voice soothes me.

I do everything in my power, in this time and place, to rid myself of the monster, but it is still there. I gulp potions of vitamins, drink pots of tea. The monster gets up and wanders off for a bit. I feel relief for a moment, only to be followed by body aches and chills that leave me feeling as if I have a fever but I do not. My head aches and I take more naps in one day than I normally take in a month. I delegate dinner prep and wrap myself in a robe, shutting myself in my room.

By morning, the aches have lessened but the monster is back on my chest. I don’t feel panic but I struggle to take deep breaths.

Ancient wisdom

Days turn into a week and I lean in, trying with all of my being to listen to the ancient wisdom my body is speaking to me. This silent monster often comes with no apparent or rational reason. My therapist told me the other day that this is normal; that anxiety attacks can hit out of nowhere and for no rational reason.

So I’ve decided to let my body be scared when it is scared. Even if my mind is at peace, even if I’m doing all the right things, it still senses reason to fear.

I’m not going to let it run or ruin my life. But I am going to let it be what it is. Without ignoring it. Or dramatizing it.

Acknowledging all I feel

The truth is, I am scared. Even if I know it will all be okay in the end. I am scared and I am grieving. Like one of my friends said this week – “humans were not made for this”. We were made to be together. To celebrate and weep together.

So whatever you are feeling today – fear, anxiety, grief, sorrow, despair – let it come. You cannot heal from something that you do not first acknowledge and give space to sit.

While my body reacts to this invisible monster that grabs my heart and shakes it around inside my chest and pushes my lungs until I struggle to breathe deeply, I acknowledge it. I comfort the little girl huddled in the corner of my soul that doesn’t know if it will be okay in the end. Like Russian dolls that stack inside one another, I see a whole line of me – from tiny child to ancient crone. Each one embracing the one before her until all of me is loved by all of me.

And I am okay. I don’t know the end of this story. I know I am not done with the grief and questions. Yet right now, I sit and let the silent monster sit with me. I show it around, point out the door. But instead of trying to force it out, I give it a tiny smile and go back to embracing the crone and the child and all that sits between.

This is an unprecedented time for all of us. If you need someone to listen, I am here.