My kids went back to school today, 164-ish days after that bleak March week when life changed as we knew it. After all those months of being a full-time mum again, I am now remembering how to concentrate for longer than 20 minutes, and will try to make sense of it all.
Like other mothers, I muddled through lockdown with a perspective which, I hoped, would keep my family sane and dampen unnecessary anxiety. All families have been running on a stress engine that has been idling at a higher level than normal. For many of us, that engine has been revved several times throughout this very weird experience. There has been, and will continue to be, quite a fallout.
Then I lost my mum in April. It was the natural order of things, and in many ways a blessing given her age, advanced kidney disease and dementia. I have only just acknowledged, though, the pain of not being allowed to see her in her last days. There really is only so much FaceTime can do – it is not the hold of a hand.
And then my husband had a health scare in July. At that point it appears that I stopped breathing properly – as I held the space and did ‘strong’ for him and our children. My guardian angels (dear friends, my EFT practitioner buddies, my BodyTalk guru), in turn, held me up and knew, intuitively, what I needed. A text, a distracting swim, distance healing, a proper work out or a hug, they just knew. In August, the good news came, and I started to breathe again – literally gasping lungfuls of air whilst watching our son play cricket on that special Thursday afternoon.
In EFT we talk about how ‘the body keeps the score’, holding trauma and negative experiences in the body. Despite regular EFT sessions with swap partners, I don’t think I realised just how much I had been holding onto this year.
That was until, in an act of bloody-minded defiance, I agreed to a 3km swim across the bay on holiday in Kefalonia. It was a relentless experience with the other coast refusing to move any closer for much of the time. The thing I enjoyed most was that I swam with Jasmine & Eddy. ‘With’ is a loose term as for Jasmine this was a relatively short training swim. For Eddy and me it was a ‘never before, probably never again’ challenge that we had done zero preparation for. I didn’t stretch, and had eaten precisely three nuts beforehand. John, still recovering from surgery, would have loved to join us. He made sure he was on the beach to see us off and welcome us back.
So, all good?
Well yes, except that it turned out I had torn an intercostal (rib) muscle in the process. Now, the scientist in me knows this was due to repetitive reaching, lack of training and no warm-up. The EFT practitioner in me also knows that this year took its toll on my body, showing up in my chest. I have been gifted a (painful) reminder these last three weeks that I need to tap and I need to breathe.
Slowly, deeply and in a way that heals.
There has been much that has been good this year, and I am truly grateful. But I am realising it’s OK to say it has been bloody tough in parts, and to be kind to myself while I process those emotions. I have some EFT sessions lined up with my practitioner friends to do just that.
However you have found this last six months, I hope you find the time for self-care too – beyond food, water, exercise and a brave face. And if any of this resonates and you, would like to explore how EFT could help you, please do get in touch.
x