Centering Your Senses When Nothing Makes Sense
Delicious morning coffee made with love
Our world is currently in shambles, y’all.
Before we’ve even had time to put the trauma of Buffalo to bed, this week, we learned that 19 families in Texas will not be able to hug their elementary-school aged children. Two families have lost their beloved mothers. There will be permanent holes left in the hearts of countless people. There will be drawers full of little kid t-shirts & dirt-stained jeans from playing rough outside, that will never be worn again. There will be twin-sized beds that were left undone during the daily morning rush on May 25th; beds that’ll never be slept in by their little owners again. There’ll be 19 mothers who can never kiss their children on their sweaty, damp foreheads after they come home from school again. There will be empty seats at the dinner table. There will be massive, unexplainable grief stirring in countless hearts. There will be moments of silence that lead to moments of sound until the next moment of silence inevitably rolls around. All we can do in our numbness is hope that the next moment of silence isn’t next week; that the next list of victims doesn’t include someone we love.
As a larger society, we are repeatedly being broken down before we’ve had time to mend from the previous tragedy. As a society, we’ve developed trust issues as the very people whom we put into office because they charmed and talked a great deal about family, faith, and football turn a blind eye to devastated families everywhere. We stare in horror as the very people we elected to represent our interests which, you know, include things like going to the grocery store and sending our kiddos to school expecting a mundane, regular report at the dinner table that night, greedily shove money into their pockets and piously participate in moments of silence. As a society, things are looking pretty fucking terrifying.
And just writing those two paragraphs above has me feeling a tightness in my chest again. Woo-sah. The mental load of thinking about this repeatedly can literally render someone enraged, anxious, disconsolate, or worse — inactive and numb.
So what do we do to take care of ourselves in moments when the world makes us wonder if we’re losing it? At times when life seems too overwhelming, here’s a little trick that’s kept me from completely going insane. I have often found refuge in placating my five senses. I don’t know about you, but for me, it’s the simplest things that pick up my mood, really. What does centering your senses look like?
It’s been the touch of my 1-year old’s soft cheeks against my lips. I literally graze my lips back and forth against my baby girl’s fluffy, soft cheeks and I instantly get a boost of joy. If you’ve ever kissed a baby’s cheek, you’ve experienced the sensation of touching a cloud with your lips.
It’s not just the sense of touch that does it for me, either. Early in the mornings, I look outside while it’s still hazy and set my sights on the breathtaking mountains clothed in the trees of the Ethiopian highlands that can be seen from my windows. I take it in, I breathe deeply, and I thank my Creator for the moment I’m having: quiet, earthly, uninterrupted. I make sure to inhale and smell the freshly-roasted Ethiopian coffee when I wake up in the morning. I watch nonsensical cartoons like Grizzy & the Lemmings on Netflix just to hear the sound of my 4-year old son’s infectious laughter. His laugh starts off almost with a gasp, followed by bursts of incessant giggles, a pause to gasp for more air, and more giggles. If it’s super funny, the gasp is that much grander and the giggles go on until he can barely breathe. True, uninhabited music of child merriment.
I recently traveled to Paris and during this trip, I ate croissants (read more about that fun trip here if you’re looking for a quick pick-me-up). Like a copious amount of croissants and other insanely buttery treats. I deliberately chewed each bite of every buttery, flaky French baked pâtisserie that I consumed, purposefully ignoring what the butter is going to do to my arteries and my waistline. While my arteries are undoubtedly a little more clogged and my waistline a little more grand, my heart was a lot more full. As I said, it’s really the simple things. (Caveat: this paragraph has not been endorsed by a medical professional.)
Until a more dignified era rolls around for the human race, I’m going to be focusing my efforts on identifying and being purposeful about the rudimentary, sensory pleasures that have prevented me from completely losing my mind as the ghosts of Sallie Mae, race wars, and ethnic warfare poke out from every crook-and-nanny.