The Essential Wisdom of Mindful Communication during COVID-19

In this moment of facing the COVID-19 pandemic, lots of new terms are becoming part of the mainstream vocabulary. By now, most of us are familiar with the term “social distancing”, as well as feeling its effects. How might my perception shift with a subtle shift in language. It seems we need to adhere to “physical distancing”, with so many ways to stay “social” and connected. For instance, I can observe physical distance from my elderly neighbors, and still remain socially close to them with a phone call or note. 

I’ve started to notice my preferences, and what is wanted and unwanted in this practice of social distancing. On a recent walk, being mindful of my need to exercise to discharge some of the unwanted, as well as provide a change in scenery, I spotted some newly blooming spring flowers. They arranged themself in a way that brought to mind this concept of social distancing: spaced just enough but still together. It was a lovely recognition, even if it was my own story and way of making sense of what is unknown.

With this in mind, I have been taking time to participate in many of the free teachings and online offers of mindfulness practice. David Treleaven, who has been doing work in the area of trauma-sensitive mindfulness, used a skillful term in his online class, “Practices for Self-Regulation”, as an alternative and opening to what many are hearing described as “sheltering in place.” His terminology offered me a sense of softness, and a chance to let go of the “war cries” of the moment. “Sheltering in place” became “staying in place”. How this simple shift in language reminded me of the age-old wisdom: if you find yourself lost in the woods: stop, stay calm, stay put. It also reminded me of the nature of how things are, including the sporadic rise of viruses on Earth from time-to-time. So it is.

As I write this, I am “staying in place” with my one-year-old cattle dog, PJ, and watching the accumulation of a steady spring snow fall here in Denver. I am remembering that lots is happening in the world around me, even more than the pandemic of COVID19. In fact, today is the Spring Equinox, which is happening early, the earliest it has happened in 124 years. The earth is awakening and crocuses are blooming, only to be covered with a wet snow. Daffodils hang their heads at the weight of snowflakes. My neighborhood has grown quiet. Even as much as I welcome and invite all this to be, I sense my own restlessness, uncertainty, and also dive in to the social connecting that has transpired in creative and responsive ways over this last week. It is encouraging and uplifting to see the compassion and generosity that is transpiring. It is a gift to lean on my practice, as both a student and teacher of mindfulness.

Earlier today, Elizabeth and I had a Zoom meeting, to connect on ideas to offer practice and guidance in this unsettling time. “Staying in place” has been fostered by preparation: we have been here before, both in our regular meditation practice as well as facing life-or-death situations. Even as we notice how some of this flight-fight-freeze response comes up for us, we notice that survival is embedded in our very DNA. This full catastrophe life has afforded experience. Learning how to be still with what is, to stop, ground ourselves through our senses, and stay — this is the antidote that mindfulness practice offers us. It does not matter what it is. The willingness to turn toward what is allows us go gather further resilience and freedom. This is why we venture to share this practice with others.

The snow here has lessened for the moment. I notice the sounds of traffic from the street and how quiet this day has become. I remember some news reports that this change in human behavior has resulted in decrease pollution. I know from my own experience that this situation might lead to a feeling of being “stir crazy” so I ground down into my practice, both formal and informal. Taking time to prepare my dinner, I recognize with gratitude all that is already present for me. I send quiet prayers of lovingkindness to all beings, near and far. I practice patience with an energetic cattle dog who, like me, desires activity, routine, and connection. The thing is: I recognize all that is here within me, and pause to notice too, what best serves me, in this moment. This will change, just as sure as the weather here in Colorado!

So as we “stay in place” let’s look with our heart-minds to see: what is here and what is called for in this moment. In this subtle shift in language, options and safety come to mind. We all want to know what’s next. Sometimes, just as when we find ourselves lost, the answer to “what’s next?” is unknown. The most skillful thing we can do is to stop, stay, and consider our words. It is possible to just be with things as they are. “Stay in place” means to hold my ground. It may be the most stable place to be in this moment.