A Reflection from our Staff
Consciousness
In 2007, I experienced a personal health predicament that confirmed in my heart, what my head already knew—I won’t be here forever. In response, I’ve attempted to become a practitioner of consciousness—breathing in deeply, exhaling fully, and caring about the imprint I leave behind—perceiving, colors, words, others, with deep awareness.
But I have found challenges in negotiating that very real yet blurred space where fight-or-flight overrides deliberateness—where unease and doubt have diluted my ideal state of mind; state of being. Life in this time of COVID-19 is a case in point.
The past month has been a frenetic haze as I lean into my new routine. I’m in my home office now and my empty nest is now full again with two college students. I work for two Episcopal churches, so what was previously a well-oiled (and well-negotiated) work schedule—on the clock for Holy Comforter on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; and on the clock for St. John’s, McLean on Tuesdays and Thursdays—is now a rhythmic digital juggling act as we all turn on a dime to care for one another, and to reimagine church. “What day of the week is it today? Are we live-streaming, prerecording, or Zoom worshiping this weekend? Do we go with YouTube or Vimeo? Oh no—the videos aren’t migrating to the website!! Why isn’t that hyperlink working? Did I spell that word correctly? Should I say exactly what I’m thinking? Exactly what time is midday prayer? Oh, and please remind me—what day of the week is it today?”
Last week, in a late-afternoon moment of clarity, I decided to log off, log out, and take a stroll outside with my 19-year-old daughter. She and I walked across the street and entered our neighboring regional park. We traversed the familiar wooded pathways, and then took a detour through some new, and some long-forgotten trails. As we navigated the hilly terrain, I absorbed the light and luster of the sun through the tree canopy and the rocks and roughness, and natural debris underfoot. Were we hiking? I turned my attention to my breath—breathing in deeply, exhaling fully. I felt present; grounded in my body and in my surroundings; connected to something bigger than myself; connected to my daughter—no fear, no urgency, no questions, just consciousness.
In the face of this COVID-19 paradigm, I make a daily effort to find enlightenment; consciousness. Being conscious requires turning down the din of unease and doubt—even though I can’t always turn it off.
Elys McLean
