This has been my third day with a back injury. It has been a lesson in how much we take our ability to bend and stretch for granted. You might expect that I'd feel more than a little depressed by this turn of events, but that's not the case.
I accept my current condition, and feel compassion for the lower back muscles I have mistreated, which now refuse to cooperate.
All of us right now are having to practice acceptance, to some degree. From what I see, some seem to be struggling with this. There have been attempts to blame and shame others, not just for the spread of the virus, but for many other things too.
Certain movements have stepped up their campaigns to blame the oppression of one group on the members of another, and individuals are clinging to specific aspects of their identity, wielding them as weapons against those who don't share the pigeon hole. It all serves to separate us from each other, and create conflict where it need not exist.
In relative terms, an injury to my back doesn't make me feel depressed. I can't say the same for how this crisis is being used to further the agenda of those who use fear, hatred and anger to achieve their desired outcome. That's wholly depressing. It's a clear reminder that it's impossible to make peace with those who aren't at peace with themselves.
I try to adhere to my commitment to acceptance and compassion. Admittedly, I'm not always successful in that. It's starting to feel like a lonely place, to be honest. I suppose I have to accept that people project their inner conflict onto others. It's likely that I'm also guilty of this - actually, I'm acutely aware that I have been guilty of this. If we accept this projection of inner conflict as a sign of suffering, it's much easier to offer compassion to those we might otherwise supply with another perceived enemy.
