No eye contact. No words from my lips. The only voice I heard was the recording played each night, and the voice in my head.

No screen time. No loud sounds. The only activities I could enjoy without pain were sleeping and meditating.

No interest in anything. No control of my tears. The only fact I knew was that I was miserable.

No familiar faces. No hugs. The only comfort I had was my small tent outside on the lawn.

Isolation. This is not a new experience for me. What’s more, the current state of isolation I find myself in feels easy, even luxurious, compared to my previous stints of being alone. Being isolated does not need to also mean being alone, and being alone does not necessarily mean you are isolated. During this unique time in our world, I have been reminded of four very different periods of isolation I have gone through. One voluntary, another caused by my own doing in an accident, and the other two were completely out of my control. 1) a 10-Day silent meditation course 2) a concussion 3) depression 4) being told my mom has cancer while on the other side of the world.

First of all, I must address the hypocrisy around the response I would get to sharing that I completed this 10-day silent meditation course. “Oh I could never do that!” each person would remark with shock. And yet, I constantly look around this world at people who stare at their phones and computers all day, scrolling social media, and emails, communicating only with their fingers, looking at a piece of man made technology, rather than communicating with their voices, looking at a human being’s eyes. After hearing of these Vipassana classes from a friend in May of 2014, I joined my first class in August that year. Why? I saw it as a social experiment. One of my two majors at University was Sociology and the idea of attempting to not speak or make eye contact with others, for more than a week, and be completely engulfed in this environment, was absolutely fascinating to me. Oh yeah, there is meditation also, right? Well, I had taken a mindfulness meditation course while at Google called Search Inside Yourself, and I enjoyed the meditation, so it sounded like a nice accompaniment.

To give you an idea of what it was really like, take the current situation you are in. If you have a partner, or roommates, imagine there are at least 5 of them. Now, take away your ability to speak to any of them. Then, take away your ability to smile at any of them, or make eye contact. Take away any paper you have been using, or phone, or computer, or book. How about that park, your bike, your running shoes? Take all of those away. Do you eat meat? Take that away. Do you love a nice hearty dinner? Take that away. Are you working remotely? All of those hours you are working remotely, those will be hours you are sitting in a hall, on the ground, meditating. Oh, and work starts at 4am, signaled by your wake-up call which is a beautiful chime and gong.

Can you imagine it?

When I was not meditating in the hall, I was either moving slowly on the small dirt walking path, crying on the deck of my tent platform in response to the internal realizations I was having, or laying on the cement watching bees pollinate. When the course started, I wore my slip-on shoes, and would speed walk down the path, determined to get in a workout. By the end of the course, I was walking barefoot, at a snail’s pace, meditating on each muscle and tendon in my body propelling it forward. I was not the only one who cried alone. I heard and felt the pain of others. And there was nothing I could do about it. No hugging. No comfort. No phone calls or video calls. Well, there was one thing. I sat there and I sent loving energy to that person. I know, it sounds so hippie. But, imagine that someone is crying within 10 feet of you. You hear their sobs and sniffles. You are right there and you are struggling emotionally as well. You ache to help. So, in your head you say, “please let them feel my love. Please let them know she is not alone. Please wrap your arms around her and hug her.” And yes, I watched bees. It’s just like watching a nature documentary, but it’s in real life. It was wonderful. My days were filled with sleeping in my tent, vegan breakfast and lunch with just an apple and tea for dinner, walking in the dirt, meditating, crying, and watching the bees. For 10 days, until the silence was lifted.

Then, one of the most overwhelming physical and emotional experiences of my life. 

My voice seemed to not move quick enough for my thoughts. And everyone else’s voice! My goodness they were the most beautiful gifts I had ever heard. More melodic than any symphony and more poetic than a love song. “Is that what your voice sounds like!?” I screeched, lacking control in the volume and intensity of my own voice. We were giddy, like prepubescent girls on a sleepover. 

Think about the qualities of connecting that are being taken away from you right now. What do you miss the most, truly? You may not even realize it now, but when we come back together, something as simple as a high-five, or hugging your friend, or sitting next to them on the couch to watch a movie, or having dinner together, is going to feel absolutely astounding. And I hope that you appreciate these gifts so fully that you never take them for granted, again.

There are endless options still at your fingertips. If you were only able to meditate, sleep, and watch bees for this whole time, you would be fine. So, with all of the other activities you can be doing, take advantage of them! Take advantage of this time. Put down the phone. Just because there is not another body to connect with in person, does not mean there is not a body to connect with. Maybe connect a little more with yourself. Look around the room. What do you see that you can do? 

Struggling to come up with ideas? I got you. My next post will include the first round of activity ideas.