EMBRACING SOFTNESS AND HOPE
by Arielle Juliette
"In the darkest of times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength." -Uncle Iroh, from The Last Airbender
I was rewatching one of my favorite shows last night when this was stated, and I had to write it down as it just felt so applicable to the times. Hope, comfort, and fun and can sometimes feel so far away, and calls for personal strength usually revolve around pulling oneself up by the boot straps, being productive and bettering yourself, being a rock, being hard. Hopefulness can feel disingenuous or overly optimistic. But sometimes, softness is exactly what the moment calls for. Hope is a gift that we can give ourselves through embracing softness, an oft-neglected form of inner strength.
Softness comes in so many varieties. Softness can look like patience with ourselves and those closest to us right now, and understanding that this stress can bring to the surface the most challenging aspects of our and our loved ones' personalities. Times of uncertainty and fear can launch our trauma responses, calling on us to fight more frequently or vehemently with those we are living with or the "other" in the wrong, whoever that might be. Or it might call on us to freeze, making it hard to get out of bed or do basic tasks. Perhaps it calls us into flight, putting us into so much action we don't have time to think, or having us spending lots of time "flying" to other places through books, movies, games. etc. These are responses that all people have had to stress since the very beginning of humanity, and softness and gentleness can help calm these lizard- brain- deep biological responses.
Softness can be extending acceptance to our bodies if they change under these new circumstances, becoming bigger, smaller, or softer as they do their best to keep us running as functionally as they can. To quote Megan Crabbe, AKA Bodyposipanda,
"Next time you go to beat yourself up for the changes in your body, take a breath and see it from your body's perspective. Everything is scary and weird, anxiety is higher, routine has gone, food availability has changed and every day all your body is trying to do is carry you through this the best that it can.
Your body doesn't understand why it would need to look like an Instagram model at the best of times, let alone during a pandemic. Washboard abs aren't your body's priority, protecting you is. And if that means looking a little different, getting softer, bigger, smaller, or staying the same, I don't think it deserves to be made into an enemy for it. Your body deserves the same kindness it tries to show you every day."
Allowing softness in our bodies, or allowing ourselves softness with how we feel about our bodies, can be challenging under the best of circumstances. But if there's one good thing that can be taken away from this crappy situation, it's that it can give us a unique perspective on what's most important in life. For many of us, having the perfect body or spending an inordinate amount of time in pursuit of perfect health doesn't bring as much joy as spending time with loved ones, hugging a friend, helping a neighbor, or pursuing a hobby. Times like this can bring into perspective what truly brings richness to life, allowing us to let go of the ties that bind us to goals like perfection, which don't actually bring about the security they promise. Allowing time and softness in this way gives space for more hope to creep in as we shift focus to what truly nourishes us.
Softness can also be allowing ourselves the space to be unproductive, to sit with the suck, to grieve. Sometimes, the stronger option is to just sit and have that cry instead of cleaning the house. Softness can be letting go of goals and deadlines that don't ultimately matter or bring any more joy to our lives. Or, like smelling a rose growing amidst a sea of thorns, softness can be allowing ourselves appreciation for the simple pleasures in life, which persist even under the most trying of circumstances.
Allowing in the hope is an act of softness and vulnerability. There's no doubt that this is a highly stressful and volatile time; all feelings are valid, and all deserve to run their course. It’s absolutely normal to feel powerless and afraid, and if you're feeling that way, you are certainly not alone. Hope can exist along with the entire spectrum of emotions. Hope can help quiet the internal storm. While gearing myself up for the first live stream class Dance Life offered, I lit a tiny ember of hope by listening to the song "Good News" by Apashe, which has a line, "and now, I rise above you." I listened to that song over and over before I went live. That ember carried me through that day, to the point where the ember could be lit into a flame through the collective hope of those still attending Dance Life. Sometimes, it takes something as seemingly inconsequential as a trap song, or a dance class, a poem, a quick exchange with a good friend, to bring hope to life.
Allowing softness is a form of inner strength, and allows more space for hope. Being gentle with ourselves and others, finding small joys, finding as much connection with each other as we can, letting go of the less important things, are all fertile grounds from which hope can spring. I know for certain that I wouldn't be persevering with hope had I not done all these things along the way. I want to leave you with this hopeful image of a being who found resilience just by simply existing. Let this sheep be a lesson in the strength of softness!
