It’s okay not to know what’s next.
It’s okay not to respond right away, not to decide anything today—or tomorrow.
It’s okay not to rush in first or answer the call to action, it’s okay to be stunned, to freeze in place, not to understand.
It’s okay to be afraid to leave the house, even just to take out the trash. It’s okay to need to sleep with your clothes on, with a bra, or with something under your pillow that makes you feel safer. It’s okay to check every moment if the kids are still in bed, if the noise you heard was an alarm or a motorcycle. It’s okay to be afraid of voices outside the window, or a door slamming shut.
Being afraid to open windows because someone might come in, but also afraid to close them because you won’t hear what’s happening outside. It’s okay to fortify the house as if you’re living on a deserted island.
It’s okay to give the kids all the snacks. It’s okay to let go, for a while, of the goals you set for yourself for the new year—they can wait, and honestly, half of them weren’t realistic anyway, come on…
It’s okay to feel that everything you thought you knew about things, about life — doesn’t apply right now, or that you don’t have access to it all. Your connection with yourself will be renewed; right now it might be too difficult, like a lost internet connection. It’s okay to cry, not just at the end of the day.
It’s okay not to understand any of it.
It’s okay if today includes only:
Breathing, eating, drinking, hugs.
If all four happen, it will be wonderful—beyond and above given these circumstances.
