4 Lessons Learned from COVID-19
As I developed my coaching practice, the approach that worked best for most clients was interventive. Parents came to me with a specific concern, and I advised them on ways they might respond that were in keeping with their stated parenting values. The majority of the problems presented were issues I had dealt with many times over -- either in my own parenting or as an educational therapist and consultant. In that sense, I coached from a 10,000-foot view.
Then in March, “go-to-mom-and-parenting coach” met “global pandemic.” Parents, myself included, were in uncharted waters and the waves were sky high. The need for safe harbor grew, and I responded
Yet as the weeks of the pandemic dragged on with no end in sight -- and equally seismic racial and political issues rocked the U.S. -- I received a lot of call, from clients, colleagues and friends.
I picked up the phone whenever it buzzed. Every parent I knew was shell-shocked, adjusting work and childcare roles to survive in a locked-down world, and scrambling for answers and support. Contrary to the advice I gave my clients, I began to slowly abandon self-care. Forget filling the gas tank; even the fumes ran out. Eventually it was unsustainable -- and I needed to address it.
As the first year of the pandemic drew to a close, I reflected on what I’ve learned (in most cases, re-learned!). I’m sharing the most salient takeaways in my first post of the new year. My guess is I’m not the only parent in need a refresher as we continue to face down the pandemic in 2021.
No one is immune to parenting problems -- not even parenting coaches.
When the pandemic hit, I was thrust into a world exactly like the ones my clients faced. I, too, had to create a family plan to address the risks of the coronavirus, which was rumored to be both highly contagious and deadly. My personal situation was eerily similar to clients with college-aged kids who had to decide if it were safe to send them back to school come Fall. My middle daughter, a newly minted grad and I had to negotiate what the coronavirus rules would be when she moved home to take a job nearby. And like another subset of parents, it was up to me to figure out how to support elderly and/or out-of-state family members with ongoing health issues, when contact with and travel to them were deemed unsafe.
I was humbled. All parents, myself included, were struggling with not having answers to the tidal wave of questions we had. We were all forced to make decisions in the face of a tsunami of information that was changing by the day. Nothing was predictable, and no amount of research made it less so.
The situation was antithetical to how I had always made parenting decisions and practiced my work. Down I came from that 10,000-foot perch. I was 100% “in it” with every parent with whom I worked.
Being so humbled -- and feeling afresh the vulnerability of parenting -- was a gift. For me, the visceral identification with my clients’ states-of-mind was a type of grace that rallied my best self as I tuned in to them in my practice. For clients, seeing me wrestle with the same decisions they were facing, humanized me. They were comforted when I reiterated again and again that we were all doing the best we could in the moment. Off I came from any perceived pedestal I might have been on. And in the process we all served our children, who were witnessing first-hand just how much of life is impossible to know, predict or plan for.
Even if you’re isolating…don’t isolate!
I had a high rate of anxiety about catching COVID-19 (still do). From the start I planned to isolate, even if it flew in the face of how others were comporting themselves. It was the right decision for me, but it had consequences.
First, it meant I would no longer rely on outside help as I had pre-pandemic. Overnight, my at-home workload increased substantially.
Isolation also took away the myriad social and personal interactions I was accustomed to and enriched by in daily life. By relying on contact-less delivery, I effectively eliminated visits with the many people who lived and worked in my neighborhood. Business meetings, with their introductory chit-chat and welcoming hugs, were replaced by Zoom calls where people preferred to simply get down to business. I didn’t see my partner for months, because he was in contact with his 90-year-old father who was at high risk so we created separate pods.
Historically I’d been no ace at articulating or getting my needs met, but in the face of COVID-19, I contracted further. I reached out less. Didn’t make calls. An invitation from a friend to go for a walk -- even masked and socially distanced -- was inconceivable. I simply said No.
Eventually, my loneliness forced me to reckon with the difference between isolating from the virus and isolating from people. I gathered people I could rely on into a virtual cohort. I ratcheted up my communication with a group of high school best friends -- long on a group text chain-- because they felt like family and I found the increased contact comforting.
These days, when I get an invitation I’m not comfortable with, I know to say “I would like time with you…I just don’t know how to do it safely. Can we figure that out together?”
Self-care reduces stress -- and it’s time-expanding to boot!
I once gave a talk about dealing with stress to a professional women’s group. Back then I handled most everything with the confidence that I would successfully navigate life’s inevitable pitfalls -- or pivot when the need arose.
Then came COVID.
Because it descended like a shroud on top of the tensions of modern family life, pandemic stress felt aggressive, wanton and out of control. Every parent I knew had to completely overhaul family life in an atmosphere of utter fear.
As a coach, I effectively help clients deal with their stress, but I was trying to manage my own solo. Since I was busier, I cut back on exercise. Because of that, I was not sleeping well. Before long, the self-care items on my calendar began to feel more like onerous to-dos rather than the affirming, time-expanding practices I knew them to be.
The addition of two major life changes -- returning to school for another credential and selling the home where I raised my children -- complicated matters exponentially. Because they were time-sensitive, I had to take them both on. Even in normal times they would have added stress to my life. But dealing with them during COVID forced my hand.
My body and my emotions let me know things were out of sync and I resolved to act. I checked in with a therapist to get grounded. I started attending a bi-weekly Zoom meditation group with some women friends. I upped my physical activity. I started keeping a gratitude journal. I signed up for a Whole30 group to start the new year focused on healthy eating with a supportive cohort.
Life is a mystery.
I never imagined a global public health capacity of this nature could happen in my lifetime. Or even in my children’s lifetime. Yet its existence, while exceedingly frightful and difficult at times, has also underscored the immense role families play in society, as well as the resilience which we are all capable of - parents and children alike. The challenges we have all faced, and continue to face, will shape and define us. I for one, want to learn from this experience and emerge a better version of myself. I also want to afford myself the grace and compassion I so readily offer others as I navigate these uncharted waters.