Being healthy, both mentally and physically, is a consistent process. I’ve come to learn that as I’ve grown older. It feels as though it’s exacerbated by the pandemic; we’re worn out, beyond our stressing point, and collectively tired.

I too easily slip into feelings of pity. It’s worse than when I succumb to loathing, because that usually snaps me out of it through fire. But sometimes, I also recognize the opportunity for the harsh truth, and thus for gratitude. It could be worse, and so many people have it so. Is there any true reason to experience pity?

This is how we get out of any effervescent funk as a group: realizing that others have it far worse. Embracing the harsh reality in the moment, and being grateful that it’s not that bad. We can get through this. And it’s only possible together.