I am so happy to be back among you here in greater Mankato, and you might naturally think that five weeks away would be enough time to feel rested and recuperated after a challenging year of pandemic pain, sorrow, adaptation, and challenge. Well, it is enough, and perhaps nothing is enough. Periods of rest are not always restful.

I drove hours through pouring rain on the night of Sunday, June 27, only to awake the next day to learn our beloved David Allan had passed from this life. I hiked alone in Ohio, in 90 degree weather and 99.9% humidity, in a state park without cell service and surrounded by houses sporting “F*ck Biden” flags. I sat with my poor mother’s ongoing grief and loss for my father. I witnessed my beautiful daughter make the next moves into her own life. I lived with dear friends, whose 3- and 5-year old sons somehow became 5 and 7 in the two years since I’d seen them in person. I was shocked by a young friend experiencing a stroke and another young friend enduring horrific homophobic treatment in a US airport. This is not the full list, but you get the point. Of course, there were lovely moments of reconnecting with old friends, long meditations, and the reading of novels, lovely moments of rest and calm. And there were all those things inviting anxiety and worry, too.

All this experience reminds me that heightened anxiety is a consequence of living in a pandemic, as we all try so very hard to eke out some normalcy in the midst of the monstrously abnormal. Anxiety might even be an adaptation, giving us a wariness, a “second-thoughtedness,” as we watch COVID infections, hospitalizations, and deaths rise again, despite the efforts of so many to control this disease and its devastating effects.

What I am learning is to befriend my anxiety, to look at its frightened face and get curious about it. I am learning to let myself feel these awful feelings, finding that when I stop denying anxiety, I cling less to it, I am less governed by it. I ask myself about the source of my anxiety and about its deeper sources and about its meaning and significance in my life. In giving my anxiety its space, I find I become less anxious. Maybe this would work for you, too.

But if it doesn’t, seek the support of mental health professionals. It is community that gets us through difficulty, whether the internal community within each of us or the external communities of friends and supports and healthcare workers of many varieties. And our UUFM community is here for all of us, enriched by the presence of each and available for compassionate companionship. May you feel it so.

Blessings, Rev. Rita