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I’ve seen a lot of Groundhog Day jokes circling. If you haven’t watched it, Groundhog Day is a movie in which a weatherman (Bill Murray) gets caught in a time loop, reliving the same day over and over. Every morning he wakes up and it’s Groundhog Day again. One meme jokes that Groundhog Day has been reclassified as a documentary. If that isn’t a statement on feeling stuck.

For many, this pandemic is an exercise in repetition. Day after day, the same situation. It’s a slog. We feel stagnant. We can’t move forward. Nothing is changing.

It’s fascinating how stuck we can feel, given that we’re living on the surface of a planet rotating at roughly 1,000 miles per hour. A planet hurtling through space at approximately 67,000 miles per hour. A planet spiraling away from the sun a little bit with each revolution, meaning we’re never back in the same position twice. A planet with day and night, with weather, with tectonic plates shifting under us.

And yet, here we are, feeling stuck.

Bill Murray felt stuck. He lived Groundhog Day countless times over, the same day with the same events. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t escape. Yet each time he went through the day, time had passed (in a manner of speaking). It was version ninety-seven, instead of ninety-six. He had been through it one more time, was a little different, had learned some things. So, the next version went a little differently.

In other words, he was in process.

The whole universe is in process. Lest you think something is stagnant out there in distant space, the entire universe itself is expanding. Some of our neighboring galaxies are receding from us at more than 150,000 miles per hour. Not only is the universe in process, the universe is process.

And we, being part of the universe, are process too. Everything you do is part of the vast universe unfolding. With every breath, you are different. You are older. Cells have been born, and cells have died. You have thought unique thoughts you will never think that precise way again. You are further from something in your past, and closer to something in your future.

So with all of this motion, how can we feel stuck?

When we say, “I’m stuck,” we don’t mean that we have become frozen in space-time with no movement whatsoever (though it sure can feel that way). We mean we are suffering, and can’t change it. We can’t move the way we need or want to move. We don’t have the option we’re looking for. We lose a sense of agency, and with that, feel hopeless. We can’t get out.


None of us can will the pandemic over before it’s over. There is plenty we can do, but no magic wand. When we don’t have the power we wish we had, we tend to fall into despair. We find ourselves at the mercy of what is unfolding, and feel that because we can’t change it, it isn’t changing.

But it is changing. It is unfolding. We are unfolding. Here, in our little corner of the universe, we are moving through this. Every second, we are further from when this pandemic began. And every second, we are closer to when it will end.

If you’ve been feeling stuck, here are some things to try:

1. Notice change. What motion can you perceive right now? Whether it’s a bird flying, a second-hand ticking away, clouds drifting, rain falling, your own chest rising with breath, notice some of the changes you can perceive.


2. Question stillness. Stillness is motion our senses can’t detect. We look up at stars that seem fixed because we can’t tell from here that they, too, are moving. We look down at our toenails and can’t see them growing; but they are. What, from where you are, looks still? What motion can’t you see?


3. Recognize process. All around and within us, we can notice the universe in process. Listen to a song. Cook a pot of soup. Observe a cycle of your breath. Notice plants growing. Track the moon’s phases. Watch dust collect on a windowsill. Feel yourself blink. All of these are process. All have process within them, too small for us to see. And all are within process, bigger than we can detect.


4. Locate yourself. Check today’s date. Look at the clock. Right now is the only time it will be this date and time. Wherever you are, inside yourself, on the earth, in the cosmos, you are in a specific spot that will have changed the very next moment. You will never be exactly here again.


5. Remember where you’ve been. When we can’t see the road ahead, it can be difficult to tell that we’re moving forward. But turn around and look behind you. Realize how much has changed, how much you’ve changed. When else have you felt stuck? How can you see from here that you were moving then too?


6. Be in transit. Whatever this moment is for you, you’re about to move into the next one. It may feel different, or it may feel remarkably similar. Maybe you perceive a change, or maybe you don’t. Like looking out an airplane window, sometimes you can see the ground shifting beneath you. But sometimes, at night or over open ocean, you can’t. Yet you know you are moving. You, in transit, are passing through. And this experience, transitory, is passing through you too.

What’s helping you move through this? What's helping this move through you?

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