Beginning to feel like this is normal

It’s March 31st, and tomorrow it will be a new month. But the pandemic will still be here.

The guidance for staying home that lasted until the end of March will be renewed. (In many cases it already has).

That’s not a surprise to me. What is a surprise to me is realizing that the people I assumed I would get together with “when this passes” I may need to find a way to connect with over a call.

It’s a surprise to think that no-rush conversations with friends, family group chats, and time alone may continue.

It’s a surprise to think about how I can’t stay in emergency-mode, even as survival-mode, be-careful-mode, will continue.

The adrenaline is draining away, but the low-level stress has become a constant presence. The thrill of refreshed relationships is wearing off, but the comfort of being seen and known is giving me the courage to keep being vulnerable.

It’s all here: the highs and the lows, the noble and the base, the exciting and the mundane.

As April 1st makes its arrival, a new flavor of sadness is settling over me, and a new sense of wonder is giving me life.

New commute, an evening walk

I’ve started going for evening walks.

It’s a way to get fresh air, to break away from the screens and the pinging inbox.

Just like my previous commute, some days I feel like listening to a podcast. Other days I want to let my mind wander.

Some days I feel anxious, other days I feel content.

I follow the same route, so I don’t have to decide which way to turn.

I’ve started recognizing other people who are out walking, too. We nod, or say hello. We try to minimize the awkwardness of keeping our distance, going out into the street to leave space.

Sometimes I don’t feel like negotiating, so I slow my gait, or cross to the opposite side of the road.

These days I’m not worried about how long I’m out. I remind myself I have time. I don’t need to rush.

I let myself go the long way ’round.

Writing in the time of COVID-19

I’m bringing back my blog, because I need space to write and think and speak the feelings and thoughts and observations that are swirling around in my head and heart these days.

Perhaps you can relate.

The world of social media has always intimidated me. There’s so much good, but also so much noise. And I find it difficult to linger on the good, when the platforms are designed to scroll, to browse, to take in as much as you can.

So I’ll be here.