Dishes. Laundry. Vacuuming. Yard work. Coffees. Walks. These are the things that have filled my days in ways that bring me joy. These rituals – the cleaning and folding, the emptying and putting away, the slow catching up – they help keep me focused on what I can manage. There is so much in the world right now that I cannot manage. So I am searching for what is simple and true.
I am seeing so much anger and hatred out there. On television. In the papers. On social media. Especially on social media. I keep hoping for children, vacations, animals, and things that make me smile or even laugh. But I keep seeing bitterness and untruths, name-calling and manipulation. I go back and forth between feeling the need to know everything that is being said and feeling the need to silence all of it. Both are costly. I go back and forth between trying to have conversations and feeling like dialogue is meaningless in the current climate. More often than not, the efforts and their absence leave me saddened.
Engagement is hard. And it’s necessary. So I do it selectively and in incredibly small doses.
The “out there” feels lost. But the right here? I’m loving the right here. I’m loving the time at home, the time with Dave, the time in the pool, the time having coffee with my parents, the time working in the yard, the time in our parks, the time spent walking for the sole purpose of getting some air, and the time on the porch with the people who choose to occupy space with us. These are precious moments.
One positive of this pandemic has been that we are living more locally. We are functioning more in just our community. We are truly living and working and resting in this space. Our interactions are more intentional and more intimate. Our choices are more deliberate.
It might be a smaller space than I am used to, but it is a beautiful one. I’m planning to spend most of time days here, occasionally checking in on the “out there” and always, always wishing it well.
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