Every day, more of the same, and as millions of us stay home, we find crevices of beauty and bits of wonder in the monotony. As the pandemic goes on and on, boredom grows and so does creativity. Are you having that experience? It’s okay if you aren’t. It’s my observation of my corner of the world. That the two co-exist makes me aware that my “before” life needed some breathing room, and while the present tense is uncomfortable and marked with loss, I hope I don’t rush to overfill my “after” experience.
Every day, more of the same, in my house looks like more miles run, more meals eaten together, more leftovers consumed in said meals, more noticing the animals’ predictable antics, more photographs made, more work done, more phone calls and video chats, more walks, more exhaustion even though we’re doing so much less, less money, less sleep, more hands washed and washed and washed. We talk a lot about extending grace to each other, to others, especially to ourselves. We try not to avoid the bad news even as we celebrate the good. We do not leave space for the politicizing of a crisis; abuse of platform infuriates me and frustrates Ty.
Every day, more of the same, and also last week I had a few days at the hospital. We spent part of Easter, together but apart with friends on their patio. These small changes make me realize how much my most introverted self values being with others. It hasn’t been so hard to adapt to being at home more; it's been an adjustment seeing people so much less. Knowing that maybe this is actually working to reduce the cost of this pandemic in terms of lives lost continues to motivate me to accept the page that we’re on. I don’t know what healing collectively from such a mess looks like; I know it doesn’t occur in the midst of the crisis. So we wait.
Every day, more of the same, we stay home. We aim to flatten the curve. We hope for a new day dawning when this is a thing of the past. That day will come. In the meantime, we’re all in this together, even as we are, for a time, apart.
