Enduring

simple pleasures: I discovered chai lattes

Last Thursday, I was agitated. And then I felt deeply sad. Then, I was agitated again. Nothing in particular was wrong. We were all as well as can be expected right now. In other words, nothing specific happened that triggered these feelings. I’m usually pretty in touch with my emotions and internal experiences but this time, I couldn’t figure it out. I mean…we all have reason to be agitated and sad and angry and every other emotion on the spectrum right now but it felt like it was more than that.

That evening, as I was changing into my pajamas, I was overwhelmed with the feeling to bolt, to literally run away from home. But instead, I sat down, closed my eyes, took some deep breaths, and a thought popped into my head as clearly as if someone had said it aloud, “You need to do something more than endure this.”

I last wrote here in April, over five months ago. At that time, I was facing the moment right in front of me and doing what was needed. I made sure our pantry was stocked and that we had all the medications we might need if we became ill. I was cleaning and cooking and learning to make sourdough because there was a shortage of yeast. I was providing. I remember how productive I felt then, like a pioneer preparing for the worst.

I thought we would endure two or three difficult months and then it would be over. We would get through it. But two or three months has now stretched into four, five and six months with no end in sight and I’m still enduring. Without meaning to, I put life on hold.

Last week, with that epiphany, I realized that I have to do something. It’s not enough to endure. I have to write even though my attention span is worse than a cracked out squirrel. I have to make plans so that I have things to look forward to and get out and do things even though sometimes it feels easier to stay home. I need to pay attention and find those little moments of joy that still exist in all of this and tend to them like the very first sparks of a fire on a cold winter night.

So, here I am. I’m a little bit of a mess right now, honestly. I mean that existentially but also literally. I let Zeca cut my hair last night and she did a great job but I washed my hair before bed and did absolutely nothing to it this morning so you can imagine what it looks like now. But I don’t care. Bed head is probably fitting because I think I’m finally waking up.

This post was inspired by a conversation with my friend Melisa. We made a pact to write together. These are my thoughts and you can find hers right here.