Okay, so this blog is going to be about a whole jumble of things. Why? Because life right now is a hot mess. Is it not? I wake up in the morning with an overwhelming sense of dread the nanosecond I remember that we are living in dangerous and ridiculously uncertain times. I ask, "Is the pandemic over?" And when I hear a response in the negative (this is all in my head, you understand), I sigh, roll my eyes, and resign myself to yet another day of confinement.
I lie around in bed a bit longer than usual after having made, or more likely after Paul (I love you, Paul!) having made me, my first cup of coffee. The cats are happy to see me and take up position on the bed: Sable is the first to flop down against my left thigh. Sebastian, his brother, takes up station next to my right leg. Ruby settles in between my legs, Chloe the kitten stashes herself under the covers, and Sadie the mama "cat loafs" on the far corner. I think they are happy to have us home more but, on the other hand, Ruby is showing signs of agitation and aggravation and is taking it out on the others. I feel her pain.
Paul and Pilar and I are all doing our best not to kill each other in our sleep. But, actually, we're all pretty chill which helps a lot. We've each settled into a rhythm that works for us. We have a really narrow galley kitchen in which two people get in each other's way and three is damn near impossible. We move around each other in a totally organic way. You make your toast now, I'll boil the kettle when you're done. That kind of thing. Come to think of it, I see the beauty in our dance - giving space when needed, gathering together when desired. We're doing okay.
Last night, we had a Family Games Night in which we all connected through the internet and played some online games together. Grant & Milana, isolating in Thornhill, set it all up for us; Kevin signed in from his tiny house in Belgrave, Ontario and Meacham from his shared home in Banff, Alberta. I love the technology that allows us to connect in this way but it's bittersweet. Seeing them all on a little screen makes me miss them all the more. I want to feel the physical energy of each of them, in my presence, in front of me. I miss my children.
I've got a bit of a routine going. At least, I do something outside everyday. Go for a walk around the property or sit in the sun or do Spring clean-up in the gardens. I spend some time in my office doing worky stuff and I talk to clients on the phone or via video conferencing. Everyone is doing their best to get through this.
There's been a lot of stuff on social media about gratitude through the pandemic. Mostly, I get it but is it too soon? Like, you know when some tragedy happens, say 9/11, and people turn to humour to process it but not enough time has lapsed to make the joke palatable? Are we jumping on the gratitude/blessings thing too soon? We don't really know where this is leading. And, well, people are actually dying. I get that we as humans are meaning-making beings but I really feel like we don't yet know what this is all about, in a big picture sort of way. Time will tell.
In the mean time, I can certainly appreciate the comforts of home, the slowing down, the noticing what is truly important as all the other busy noise of life falls away. Unlike many, I have it easy and cushy. For one, I do not have to manage children all day in a confined space. Honestly, kudos to all the parents who are simply making it through the day. Please, please, please be easy on yourselves. Tune into the rhythms of your household and honour them. Go with the flow as best you can and take a lot of breaks, if you can. Children have the unique and uncanny ability to bring out both the best and the worst of us. They don't mean to.
And, now, this is me signing off. Please know that I am thinking of you. I am holding space for you that includes peace, calm and normalcy.
From my confinement to yours.