Isolation in the Time of the Coronavirus
I’ve attacked the pandemic isolation from a different angle; I am dressing for work each day AND putting on makeup. It helps me tackle work in the face of having only very light trade. It’s also a way to self-nourish, for me, because I tend to start work in my pajamas at 5 a.m. and fry in the blue glare way too late into the night.
I am cooking more meals and eating more meat than I have eaten in decades (thanks to a carnivorous spouse being home 24/7).
I nag myself nightly about not exercising more, though, and last night I had an hour-long honest-to-goodness anxiety attack over my cat killing a titmouse. We have a titmouse family in our birdhouse for the first time and I think they have come to symbolize normalcy – or hope — for me with the fact that Mother Nature continues life in the face of this pandemic. The thought that Inga might have interrupted that knocked me sideways. I was so relieved to see mom and dad titmouse alive and swooping in to feed their babies this morning. Nonetheless, John is outside constructing a “catiary” (bless him) that will be the limits of Inga’s outdoor excursions during Rockport’s bird season.
One constructive exercise for me has been to inventory how I feel about my life, should I end up ill and facing extinction. I realized, perhaps for the first time, that I feel good about the parent I am, the spouse, the friend, and the worker. The one person I have short-shifted is myself. There is a bit of me imprinted on all the people in my life, but I still need to express myself as myself…my outright beliefs, my musings, my perspective.
Each of our journeys are fascinating ones. We need to give ourselves credit for taking them, and we need to remember to take breaks. We were meant to come this way and our experiences along these route add meaning and conviction to what we’re learning.
That is our wisdom greeting us, my friends
Current Events; Pandemic
Kate took this photo in her Texas coastal hometown. This palm tree was downed by Hurricane Harvey in 2017. The tree refused to die and began growing from both ends, turning one palm tree into two.