 |
| Photo by Warren Wong on Unsplash |
“One is never afraid of the unknown; one is afraid of the
known coming to an end.”
—Krishnamurti
 |
| Photo by Edwin Hooper on Unsplash |
I’ve been trying to figure out why I seem unable to get
anything of note accomplished. Could it be because the world has gone mad? For
instance:
- Our local weather has been see-sawing between the 90s and the 70s with violent storms in between.
- I haven’t been to the library since March 14.
- I go grocery shopping wearing a mask.
You’d think I would have extra time on my hands since I
can’t pick up a few things at Target or meet a friend at Panera for coffee—or
do any of the other little things that seem to suck up more time than you’d
expect. Since we are so very, very fortunate to be safe, healthy, and
comfortable during this stay-at-home time, I thought I’d be reading more books,
creating art, and writing like mad.
I’m not.
Huh.
Guess it’s not just “lack of time” that keeps me from doing
the things I say I want to do. What have I been doing? I really don’t know.
I’ve spent some extra time with Tank because he was due for vet and farrier
visits recently. Though honestly, since I’m still doing all the household
things I did before lockdown, I don’t have as much additional free time as
those who are home from their regular jobs. I’m still doing most of my “regular
job,” so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at my lack of increased productivity. The good news is that this week has been better than last week, which was in turn better than the one before.
I see that many other people are struggling with the same
mood and motivation issues during these strange days. If you’re struggling too, you’re not alone. Here are a few
things that have helped me with the disconnect/anxiety/overall strangeness:
- Dressing rather than staying in pajamas.
- Checking in with one or two people every day.
- Checking the news briefly, choosing the least incendiary headlines to click.
- Writing in my journal.
- Going outside for a few minutes to water the plants and seeds, and watch the dog run around.
- Completing one or two small (I mean miniscule) tasks each week. This week I cleaned up some spots on the carpet in the master bedroom and cleaned and conditioned the boots I wear to the barn.
I also found this piece really interesting—the variety of
things people are doing to stay sane. For example, “To guard against lethargy,
despondency and slovenliness, structure feels important: appointments,
schedules, achievable goals, regular activities.” (Simon Armitage)
Or
“It’s important not to beat ourselves up. You don’t always
have to do stuff. Or achieve stuff. You don’t have to spend your time wisely
and productively. You don’t have to be doing tai chi and DIY and artisan
bread-making. Sometimes you can just be and feel things and get through and
survive. It’s OK to just exist.” (Matt Haig)
I’ve spent a good amount of time online, but not reading the
news. I’ve gravitated towards music and happier types of distractions,
including:
70 West End stars perform Les Misérables’ Do You Hear The People Sing
Cast of Beautiful sings “You’ve Got a Friend”
(Can you tell I miss my shows at the Straz?!)
I’ve been listening to this almost every day.
John Krasinksi’s SGN (Some Good News) episodes are lots of
fun. Episode 2 continues my personal musical theater theme with an appearance
by Lin-Manuel Miranda and other Hamilton cast members.
If you’re more into operatic/classical music, click here for
Andrea Bocelli’s performance at the Duomo in Milan.
Meteorologist Jeff Lyons of Indiana has been shooting his
weather forecasts at home, with a little help from the family pet, who has now
been dubbed Betty the Weather Cat. Click here to see them in action.
I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, or next week, or next
year. This situation is unprecedented on every level. I’m simultaneously
terrified and hopeful. I’ve heard about so many generous acts, such grace and
kindness, and I choose to focus on those things rather than the actions of
those who for whatever reason allow their baser instincts to take over. I’m
trying to overcome my own fear and shyness to reach out to see how I can help
others, and I’m doing it imperfectly and awkwardly and often missing the mark
altogether. And I’m especially grateful for grocery store employees who never
imagined they might be risking their lives to check me out at Publix.
I hope you and your loved ones are still safe and healthy, and that you’re about to enjoy a weekend of simple pleasures and everyday adventures. Let me know how you’re doing in the comments below. And if you’ve heard any positive stories coming out of this crisis, please also share those in the comments!
“Be gentle.
Rest often.
Soften,
soften,
soften.”
—Chani Nicholas
Soften is one of
my chosen words of the year. I didn’t expect it to be this essential.
Lost in the frenzy of coping with the Covid-19 situation is the fact that April is National Poetry Month in the United States. Several times on Catching Happiness, I’ve posted about incorporating poetry into one’s life in simple, non-intimidating ways. (See “It’s National Poetry Month—No Foolin’” or “10 Ways to Celebrate National Poetry Month.”)
In fact, now seems like an excellent time to return to
reading poetry. I find it calming and soothing—and slowing down is necessary in
order to fully appreciate the layers of meaning in many poems. In particular,
I’ve been meaning to revisit some of Robert Frost’s poetry after visiting one of his homes in September of 2019.
In the meantime, here’s a poem, courtesy of
americanlifeinpoetry.org, to remind us that even in the face of “interesting times,” some rituals remain.
Introduction by Ted Kooser: That sage curse, “May you
live in interesting times,” has been upon us for the past few years, but here a
Kentucky poet, Jonathan Greene, offers us some reassurance that there is order
in the world. Greene has a special talent for, and love of, short poems, and
this is a good example of his work. This poem is from his most recent book, Afloat,
published by Broadstone Books.
The Return
We are heartened
when each year
the barn swallows
return.
They find their old nests,
teach their young to fly,
lining up on the barn roof
for their first flight.
They remind us,
for now, some rituals
of this good earth
continue.
American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry
Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It
is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska,
Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2018 by Jonathan Greene, “The Return,” from Afloat,
(Broadstone Books, 2019). Poem reprinted by permission of Jonathan Greene and
the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2020 by The Poetry Foundation. The
introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate
Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not
accept unsolicited manuscripts.
 |
| A little bit of spring from California a couple of years ago |
Life continues to feel surreal. Most of us are down to
visiting the grocery store and staring at our own four walls. My big outing of
the week is a trip to the barn to take care of Tank. If I happen to run into
anyone, we stand at least six feet away from each other and shout pleasantries.
Weird.
Nearly everyone I know and the
majority of the people I follow on social media or the Internet is relentlessly
trying to remain positive and encouraging, and I could not be more grateful. My
mother-in-law sent the whole family an email with only these words:
THIS WILL BE OVER
AND
WE WILL BE THE BETTER FOR IT.
I have no idea what life will be
like once this is “over.” Will it ever be over? Did someone hit a reset
button somewhere?
I’ve been too tired and distracted to do much of anything,
and even my reading has suffered. I don’t have a lot of work deadlines right
now, but I do have personal writing projects I’d like to pursue, and I can’t
seem to motivate myself to do them. I’ve tried breaking them down into smaller
and smaller bits, but so far haven’t found a small enough bit to accomplish.
But today is the start of a new week, a week in which I
will continue to enjoy simple pleasures and maybe even an everyday adventure or
two—for example, I need to pick up a few items at the grocery store today—wish
me luck! I will try again to be more productive with my time, whether I
use it to clean up a mess (have you noticed the Persistence of Messes even in
times of pandemic?), or to write a haiku, or to otherwise play around with
words hoping to find the magic combination that resonates in my mind as being
something I want to share.
I will read books from my unread shelf, and library books
that have been stranded with me. I will take Luna for walks, and brush Prudy.
Tank is scheduled to have his yearly vaccines this week. I will make dinner,
and do laundry, and otherwise keep our home a place of safety and comfort. My
husband’s business is considered essential, so he is still going to his office,
though it is closed to the public and only one other employee is working there
with him (the rest are working from home).
I will take it one day at a time. Life goes on, even in
these strange days.
And how are you doing?
While avoiding too much news, I have found some solace
online. Here are some links you might find inspiring or helpful:
If you have extra time on your hands, you could do worse
than joining Yale University’s “The Science of Well Being” course, available
free through Coursera.
“Pandemic Positivity” downloads from Positively Present.
I’m partway through watching this TED Connects video with
Elizabeth Gilbert.
And finally, I leave you with this, the best thing I’ve seen
online all week (thanks for sharing, Kerri):
