Everything's Crazy But We're Still OK
I'm bouncing between art projects and long video calls with friends from all over. I'm fielding text check ins from Canada, New York, and the neighborhood a few blocks up the street.
We filmed a song video today, under-practiced and full of funny little mistakes. It's beautiful but I'm having trouble appreciating and championing it. The stakes aren't as high they could be but I'm still self-sabotaging.
Donald Trump is telling Americans they'll be able to get back to work and gather in church by Easter weekend. An article about the difference in social trust and solidarity between Canada and the US validated some of my suspicions but didn't make me feel any better about any of it. And I started my day this morning with news of loved ones testing positive for COVID-19.
I'm not waking up in time for online work outs like some. I'm spending most of my day on the phone, or deep in funny animal vines, or drawing, or cooking. I didn't even leave the house to walk today, and more than once had to get up this afternoon because my ass was numb from sitting on it.
Honestly, I'm still pretty levelheaded.
I don't feel too rattled by the politics and craziness. I believe in the good health and smarts of my family members and friends. So far, the people I know who have the virus are recovering and continually receiving excellent care and attention. An economic stimulus package is being voted by the US Congress on Friday that promises individual paychecks of $1200 to citizens and permanent residents. And as I've written so many times already, I feel lucky. I feel lucky to be where I am, and to still have no symptoms. I feel lucky to be with Shane and to be able to cuddle him after his negative Coronavirus test. I feel lucky just to be able to sing my heart out with him on guitar, in our apartment all to ourselves. I feel lucky to have art supplies and fresh produce and music and books/TV. And, yeah, I could spend more time worrying and diving deep into all the places fear could take me, but it wouldn't help me or anyone I know. So, here I'll stay, grateful for so much in each moment and not trying to plan too much of an uncertain future. I have to let myself enjoy the little things. The satisfaction of my new markers on a detailed drawing; the variety of today's film takes in which I'm belting my face off with confidence; the love and kind words in my inboxes; the vegan burrito I doused in hot sauce, and a safe, cozy place to isolate.
Everything felt crazy today--for so many reasons--but Shane and I are still here, enjoying small and big things, deepening our relationship, and washing the f**k out of our hands.