ABOUT HAPPINESS

I have a friend who told me he recently came to this blog and enjoyed reading, but said he was worried about me because I worry so much.  I asked him to elaborate, but he demurred.  So, I'm unsure what caused him to think I'm such a worrywart.  Perhaps it was a couple posts ago when I talked about being a wee bit depressed about this state of things:  But, it's not as if there isn't a life-threatening pandemic, democracy hanging by a thread, social unrest, and far, far too few instances of being able to see my grandkids.  I think I try to put lipstick on the pig most of the time, but hey, some days are just a little ugly.   

So, this post will be about the happiness this pandemic brings to my life!  

First, it's summer.  We've pandemic-ed through mid-late winter, all of spring, and now most of summer, with no end in sight.  But hey!  It's warm and sunny and 75 degrees and I am right now sitting under a tree in my garden hearing kids across the street playing and laughing, chickadees and hummingbirds chirping as they flit to the feeder and the birdbath, noticing my geraniums are still blooming bright red, the bubbler fountain singing a soothing song of cool waters.  It's a bit muggy, but the slight breeze is enough to cool my brow and I'm sipping my ubiquitous Lime LaCroix. (I'm addicted, but better this than my old friend Chardonnay -- this summer makes 9 years alcohol-free, which is another thing to be happy about!)  These summer days are already showing signs of packing their bags and heading to the dark zone -- sunrise is later, sunset earlier.  A few maples are going golden.  The garden harvest is 90% finished.  Nevertheless, I am savoring every single minute of these outdoor days, especially since outdoors is a relatively Covid-safe place to be.

Second, Hub and I are still sort of honeymooning our way through the year, approaching our first anniversary (after 48 years of marriage) of last September when we faced and worked hard to address the earthquake that rumbled through our marriage in 2019.   What a surprising gift to find us closer after all this time.  Marriage is hard and easy, sweet and sour, and totally unpredictable.  It's also demanding.  You can't ignore and push anger, resentment, disappointment, and weariness away and expect to be doing much better than going through the motions at times, even when you have a gift for and a desire to learn and grow together.  Even with that considerable boxful of personal growth tools, there are still challenges because marriage is still between two separate people with two separate ways of perceiving and coping.  But we've rediscovered our easy comaraderie, risked a no-holds-barred truly honest way of talking things out, created a flow of moving through our days together, pursuing our own interests while making ample time to be together, that is agreeable and loving.  Also, lots of sex. (Masks optional. HAHA)

Third, the internet.  I know, we demonize the online life.  It can be addicting to some, with its siren call of continuous stimulation and non-stop scrolling through social media for the next silly meme, outraged headline, cute cat pic, recipes, classes, and ads, ads, ads.  Still, I love signing on and posting about my life and absolutely love when my friends do the same.  I've deepened friendships with some during this physical distancing time and have kept in touch with others, hearing their pandemic-life tales from far away.  And then there's Zoom, which has been both a challenge and a joy, but either way I am grateful to see the faces of those I care about. 

Also, the internet has brought a few lovely antidotes to the sadness, loneliness, and claustrophobic fears we have all faced at times.  I am in a few FB groups, all formed in response to the Covid world, whose sole purpose is to cheer:  

"Garden Therapy" is a local group (gone beyond local as friends of friends have joined from afar) of mostly pictures of our gardens, with queries for advice and sharing of info.  People creating beauty from nature in their own backyards.  

"A World of Hearts" is an international group where people started decorating their doors and windows with "heart art" from kids' homemade cutouts to fancy decals to stained glass masterpieces.  Lately there are photos of "found hearts" -- rocks in heart shape, tree bark revealing hearts, stream waters creating eddying hearts.  It's a lovely sentiment....to send this heart love around the world.

Speaking of world, there is another group called "The View From My Window" where locked down people everywhere -- literally all over the world -- have posted what they can see from their windows, yards, porches, neighborhoods.  Some views are spectacular and some are of small patches of grass surrounded by chainlink fencing.  People comment with where they are viewing from and the world becomes smaller as those stuck at home find companionship across the globe. 

"Spreading Kindness" is a group which shares inspiration mostly in the form of uplifting memes.  I used one to illustrate this post.

On the micro-local level, I started a periodic "Neighbor Check-In" email outreach to those who live on my block.  Many of us are basically introverts. We don't often talk in person, each keeping to our own lives, homes, gardens -- but in the early days of the lock down, it was weird to never even see anyone outside: no walks, no deliveries, no cars coming/going.  I realized that even if we didn't socialize much, we knew the rhythms of each others lives in that silent way that neighbors do.  So I decided to do a "check in" and the emails were returned with delightful, revealing, heartfelt sharing about our experiences with life and the Covid shock, all appreciating the connection. 

Fourth, "random acts of kindness" bring me joy.  A friend of mine organized a pizza delivery to the local hospital for the frontline workers when things were particularly stressful in April.  She solicited donations from friends and family and managed to get $400 worth of pizza delivered, with late donations combined in a gift to the local food bank.

Inspired by her, I started a "Letters of Love" Campaign among my FB friends to send letters or postcards  of appreciation to local hospitals, clinics, and long-term care homes.  I collected all the addresses and announced the recipients to write to each week. We sent these, two or three letters every week , for two months, reaching out to four local hospitals, six local clinics, and ten long-term care facilities.  Amazingly I got three letters of thanks back and word from one clinic worker I know well who told me our outreach was highlighted in their multi-site, clinic-wide newsletter.  

I continue alone to do occasional appreciations to "essential workers".  I've left goodies and cool drinks for the letter carrier and garbage/recycling pick-up guy.  I've sent letters to my local groceries stores and words of encouragement to people I know who work in "essential" jobs that didn't allow them time off.  Note to self: Do more of this.  It's so easy to show ongoing appreciation.

So, see?  It's not all tears and disaster planning.  Life is a precious thing.  If nothing else, this pandemic time has softened me, made me appreciate small kindnesses.  My heart has opened to the simple things, to the love, friendship, and connections that will find a way, even when the usual way is barred.

Do I still worry?  Well, sometimes.  But no one need worry about my worry.  It has its place, but it doesn't consume the whole of me.

At least that's the view from here...©

DEMONS AT WORK

I had a hysterectomy in 2001.  Fibroids.  Very common.  I was so relieved to have the surgery and have the "monthlies" behind me, especially the last few years of...well, no one needs to hear the details, but let me tell you, it was not fun. 

The thing is, I had no idea at the time why I developed that affliction, nor did my doc.  Unlucky?  

No!  There IS a reason, revealed recently by a doctor (yes, she has a medical degree, but as in all professions, someone has to graduate last in their class, I guess) who shared that "DNA from space aliens is infused with medicine" and  that dreaming of having sex with a demon ("astral sex") can result in all manner of awful results including infertility, FIBROIDS, miscarriage, and sexually transmitted diseases.  See?  At long last, an explanation.  

I don't specifically recall having a dream about having sex with a demon, but you know how it is: sometimes you don't recall every dream, especially those of such mundane subject matter.

This doctor joined a group of similarly white-coated "frontline health care providers" on the steps of the U.S. Supreme Court (why there?) the other day to proclaim that there is a cure for Covid 19 -- hydroxychloroquine, an anti-malarial drug continuously touted by the current president, his supporters, FOX News, and this woman and her cronies who say masks are unnecessary because this drug is the cure.  This flies in the face of science and leading immunologists who have studied this drug, all of whom say it does nothing to cure Covid, and in many cases causes heart issues and even death.  But what do they know?  

The current president had watched the Tea Party Patriot Pro-Trump re-election-sponsored gathering at the Supreme Court and declared, 

"I don't know which country she comes from (Nigeria actually), but she said that she's had tremendous success with hundreds of different patients.  And I thought her voice was an important voice, but I know nothing about her."  This is a typical endorsement of questionable and even disproven information which is so often promoted by this president.  I laughed.  But many take his words as gospel.  Sigh.

So this is where we are in the national discourse on Covid.  At least the majority of citizens seem to give credence to the leading expert on this virus, Dr. Anthony Fauci, judging by his "trustworthy" poll numbers, but that just annoyed the current president, who regularly derides Fauci. This week the current president's resentment spilled over into a whining moment in a press conference where he said he doesn't understand why Fauci is more popular than he is.  

Moving on.  I believe my summer garden has also had astral sex with demons resulting in seeds spilled into the earth that were less than robust.  I'm dealing with a disappointing gardening season.  I planted cucumber seeds three times and none germinated.  The beets are small, the beans paltry; even the zucchini is struggling.  It's a little sad.  I had high hopes.  On the other hand,  we got some good peas, the raspberries are plentiful to a fault: my freezer is full of gallon bags of berries.  And...ta!da! my tomatoes are prolific!  It's really hard to grow tomatoes in this climate so even a couple that ripen for me is cause for celebration.  Most tomato gardeners here make a career of their care and and coaxing to full fruit.  As usual, I plant and mostly ignore, although I did help them along with some "hand pollinating" as I like to call it.  (Am I the demon or the angel?)  Anyway,  we are eating fresh tomatoes daily and there are many more to come.  

So, the Summer of the Covid moves on, with the dance of the ridiculous and the sublime in full swing.  

I had a Facebook memory post pop up today of four years ago, showing a video of me on the night of the Democratic Convention when I had a party of family and friends here to watch Hillary accept the nomination of her party -- the first woman to do so.  I recall crying with joy....never suspecting what was ahead for us all.  

Demons, indeed.

At least, that's the view from here...©

Photo Credit (demon) www.pixabay.com

THE HARDEST PART

Almost every morning, after I get my coffee and find my seat in front of the 'staring window' of our living room -- the big window on the world and our busy bird feeders -- I sit in the silence of my home and feel my heart break.  Almost every morning the pain of that broken heart moves me to tears.

Love and grief are two sides of the same coin, they say.  You cannot grieve if you have not loved. And loving will inevitably lead, one day, to grief.

I've been thinking of this pandemic, now having spanned winter, into spring, into summer, and have wondered out loud to myself and others, "What's the hardest part?"  For many in my age group it's  the loss of routine, the loss of freedom to go and do as "normal", the long days of at home-ness where one day follows the next in a kind of monotony; the alone-ness.

I am not bored; I am not even alone. Hub and I have cocooned companionably together.  We have mastered Zoom to stay in touch with friends and go to meetings and both have enough interests and curiosity to keep us occupied and stimulated.  We like our simple routines; we like quiet; we like our home and the gardens.  We are mainly content.

So, the hardest part?  For me it is the disconnect from family: my sons, their wives, my two granddaughters.   We have stayed in touch on Zoom, at times unsatisfactorily, especially early on when everyone was shellshocked and stressed.  I have screen shots of some pretty sad and exhausted faces.  But it was better than nothing at all, so we persevered for several weekly meet-ups. 

Then I set up a FB Messenger Family Group which has been more successful, with almost all of us posting updates, photos, and items of interest as the spirit moves.  That's been fun.  On Messenger I did two months of an every morning post of "Mr. Bear's Stay at Home Adventures" for our 5 y/o granddaughter.  I didn't want her to forget our house or her favorite activities here, so I posed her big Teddy Bear in familiar settings doing familiar things and sent her a photo every day.  In response, my son sent a video of her replying to Mr. Bear.  It was a highlight of my day!  (I later created a paperback book of the 60+ Mr. Bear photos for her to keep.)

With the weather turning warmer, and the local cases of Covid flattening out, we've invited some or all of the family here in person for outdoor gatherings.  We physically distance; don't touch anything in common; keep the sanitizer handy.  Hub and I have prepared and served meals in our garden space, with individual tables set far apart.  It's been fun and A LOT of work -- hauling tables and chairs, figuring out the logistics of foods on each separate table -- we essentially set it up like a restaurant and we are the chefs and servers and clean up crew.  The distance from kitchen to yard is such that I get my 10,000 steps in by the time I'm done setting up and executing the event.  Last week we added cards and gifts for everyone -- we had Fathers Day, a daughter-in-law birthday, last day of school, last day of preschool, and a wedding to celebrate!

A wedding....yes.  Son Two and his beautiful fiance were married on May 9.  I can't believe I haven't written about it.  It's a sign of this time that a fog rolls in on what should be a bright day of joy, but ends up feeling unreal, shrouded, physically and emotionally distanced.  They had a big wedding for 250 guests planned with all the traditional bells and whistles. Then the shutdown came.  They agonized over what to do, with several scenarios swirling until, finally, they did all they could do:  they got married in their backyard with two witnesses, an officiant, and a photographer.  The two extended families attended via Zoom.  It took an age for the audio to work, then during the ceremony the screen kept freezing up.  But still, we got to see as best we could, if not really participate.  We are grateful it was a glorious sunshiny day for them.  I loved getting the professional photos -- absolutely lovely.  They rescheduled the big party/reception for later this summer, or if not, then maybe next spring -- there are no guarantees that it will happen; we don't know how long this pandemic will rage.  It is not what they wanted, not at all what any of us could have anticipated for this wedding 18 months in the planning, but they are wed.  They are happy.  And we are proud.

But none of this is how I want it to be.   I especially miss having my grandgirls here to hang out....so many times they would come for the day, or a sleepover.  At the family gathering I read a book (from 8 feet away) to our 5 y/o and she got tears in her eyes and said, "I want to hug you so bad!"  And I said the same, choking back my own tears.  Then I told her to wrap her arms around herself; I did the same.  And we pretended we were hugging each other.  I told her I hug her in my heart every day.  It was a bittersweet moment.   Our 10 y/o granddaughter is changing so fast I feel like I'm missing precious time with her before her interests turn more toward friends and my close relationship with her will take a back seat.  For awhile we Zoomed regularly, then it fell by the wayside as she got busy with online school, her best friend on Messenger Kids, and a new puppy.

As for my sons and their wives -- at first I sent them texts regularly, checking in, offering encouragement, support.  But I rarely heard much back and thought maybe I was hovering too much.  So I stopped doing that, making a declaration to myself on May 2 to back off.  I also moved them from my custom FB friend list where I think they might be overwhelmed with all my brilliant posting of current events, politics, inspirations, information, and selfies.   It just seemed like maybe I was trying to create something that was a one-sided desire, since I realized too many of my FB posts were clandestine messages to them and then I looked with hope for a "like" or a comment.  My god, embarrassing!

I don't mean to imply we are not close; we are.  When we are together it's wonderful and we have a great time. But when we are apart I'm still trying (too hard) to keep that connection going.  They, as it turns out, have full, busy, stressful, joyful, challenging lives that don't include daily outreach to Mom.

This has been the hardest part -- my longing for a closer connection, for more reciprocity from my 'kids'.   What I've grown to see even more clearly is that that longing comes from a perspective of ages and stages.  I know in my 69 year old bones how precious life is; how fragile; how fleeting.  That is the grief side of the coin. Because the love side is how deeply I cherish my family and wish for us to rush into a regular huddle hug, even via text.  But alas...

I was amused to hear the four 30-something "kids" talking about birthdays at our recent backyard dinner and a couple of them now being "mid-30's" and sort of already dreading the big 4-0.  They laughed about the new puppy and that if he lives his expected 15 years, they will be 50!!!...and how shocking that was to realize.  I offered that when I think 15 years ahead, I hope to still be alive. They looked a bit shocked at that.  They think we are here forever.  They think we all have all the time in the world.  We do not.

The hardest part?  That this virus has robbed us all of precious time together.  That this virus is deadly and to thwart it we must sacrifice irretrievable moments of deep connection, of sharing space together, of hugging not just with our hearts, but also with our arms.  That realization, every day, brings me to tears.  Then, I take a deep breath, find gratitude in health and so much more, and carry on.

At least, that's the view from here...©

CHAOS

Yesterday morning a thunderstorm rolled through our area.  This is not a common occurrence.  We get drizzle, mist, showers, even steady rain sometimes.  But yesterday morning the skies darkened, the temperature dropped, and winds picked up.  Soon, there was distant rumbling.  And a pelting non-stop big drop rain.  By the time I signed on to my weekly Zoom visit with my Sutra Sisters yoga group we all heard the loud cracks of thunder and flinched a bit at the flashes of lightening outside the windows in our respective homes, although some of us live 20 miles apart.

This dark deluge, replete with sound effects, seemed fitting.  Our world has been storming lately.  We have been living in a whirl of chaos it seems -- where nothing is as it was.  In the Ayurvedic tradition, one would call the energy around us "Vata" -- a swirling chaos of unpredictable movement.

We've been living with the Coronavirus pandemic where many (most, in Washington) have been "locked down" socially: staying home, keeping physical distance from each other, wearing masks, to comply with the Governors order.  But others, some in our community and in other states, have defied this recommendation to slow the spread of the virus and have refused to stay home, to distance from others, to wear masks. Somehow this defiance has become a political statement -- a disbelief in science, epidemiology, and a protest against being told what to do, how to live.  It's become a statement of "freedom" to refuse to comply.  Citizen is pitted against citizen as the refusal to wear a mask endangers us all.

As businesses have shuttered to comply with orders to "stay home" workers have been laid off, let go, and some small businesses have closed for good.  No one wanted this.  Everyone hates this.  We all grieve.  Yet some believe we must suffer this economic downturn in order to save lives.  Others have organized rallies and stormed State Houses with weapons and banners demanding we "open the economy".   These images on the news are unsettling and chaotic.  There seems to be no way to bridge the gap to reach an understanding of sacrificing for the greater good.

Then last week a black man in Minneapolis was killed when a white police officer pushed his face into the pavement with a knee to the victims neck as he arrested the man (who was handcuffed and unable to resist), while three other officers stood around doing nothing to help the victim.  The ensuing protests in Minneapolis and then spreading out to every major city in the United States over the ensuing days have resulted in riots, looting, fires, massive destruction of property and many injuries (thankfully, no deaths yet).   There is righteous anger, demands for change, for justice.  People want to be seen and heard.

To some police are seen as the "enemy" shouted at, pelted with bottles, rocks, and other debris as they try valiantly to maintain order and safety for protestors.  But some police were also identified as perpetrators of more undue violence in the melee, beating and clubbing and tear-gassing their way through the crowds.  Chaos.

Curfews are put in place to little effect. Tear gas and flashbombs are used to control the crowds.  Store front windows are smashed and looting occurs.  Fires are set and cars and buildings burn.  Many watch in horror, wondering to what end are these destructive acts committed? 

We hear that some portion of this destructive violence comes not from the community, but from outside extremist groups swooping in to take advantage of an opportunity to sew discord, to cause us to judge each other and to turn away from those hurting, casting them as offenders rather than victims.  We hear they are right-wing white supremacists methodically bringing makeshift weapons to the fray, to smash and burn and incite others to violence as mob mentality overtakes reason.  Who can tell?  How do we know?  What can we do?  Who are the good guys?  The bad guys?  Chaos.

And we have no leadership, no voice of calm or reason coming from the White House.  His usual words of divisiveness and threat are no balm to anyone.   The chaos of this administration is more and more disturbing, more and more out of touch, more and more ineffective.  During a pandemic he withdrew the U.S. from the World Health Organization.  During a nationwide protest over police brutality he threatens to crack down harder -- threatening military action and the loosing of "vicious dogs".   It has been nearly 4 years of chaotic dismantling of the rules and norms of our national government, of name calling, threatening, bullying.  It has been horrifying and disorienting.  We both anticipate and dread the coming election.  Our Republic hangs by a thread as an oligarchy-ruled authoritarianism creeps ever closer to the finish line.

I do not do well with chaos.  Yesterday, after the storm, I felt myself unable to find an oasis of calm.  I felt exhausted.  I decided to do something I never do.  I went up to my bed, crawled in fully dressed, pulled the covers over me, and fell asleep.  I slept for 2-1/2 hours.  This is practically unheard of.  But I believe my mind, body, and spirit had had enough.  I needed respite.  Sleep was a gentle and soothing balm in the middle of a dark and troubling day.  Hub made dinner for us; we watched a comedy on TV.  I thought I'd be up all night after my late afternoon nap.  But sleep took me under again -- for 7 straight hours.

Nothing has changed this morning....we are still fighting for our lives with the pandemic; overnight riots continued; the "president' is still Tweeting threats; I still don't get to see or hug my grandkids.

But, rested, I realize with renewed perseverance, we do as we do, we decide to go on.  To take action. To do what we can.  For me that will be:  contribute to an organization fighting for racial justice; contact elected officials; work for voting rights and candidates.  And wear my mask, physically distance, find a safe way to see my family.

I realize how blessed and privileged I am and that I have a responsibility to use that privilege, to be an example, to live a life that brings compassion and support to those I love and those who need my effort on their behalf.

I have a print hanging on my kitchen cabinet that I see every day: "We can do hard things."  Yes.  We can.

At least, that's the view from here...©

GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN -- EVEN IN A PANDEMIC

I promised at the end of my previous post that I'd write a more upbeat post this time.  I'm not sure this is it, because this little pandemic is starting to get to people. 

I took a risk with my life this week and ventured to Lowe's Home & Garden Center to get a few container plants for the garden.  I'm not sure this was an essential trip.  I convinced myself that I'd be mostly outdoors and my mental health could benefit from seeing and buying and planting pretty flowers.  So I went.  I got a few pretties and patiently waited in the looonnngg checkout line where people were encouraged, but not required apparently, to keep a 6 ft distance.  Others who wanted to cross this long line wiggled their way through at a distance of far less than 6 ft.  Of course only about half the folks were wearing a mask, so the fact that I was was only nominally protective, but better than nothing is what I tell myself.

I finally reached the checkout booth (it's almost entirely enclosed these days).  The woman working there who appeared to be about my "grandma" age, just glared at me, not making any move to start scanning my pots.  Then she blurted, "Who picks this crap?  Do I have to listen to this shit all day?!?  Who is this anyway?  It's just screeching!" Startled, it took me a minute, but then I got it -- the overhead speaker of piped in music was rather loud and right above her work station.  "Um, yeah, well it's Cyndi Lauper.  You know...the 80's....'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun'..."  She retorted, "Well I remember her; I thought she was a cute little girl, but this is just screeching.  I'm going to see who picks this music! I have to stand here all day!" 

This moment of workplace frustration  off her chest, she proceeded to scan my purchases. I fumbled with my credit card, trying not to touch anything, but then realized I'd hit the "enter" button on the card reader with my finger, then touched my credit card, so I panicked and realized I'd now contaminated my card and what was I going to do with it until I could get to my sanitizing wipes which I'd forgotten to bring?  I had some hand sanitizer in the car, but could I just squirt that on the card?  I didn't have any tissues or paper towels.

I walked away as Tom Jones' "It's Not Unusual" started up on the overhead speaker and briefly wondered if this was more to the checker's liking or just more irritation.  I also noted that everything was unusual, including being sworn to by the Lowe's checker,  being deathly afraid of my credit card, and being desperate to get to some sanitizer before I ended up on a ventilator by dinnertime. 

I got to the car, stashed my flowers in the trunk, immediately worrying about having touched the trunk latch, threw the radioactive credit card on the passenger seat, sanitized my hands, and took off.

I had decided to do my usual waterfront walk before heading home.  When I got there, I put on my mask again, sunglasses, ballcap -- I always look like a bank robber when I head out in public.   I noticed the credit card still on the seat and my first thought was, "Oh gosh!  I can't leave that in plain sight; I gotta put that in my purse!" which I did, slammed the door, and off I went. 

A hundred yards into my walk, it hit me.  I'd never sanitized the card!!!  Now I'd contaminated the entire inside of my little purse that I take on walks, which contains my driver's license, ear pods, chapstick, a couple bucks, and cell phone.  Damn!   I needed to check for messages on my cell phone since I was waiting for an important text.  Well, I decided since everything was contaminated anyway, I'd just touch my phone and NOT touch my face, which I couldn't do in any case since it was covered hairline to chin line.  I'd sanitize it all later.  I dragged my phone out of the little bag probably half dozen times in the 4+ mile walk, checking for the text and dialing into a podcast.

When I got home, I unloaded all the items onto a sheet of newspaper to ready it all for sanitizing.  Wait.  "Where's my credit card?"  In the car?  Nope.  Not in my bag.  Not anywhere since I'd gone almost nowhere.  I knew sure as the day is long that on one of the reaches in for my phone, I'd likely also pulled out the card and dropped it while on my walk. Damn!

I spent the next little while calling in to the credit card company to report a lost card, then trying to determine how many websites I'll have to contact to update payment information. 

So, no, I'm still not feeling cheerful about the pandemic.  But I do still like Cyndi Lauper.  This girl just wants to have fun too.  Puhleeze, just a little fun...

At least, that's the view from here...©

PANDEMIC UPDATE: YES, WE ARE STILL IN IT

I'm back.  I haven't really gone anywhere, since little has changed since I last wrote about the Covid crisis and lockdown.  There is is still a pandemic raging and we are still on a Stay Home/Stay Healthy order in Washington state, extended yet again until the end of May for most people, much longer for those over 65 and/or with underlying health conditions.

What has changed since I last reported stats a month ago is the number of cases and deaths.  Both have gone up:

TODAY --
Global cases:  3,810,744  Global deaths: 264,021

U.S. cases: 1,256,669   U.S. deaths: 74,121
Washington state cases: 15,594   Washington deaths: 862
My county cases:  2,549  My county deaths: 112

So when Hub found me sipping my coffee, staring out the window this morning and asked how I was doing today I said, "Pretty good."  He replied, "Well, I guess 'pretty good' is the new 'great!'"  And that is about how it feels.

How great can things really be?  Well, there are moments of greatness I guess, when for some reason a sense of normalcy and joy creeps in and I forget what is happening, or something unexpected and wonderful happens in the midst of this -- that can be something resembling great.  There are uplifting moments when I read or see stories of people being kind, generous, selfless, and loving during all of this horribleness.  It's kinda great when a TV show or a book or a funny thing on the internet takes me away to a happier time.  It's really great to talk to a nearly 35 years of friendship BFF on the phone every Tuesday.  I do believe we could laugh through the apocalypse.

But let's not forget my tendency toward anxiety and depression and my need to examine the dark side before I come back to the light.  I'm not a natural Pollyanna type.

Last week the Depression Monster grabbed me by the ankles and pulled me into the pit for a couple of days.  I had felt it stalking me for awhile.  I thought I'd fended it off.  Nope.  This time the lies it told me was that my family didn't care about me; that my regular reaching out to them with texts, messages, gifts, etc was more a bother than a support since I so rarely heard anything reciprocal from them.  I ignored the rational explanation that they already knew I was physically OK, (and my emotional well-being apparently is not on their radar screen),  that they are busy and stressed with their own life issues, that when I was in my 30s I was equally self-absorbed.  Ages and stages.  (Sorry, Mom; I get it now.)

So I spent a few "poor me" days in tears and sorrow until I got clear about an action to take -- basically stop reaching out so often, stop checking in, and hoping for news of their lives, and give them some space.  I think my impulse to offer them encouragement and support is pure -- I truly DO care and want the best for them, but with contemplation I recognized a secondary motivation being one of hope of reciprocation.  A gift with strings attached?  I need to get clear of that.

And I admit to a bit of jealousy when I hear other friends my age talk about how their adult "kids" are constantly checking in and checking up.  I think I understand on that count why ours are not....we are still a bit invincible in their eyes.  Both of us healthy, active, engaged...Hub's a retired doc for Heaven's sake.  What could we possibly need?  Again, this is familiar since my own mother was about the most stoic, strong, capable person I'd ever known....until she wasn't.  By the time it was so obvious anyone could have seen her mental decline, I had to admit I missed the early warning signs out of pure disbelief and denial.

So, with that light bulb going off, a different kind of light(ness) has re-entered the dark space, Depression gone,  and I'm back to merely the new normal dread of thinking I might die if someone breathes on me.

I leave the house only to go in our own yard and our almost daily (masked) walks in the neighborhood or at the waterfront.  I realized I was getting a bit agoraphobic, so I decided to go to Costco with Hub last week and that went fine; very few shoppers (relatively speaking), 99.9% of them wearing masks, no lines at the 6 ft spaced checkout.   I bought some new leggings and a couple of summer weight hoodies.  Haute Couture, Kirkland-brand style.

We've had two brief visits out in our yard and on the back deck with Son One and the grandgirls and Son Two and Lovely Fiance, keeping 6-12 feet away, although at one visit the 5 y/o ran toward us for the usual hug until her daddy grabbed her and reminded her to stay back, to which she said, "Oh, I forgot.  We can't touch or we will get sick."  How heartbreaking is that?  The ache to hug my granddaughters is palpable.

Nature is oblivious to the plight of humans, so spring is flowering in all its glory.  Veggies are planted in the raised beds, tomatoes growing on the sunny back deck, grass growing so fast it doesn't take long to feel like I am walking through the prairie to get to the garden.  The colors of spring are bright spots for sure.

Nicer weather also means that people are getting "quarantine fever", which in comparison to Covid Fever, will not kill you, but many are acting like it will and deciding to say 'screw it' to all these silly rules and resume life as before.  It may be impossible to express my rage at this decision, a decision that impacts everyone and prolongs this nightmare, but oh well, "freedom" is the byword of the ignorant and selfish at this point.

People are starting to gather, most don't wear masks, some are openly and proudly defiant.  And I'm just talking locally.  Nationally it's a disgraceful disaster of disregard for human suffering from the very top of government with the lives of those who are most vulnerable to this killer virus seemingly expendable in a rush to "open the country" again and get that economy moving.

I know this doesn't sound at all like my depression has lifted.  (Just think what I'd have sounded like had I posted last week!)  I'm not depressed, just taking a hard look at reality these days.  But sure, I could focus on more of the bright side.  I'll do that next time.  Promise.

At least that's the view from here...©

ZOOM-ZOOM

Had we known, we'd have all purchased stock in Zoom.  It's the "go-to" video conferencing site for keeping us connected to family, friends, co-workers, and audiences in this time of Stay Home/Stay Healthy lockdown.  There are others: Google Hang-out, Skype, maybe more.  But Zoom seems to have the market share.

Like many others, I'm trying hard not to turn into a Zoombie.   But with everyone clamoring to see each other, just to know other humans exist and our friends and family are still out there, I've been drawn in.  Monthly get-togethers are suddenly weekly and almost every day has a Zoom meet-up of some kind beckoning.

Hub and I decided we are going to put some parameters around this.  It's hard.  We have to be honest and not wiggle around the "white lie" of, "Oh, gosh.  I can't...I have a conflict."  Really?  Like what? What could we possibly be doing?  Not going on vacation.  Not going to a play or a ballgame. Not celebrating a birthday or going out to dinner with friends. Are we busy walking from the living room to the kitchen?  Scrolling through the Netflix menu for the 100th time? Nope, the honest truth is we just don't want our lives to be lived in front of a computer screen talking to disembodied heads all day.  As great as it is to see people, it is an artificial and at times frustrating endeavor.  We want to savor the opportunities, not dread them.

I have found hilarity in learning the trick of Zoom though.  On Monday I was on a Zoom meeting with my Coffeehouse Crew (a group of women who meet monthly for coffee at a local coffee shop.)  Most of us are of an age where technology still seems 'new' and rather intimidating.  We are not, shall we say, tech nerds.  So we spent the better part of an hour waiting for the host to sign in; she was having problems with the shared account she was using, then she gave up and another of us hosted the meeting, then we had to help her figure out how to let others join, all the while checking emails and texts to communicate with those waiting that we were doing our best... Some gave up, for which I don't blame them.  Time was about up anyway.

Here's another thing I notice.  We should all try harder.  Sitting in front of a computer, even with a camera trained on us, we seem not to be able to get ourselves situated so that others can easily see us, which is the whole point of the whole thing!  Nor do we care much what we look like.  It's as if an invisibility cloak was thrown over our stay-at-home selves, not that there's anything inherently wrong with a "who gives a shit?" Covid-inspired fashion statement, but I dunno, some effort maybe?  (If you are reading this and taking offense, obviously I don't meant you!)

Let's take a look at the common offenders.  And let's go with the given that I didn't bother with make up or a hairbrush to act as a model.  (And I have to do the list before the photos this way because photos/captions are so hard for me to format on this platform!  See above: not tech-savvy.)  Anyway....here's what I've learned through personal trial and error about "production values":

1.  Backlighting: Not good.
2.  Off-center with lots of busy mess in the background: Not good.
3.  Teeny tiny head with vast expanse of ceiling:  Not good.
4.  Giantess fingers adjusting the screen/settings:  Not good.
5.  Giantess body with disappearing head: Not good.
6.  Face in shadow; slumped, bored, not even trying to look interested or animated or glad to see us:  Not good.
7.  And now....head shot, center screen, pretty good lighting, not a lot going on in the background (well, we can see it's Easter).  Marked down for less than great grooming and plastered on fake smile; but hey, it's progress, right?

DISCLAIMER:  On the other hand, letting go of all pretense in this time of life or death might be a good lesson; getting to see how people REALLY look, and live, is a glimpse into deeper intimacy, isn't it?  Hmmmm....maybe my thoughts are evolving into a new blog post....

At least, that's the (Zoom) view from here...©

STATS & THOUGHTS

Just gonna do a brief numbers update and talk about how this feels, as if this time and what it brings up for everyone can ever be captured succinctly.  We live on shifting sands these days.

Coronavirus COVID-19 on April 7, 2020 (keeping in mind that testing for this virus is woefully and shamefully unavailable to most Americans, so these are the really sick people who got a test -- not those "presumed" victims whose symptoms were not quite bad enough or who are asymptomatic carriers):

Global cases: 1,390,380
Global deaths: 79,148

U.S. cases:  380,744
U.S. deaths: 11,907

Washington cases:  8,384
Washington deaths: 372

My County cases:  1,522
My County deaths:  55


I remember the first COVID case in the U.S. being discovered here (literally, HERE -- a couple miles from where I write) in late January.  Then more cases, then more, and more....

We did not take it seriously enough at first; we should have.  Warning bells were sounding loud and clear and but I have to think the usual American Exceptionalism was at play -- "Oh, sure.  But not HERE!"  Yes, here.  On the national level the pandemic was ridiculed, ignored, downplayed, mismanaged at every turn by the unqualified yahoos in the current Administration with the Chief Yahoo being the worst culprit, which continues to this day with his daily press briefings which he plays like a campaign rally, talking about his ratings and undermining the scientists he trots out to stand next to him as if they support his nonsense.  They later (especially epidemiology specialist Dr. Tony Fauci) try to walk back the silly words that came from his mouth.

At any rate throughout February we saw that this thing really was coming to America.  By the first week of March, I personally started to get very nervous.  I went to the Y but felt weird about touching anything, went to yoga, but noted how close together the mats were.  We went car shopping and by then no one was shaking hands on the deal.  We hand sanitized and wiped down the steering wheel and door handles on our new Leaf when we left.

On March 7th I decided to start staying home for the most part.  On the 9th I went to a friend's house for coffee then stopped at the grocery store.  That's been about the extent of my social outings in the past 30 days.  On March 13 the governor closed schools, bars, restaurants, put limits on public gatherings; on the 23rd he issued a Stay at Home order; we are only to go out for "essential services" like groceries and medications.  (NOTE: Essential services is a rather loose term -- certain businesses have been given permission to stay open and at times that feels like a value judgement, but whatever...)

Hub gets our groceries every two weeks, gloved and masked, at the "Senior" shopping times at QFC and Costco.  We sanitize the boxes and packages he brings home.

We go for almost daily walks along the Marina trail, wearing masks.  Other than that we stay home.  At least the weather is improving and we are able to be in our yard/garden.  We planted our veggie seeds yesterday.  Gardening is such an act of faith in the future, isn't it?

What does all this feel like to me?  Well, I'm sort of made for staying home.  I love the blank slate of long unstructured, unscheduled days.  As an introvert, I don't need a lot of people time or novel stimulation.  But I miss human touch.  I miss seeing faces in person; picking up all the cues that communication entails beyond a disembodied head on a screen.  I miss the simple ability to go grab a coffee with friends or have our weekly Family Dinners.  I miss my family enormously; miss hugging my granddaughters, with a longing I can barely tolerate.

I notice my moods swing between a sense of peace and freedom, longing and sadness, panic and claustrophobic desperation.  I notice that I am beyond grateful for Hub and that our "troubles" of last year were resolved before all this hit us.  I am grateful to be in a strong, confident, loving place in my marriage; I have the best "partner in isolation" I could have.  I love our long mornings talking over coffee, our afternoon walks, our evening TV show binges.  It's a sweet and special time -- this forced slowed down togetherness.

I am constantly amazed that people speak of being "bored" at home.  I've never been bored; there is always something to explore, if not external busy-ness, then internal reflection.  Letting our minds, hearts, and bodies rest in "nothingness" is a doorway to inner knowing, inner peace.  I intend to walk through it and see what I find.

I notice that some people reach out to friends and family and some don't. I feel abandoned at times and very sad.  I notice that what I always thought to be true of people, institutions, and norms are not really what is true in many cases.  There is a "paper tiger" aspect of seeing behind the facade of "all is well" (government, health care system, financial stability, friendships, family ties).  This is a period of discernment:  What am I learning?  How will I take that knowledge into the rest of my life, when all of this is behind us?   Our world won't be the same post-pandemic, and neither will I.

At least, that's the view from here...©

LESSONS FROM THE TITANIC

Hub and I talk daily about how we are feeling in this time of Stay Home/Stay Healthy (as our governor has named this "stay at home order" period) and how we are navigating this in our daily activities and emotional lives.  It grounds me to be able to voice my confusion, fear, gratitude, anger, love, concern...all of it.

Yesterday I told him I felt anxiety building again, after several days' hiatus.  Hub pointed out that the novelty of this situation has worn off 3-1/2 weeks into this.  At first it was freeing to let go of social obligations, activities, and tasks.  It was fun to hang out together, with no distractions, in easy, open-ended days, feeling the playfulness and contentment and support of this gift of unstructured time. 

But now, we are still here, still practicing physical distancing for who knows how long.  It's not ending yet.  We have not hit our peak of new cases and more deaths.  As more is learned about this virus, we are discovering asymptomatic carriers can pass it along, and possibly much easier than we imagined -- not just through touches, coughs, and sneezes but also through "aerosols" in the air from merely breathing.  The only way to slow or stop this is to stop interacting with other humans.  So we have to find a way to define our every day lives within this confinement for the long haul.

We notice that since discovering Zoom, our calendars are filling up again.  We are seeing friends and family frequently and even going to meetings.  And because the technology is easy and available with a keystroke, we are even increasing our time with various groups (monthly meet-ups have become twice monthly or even weekly) and while this may be a lovely thing to do, we are suddenly feeling "too busy" again.  We have rushed into familiar territory to fill the void.

And isn't that what we do when we feel off balance?  We seek to find balance with the familiar rhythms of our lives.  For us it's connecting, organizing, and taking action.

But in doing that, I feel I'm shortchanging the opportunity to build new skills, make new habits, exercise new muscles for living that can serve me better now and in the future.  Do I even want to go back to what was so familiar?  Or do I want to create a new way of being in my world?  Maybe by filling my time with these familiar distractions, I'm not diving deeply enough into the grief all of this has caused.  Maybe I'm not giving myself the chance to find meaning in this moment, to find the gifts surely there to discover.

I was watching author/motivational speaker Glennon Doyle's  daily video, "Family Meeting", on FB this morning where she compared this pandemic to the Titanic.  She highlighted many of the characters portrayed in the movie and how they all responded to the impending disaster differently.  She urged us to not look at this as "Is this ship going down?" in a state of panic, but rather, "Who am I on this ship?"  Am I the one shoving people out of the way to save myself (denying, hoarding, endangering others by going out) or am I in the orchestra on the deck, playing on, giving the gift I know how to give no matter what happens, perhaps easing the way for others?  We get to choose.  I think there is a lot to learn about ourselves right now if we are open to the lesson.

At least, that's the view from here...©

14. DAILY MUSINGS DURING THE PANDEMIC COVID 19 - FACE TO FACE

It's been 2 weeks of daily sharing my thoughts here.  I'm going to stop doing this so regularly.  But I will continue to contemplate, journal, and blog about this time in our history and how my family, friends, community, and I have been impacted.

Today, confusion.  There is so much pain and anxiety around this and I find so much gratitude and joy in each day too.  Maybe that's just how life goes and this has made us all raw enough to realize it.  We are not lost in the fever dream of busy-ness or nonsense -- in things that are so crazily unimportant. We are in this moment of survival, of caring for each other, of appreciation.  At least that's true for me.

I'm sure there are some who are just pissed off, or ignoring the whole thing, or so frightened that they can't find any peace.  And of course, I'm only talking about those of us who are "well" and not those fighting off the virus, or fighting for their lives.  Or those risking their own lives to fight on our behalf in clinics and hospitals.

One big thing today -- Hub and I went for our usual walk at the waterfront Marina.  Fresh air, sunshine, breezes, and a few strangers to smile and nod at, when suddenly a woman came jogging toward us, slowed and said, "Don't I know you?" with a big smile on her face.  I was stunned!  Here was an "in the flesh" woman I know; a new friend I've made in a FB group where we support each other in going sugar free, eating healthy, and moving our bodies.  I've only met her in person a few times, but we shared deeply in posts and messages online.  We've found a lot in common and a common bond of working toward good health.

We stopped to chat, both smiling awkwardly and sort of in awe, to see someone real that we know.  She said, "I feel like crying".  I realized tears were welling in my eyes too.  We stood far apart (way more than 6 feet), smiling and allowing tears, then moved on to chatting about this and that before parting again.

In this time of physical distancing, even with Zoom and social media and all the rest, I realized in those few moments how much I've missed the face-to-face reality of another person to see and talk with (well, besides Hub).  I realized that what we take for granted is indeed precious.

I hope we all come out of this healthy and with a new perspective, with a new vision for a better way to live.

At least, that's the view from here. ©

13. DAILY MUSINGS DURING PANDEMIC COVID 19 -- WILL TO DO WHAT MUST BE DONE

3.29.20  I read today that temporary field hospitals are being created in sports stadiums, arenas, and large tent facilities on community soccer fields.  It's a new world.  I'm amazed at the skill and ingenuity to make this happen so quickly.  Maybe I haven't lost faith in humanity after all.

But I grieve that it takes a pandemic to create the will to do great things and to look out for each other.  I wish this steely will would extend to addressing gun violence deaths, climate change action, addressing the lives at risk due to obesity and sedentary lifestyles (leading to heart attack, stroke, diabetes and other illnesses), humane immigration policies, criminal justice reform, all the "isms" and on and on...

A pandemic got our attention, but suffering and death are not new phenomena.  Just sayin'.

At least, that's the view from here...©

PHOTO CREDIT:  Lester Black, Seattle PI

12. DAILY MUSING DURING THE PANDEMIC COVID-19 -- NEW NORMAL

3.28.20  I had a moment today when I realized I'm adjusting; instead of that off-balance swirl of chaos feeling, my mind instead said in response to noticing on our walks that people take a wide berth when passing on the sidewalk, or stand far apart when talking together as a group, "This is just the way it is now..."  And those things seemed, well, not surprising.  They seemed "normal".  I am amazed at the human ability to be resilient, to adapt, to find a way forward.

At least, that's the view from here...©

11. DAILY MUSINGS DURING PANDEMIC COVID 19 -- LEISURE TIME

3.27.20  NIGHT THOUGHTS:  Well, the sad truth is that I'm not doing enough.   My perfectionist self generally feels this way.  When I'm told to "do your best" I always assume I could do better with a bit more knowledge, effort, training, brain transplant...

I've been feeling this pressure for a long time around the political disaster we are living through and that I am personally responsible because I didn't doorbell enough, call enough legislators, send enough postcards, convince enough friends, send enough money.

And now I'm not even able to do enough to enhance my "physical distancing" life.  My FB feed and email notifications have gone from doom and gloom over politics to uplift and enrich while staying home.

Zoom is everywhere!  Zoom free concerts, poetry readings, book groups, church services, gatherings with friends and family!

Meditation teachers are eager for me to meditate more and for free!  Yoga opportunities at home abound!

Exercise classes want to be sure I stay fit in my seclusion -- lower body work outs, upper body workouts, weights, stretches, aerobics.

 Educational opportunities are now plentiful with free and reduced price online classes on all manner of subjects.

I'm asked to put a Teddy Bear in my window for kids to spot as they walk by on family outings; decorate my door with hearts to join in Hearts in a Window effort to show love for our community; bang pots and pans in the front yard to thank health care workers; put up Christmas lights or decorate my porch to delight the neighbors.

And clutter bust my house, organize my photos, get at that hobby I've always wanted to have time to  do, grow my own food, cook it, catch up on every show on every network and platform, listen to some new podcasts, read, read, read.

I know everyone is just trying to help and I truly appreciate the urge, but only in America can we take the horror of a pandemic, tell people to stay home and chill, then be sure to overwhelm them with a long leisure time "to do" list.  HAHAHA

At least, that's the view from here...©

Photo Credit: pixabay.com

10. DAILY MUSINGS DURING PANDEMIC COVID 19 - TAKE ME TO KANSAS

3.26.20  NIGHT THOUGHTS:  Tonight I'm thinking that it seems everything has stopped and nothing has stopped.  Software still freaks out, azaleas are budding, bills need to be paid, dishes washed, and kids sometimes get the shoes they have longed for....here are the "high heels" we heard about every single day last week from our 5 y/o girl.  She got them.  She's delighted.  So am I.  Now I wish she could click those heels together and take us all back to boring old normal "Kansas".

At least, that's the view from here....©

9. DAILY MUSINGS DURING PANDEMIC COVID 19 -- ALMOST NORMAL

3.25.20  NIGHT THOUGHTS:  I've been feeling so isolated from my family and unsure how best to reach out -- not wanting to bug them, to pry, to be all helicopter-mom-ish.  I just want to know what's up with them, what they are doing, how they are feeling (not just physically).  It's hard to know how to parent adult children sometimes.  But I had a long and helpful talk with one of my sons and I feel better, for now.

I also did a hilarious trial run on Zoom with some friends and we are sort of hopelessly inept at this tech stuff, but we are trainable.

Hub and I took a sunshine filled walk along the Marina route we love.  I wrote a blog post.  I paid some bills.  I continued to set up my yoga space at home.  We ate a great veggies and mussels dinner and watched the last episode of the series "What's Eating America" about the intersection of food and American life.

I laughed; loved the slow pace of the day; loved hanging out with Hub.  I was not anxious -- the first day in weeks that I have held my anxiety at bay, after a significant bout of fear last night. (I found out someone close to me has the virus -- is doing well, with none of the terrible symptoms, but still...)

This is how it will go I guess.  Up and down and up and...looking for equilibrium.  Grateful for every pause that feels almost normal.

At least, that's the view from here...©

THIS SHIT GOT REAL

NOTE: I wrote and published this one before I added the Daily Musings, which is why it feels stuck in the middle.  Still relevant though.
**************************************
Nobody's laughing anymore.  Only a handful of idiots (mostly a few Red State politicians, some diehard partiers and...well, the current "President" of the United States) are taking this lightly.  I said two posts ago that Seattle was not a ghost town.  Now it is.

Here are today's numbers, to compare to my two previous posts on this topic:  Coronavirus worldwide: 460,065 cases; 20,828 deaths.  U.S.: 61,062 cases (including someone I know well); 20,828 deaths.  Washington State: 2469 cases (including someone I know well); 123 deaths.  The county in which I live: 614 cases; 16 deaths.

Many states, including here in Washington, are now on a "stay at home" order decreed by the Governor.  No one is to go out and about unless absolutely necessary -- for food, medications, essential services, work.  We can be out in nature going for walks and such if we keep a physical distance of at least 6 feet from other people.  Restaurants, bars, many retail stores, churches, gyms, theaters, etc etc etc are closed.  Meetings are cancelled (no gatherings allowed), weddings and funerals postponed.  Businesses closed; people are working from home.  Even the big Boeing assembly plant is shut down.   Health care providers and hospitals are begging people to stay home and stop the spread and alleviate the stress on hospitals and supplies which are in high demand and stunningly short supply.  I won't go into all the details here -- it is well documented and "coronavirus 2020" will show up in history books, no doubt.  This is a very consequential and terrifying period in our collective lives.

As for me:   Anxiety waxes and wanes.  At times I feel calm and secure in the knowledge that I am being so incredibly careful and sticking incredibly close to home that this thing can't catch me.  Then I'll feel a headache coming on, or a scratchy throat, or a little throat-clearing cough and I'm suddenly doing a body scan and counting on my fingers the days since I last saw someone outside my home or perhaps touched a surface and then my face unconsciously.  Then the anvil sits on my chest and I'm sure I can't breathe, which makes all the "symptoms" more pronounced.  I recognize it as an attack of anxiety and start my meditative breathing to calm the nervous system....and on it goes.

Hub and I are deadly serious about our physical distancing plan, only going out for groceries weekly, at the early morning designated "senior hours" at local supermarkets and Costco, implemented to try to shield older people from the general population.  It's been 16 days since I've seen any friends; 10 days for Hub.  We had our grandkids stay with us last week while their parents were traveling.  We are relieved they made it home before further limits on air travel took effect.  We loved having the girls with us, but now that they are home with their mom and dad, we are not sure when we will see them again.  They are all sticking close to home too, all of us fearful of inadvertently passing something along, unbeknownst.

This virus is most unforgiving to those over 60 and/or with underlying health conditions.  Hub and I are fortunate that we are basically healthy enough overall, but we are definitely on the over the hump side of 60.  Hub celebrated his 70th birthday last week, party postponed. At our ages, there is no longer a perfect health profile.

It's hard to describe how all of this is impacting us.  It's surrealistic; it's lonely; it's unsettling; it's chaotic; it's terrifying.  It's also oddly relieving to NOT have to keep up with the frantic pace of life; to be ordered to stay home and hunker down.  There is nowhere to go; nothing to do; no one we have to see.  As an introvert, I fluctuate between reveling in the open spaciousness of my days and feeling like "OMG, I'm trapped!"

And just saying that points to my privilege.  We have a big, warm, lovely home in a great neighborhood with all the amenities and plenty of food, entertainment options, access to email, text, Zoom, social media, etc.  We are retired and have enough money for now to see us through. (The stock market has crashed, though, so we will see how that goes over time.)  We love each other and enjoy each other's company, so being together is fun and comforting.  (I cannot even go there to the domestic violence and child abuse situations this stressful lockdown might be fostering, in some homes.)

I am grateful for so much right now -- for the new relationships forming online, for the many acts of compassion and care I'm witnessing in the local and wider community, for the seriousness with which many of us are making the sacrifices needed to slow the spread and "flatten the curve" of this outbreak, for selfless and dedicated health care workers who run into the fire every day at great risk to themselves, for families who are creatively finding ways to connect and be in touch supporting and encouraging and loving all the more, for finding that all we take for granted comes with no guarantee.  All we have and think is permanent is built on sand that can shift from under us at any moment.

Some are urging "social isolation".  I get it, but isolating socially is a lonely road and not accurate.  We need to practice physical distancing and social solidarity.  We are all in this together.  Find a way to reach out.

At least, that's the view from here...©

8. DAILY MUSINGS DURING PANDEMIC COVID 19 -- PHYSICAL DISTANCE; SOCIAL SOLIDARITY

3.24.20  NIGHT THOUGHTS:  We've all been calling what we are doing, "social isolation" -- the staying home and away from others.  But a friend posted this meme on FB today and I love it.

We are NOT socially isolating; if anything I feel a community coming together in new and compassionate ways to offer support, encouragement, and strength to each other.

We may be physically distant, but are forging social connections that we can take beyond this crisis. We are in solidarity with each other, making this sacrifice together for the greater good of our communities near and far.

Keep your physical distance, but come together in social solidarity!  We are all connected.

At least that's the view from here...©

7. DAILY MUSINGS DURING PANDEMIC COVID 19--ALTERNATE REALITY

3.23.20  NIGHT THOUGHTS: We just watched "This Week Tonight", the John Oliver show that was from March 15; only a week ago.    The things Oliver spoke of seemed like ancient history already, so quickly has our reality changed.  (Our governor issued a statewide "stay at home" order today.) 

It seems like the past three years have been like that -- one outrage, one crisis, one head-smacking "can you believe this is happening?!?" event after another.  I feel like since November 8, 2016 we've all been living in a nightmare or an alternate reality of some kind, making no sense in that way that dreams can seem so unreal, so surrealistic, familiar yet scary.  I want to wake up now.

At least, that's the view from here...

Photo Credit:  Revelatori. com (go there and buy something -- this is a print I bought)

6. DAILY MUSINGS DURING PANDEMIC COVID 19--NOTHING IS NORMAL

3.22.20  NIGHT THOUGHTS:  Let's get this out of the way first: I cried all morning, missing my grand girls already after their week with us.  Wondering how I can figure out how to see and hear from each other during this social distancing thing.  I hear other families are using Zoom conferencing, getting together but staying 6-9 feet apart, FaceTiming on the phone etc.  We can do this, but I long for those big hugs that are so much a part of our family time.   I also think I'd held so much in last week, that my emotions about all of this were bound to spill out.  They did.

The virus now has descended upon a friend in NYC.  At least she thinks so.  She has all the symptoms, but was refused a test because her temperature was not quite high enough to "qualify".  But they ruled out everything else so told her to assume she has it.  The lack of testing is a travesty and while I have no energy for political ranting right now, the current "president" and his administration have totally screwed this up, with their slow response to the inevitable, the downplaying of the severity of the situation, and refusal to use WHO test kits in favor of letting private providers develop their own at great delays and no labs to read and interpret them.  We have no idea how many people are infected, but it's way, way more than we know.

Today I was grateful for another sunny day, a long walk, moving furniture around to accommodate a designated yoga space at home, a quiet dinner with Hub, and looking forward to some TV time tonight.  Not much different, really, than a normal Sunday.  Except the nagging knowing that nothing is really normal right now.

At least, that's the view from here...©

5. DAILY MUSINGS DURING PANDEMIC COVID 19--QUIET AND LONELY

3.21.20 MORNING THOUGHTS:  The girls are making Welcome Home pictures and cards for their parents.  I will miss this silly laughter, smiles, hugs.  I'm so grateful for this time with them.

Finding myself feeling anxious again today.  I think it's a bit of dread about not knowing what's ahead of us, or of when I'll see my family around the dining room table again.

NIGHT THOUGHTS:  Returned the girls to their mom and dad tonight.  They were excited to be home, to see their parents.  I am happy for them all.  And sad for me.  No hugs at the door.  Just dropped things and left after last hugs with the girls.  Not normal.

Hub and I will need to adjust in this period of figuring out how to navigate these trying times.  He left for a weeklong snowboard trip on March 8, just shortly after this virus had begun to make its way into the collective consciousness of most of us.  I stayed home, leaving the house only a couple of times that week, watching the news and reading daily reports of the trajectory of the virus taking hold here and around the world.  We were not together when things here started to feel like they were falling apart with school closures, limits on work, meetings, gatherings, cancelling professional sports seasons, etc etc.  He came home a day after the girls arrived and we've been consumed with kid care with little time or energy for our own processing together.

Now we start to sort out how we negotiate a different way to be for awhile.  We are serious about keeping ourselves and others healthy, and not over-burdening the health care system by needlessly exposing ourselves and then being the ones also needing care.  We will follow the city and state-wide directives to stay home unless absolutely necessary. Occasional groceries is all we can think to need.

Tonight the house feels so quiet; like something essential is missing.  I know it will feel like this for awhile. And then it will be the usual quiet, tidy, comfortable and a lovely refuge for Hub and me.  We will tackle some projects, get the gardens ready for spring, read, write, talk, go for walks, cook, eat, binge-watch something or other on TV and we will weather this storm.  It just feels like the world has tilted off-axis and I need to find some sense of equilibrium, even if I have to hang onto a handrail to do it.

At least, that's the view from here...©

Photo Credit:  Revalatori.com  -- go there and buy something; she's great.