Remember when we were teenagers? And all we could think about was ending whatever we were going through? And how much better it would be when it was over? And we would get to do all the wonderful things we wanted to be doing?
Sure, you do.
And now, during this most unprecedented time, we wish it more than ever.
Sure, we do.
But now, like then, we’re told that just because we want it, it doesn’t mean we’re going to get it. At least not right away. And not all at once.
So, most of us are doing what we’re told to do to end this abnormal way we’re living.
We stay home. We keep our distance from our neighbors, friends, and even loved ones.
We wear masks when it becomes necessary to venture out.
We look for ways to take advantage of our time: we clean, we organize and reorganize.
We check in on and celebrate with friends and loved ones via social media, phone, FaceTime, Skype – or even the latest marvel – Zoom. We try to stay as connected as we can.
We binge watch all of our favorites we haven’t had a chance to get around to. We binge watch new ones.
We try to wait as patiently as we can.
But our patience is waning. After all, we’re not used to being in this predicament. It’s always been “over there.” Now it’s “here.” We’re completely out of our comfort zone, as they say.
Well, as the song says, we were never promised a rose garden, were we?
But wait a minute, it’s April! April is the month of resurrection. In our neck of the woods, the sun is coming out for more than a few minutes. Maybe we can at least stop being cooped up at home, watching the dark clouds and the rain add an extra measure of anxiety to our existential crisis.
This morning was one of the nicest in a long time. So, I decided what I needed was to take 20. Twenty minutes to just sit outside. Not to see what needs to be done. But to sit, to breathe, and to absorb.
The cloudless blue sky.
The warmth of the sun.
The hawk soaring overhead.
The sentinel crow cawing his warning of the hawk’s presence.
The twitter of the birds hiding in the trees.
The rustle of the trees in the breeze before the wind begins.
The scampering, then bobbing, of the lizard warming herself.
The ants on their mission of what I don’t know.
The neighbor’s little dog barking at the bigger dogs being walked outside his yard.
The song of the bird on the wire.
The roses beginning to burst with life.
This morning gave me a chance to warm my body and soul. A chance to see more, to feel more, and to appreciate more. I want to give myself this chance every day the day allows.
I hope you do too. Because this better weather will help us better weather this virus storm. Because, as much as we’d like it to, it’s not ending right away. And not all at once. So, let’s grow through what we go through.
Until next time … keep thinking the good thoughts.