I’ve had a really difficult time since the Supreme Court in our state struck down the safer-at-home order that was, well, keeping us all safer at home.

I’ve been frustrated and, quite frankly, angry at the people (I’m trying to be kind here) who are protesting such measures in my city.

I’m even more frustrated by people who won’t take the simple step of protecting others by keeping their distance and wearing masks.

You’re not doing these things just for yourself – you’re doing them for other people, too.

And as my frustration and anger built and grew, I realized that I needed to do something to shift my mindset. Because this was not healthy for me.

So I’ve been trying to cultivate compassion and understanding.

I spent some time yesterday reading poetry and other writings on compassion. One of the most striking and compelling was Maria Shriver’s post in her Sunday Paper. (If you don’t subscribe, I recommend it – just Google it. She writes something insightful and interesting and compelling every week, and I find myself agreeing with her more often than not…)

I can’t find the text to link to, specifically, but yesterday, she wrote:

“So maybe as we reflect on this long weekend, we can each remember that while we have gone through this pandemic together, we have all had very different experiences. Some have lost their lives or their livelihoods. Others have lost hope. Some are remembering loved ones who lost their lives in a war defending our freedoms. Others are just trying to get back to work so they can put food on the table for their families.

This may be the start of summer, but it’s an uncertain time for just about everyone I speak to, myself included. In fact, it’s a fragile time for so many. So, let’s be gentle with one another. We don’t really know what people have gone through these past few months. We don’t know if that person walking next to us is a Gold Star mom or dad or sibling, or the family member of a health care worker who lost their life keeping us safe.

This weekend let’s try to celebrate one another. Let’s seek to get to know one another. Let’s ask each other how the last few months have been and let others know we are here for them—not just this weekend, but for the long haul as well.

After all, what makes us the country we are is our humanity, our empathy, our kindness, and our effort to understand the other—regardless of whether they have the same opinion about opening up or wearing a mask as we do. If we can try to express gratitude for what we have, who we are, and what we can be as a nation, then we will have a memorable summer. Now won’t that be something to celebrate.”

I hit a wall on Thursday.
I was just done.
Done with work, done with having to wear a mask to the grocery store and Target.
Done with people who were ignoring all of the safety precautions.
Done with the stores being out of what I want and like to buy.
I was done.
It was a rather whiny (and unproductive) day, perhaps not surprisingly.

I’ve done pretty well so far, with the self-isolation and safer at home rules. But I think we all have our limits, and apparently mine was reached on Thursday.

I whined a bit, complained a bit more, and finally got over myself.

It wasn’t fun, but I made it through. And then Friday was a huge mess for different reasons.

Sigh.

I took the weekend – a gloomy, rainy one – to reset. I actually did not do any substantive work on Sunday, a break that was much needed. I cleaned out file drawer #3 of 4, which was so satisfying (although WHY did we put our SSNs on literally EVERYTHING back in the day? Good grief, the pile of shredding I have…). I zoomed with my family. I read. I just… well, I kind of blobbed out, as my mother would say. And it was lovely.

Which reminded me that, well, we all have days like last Thursday (and Friday). Or weeks like that. And that’s okay. If every day was sunshine, rainbows and bunnies, then I think the good days would kind of lose their meaning.

Josh Radnor, in his most recent Museletter, wrote about the flow of reality… that we are borne along by the flow of reality, and any sense that we had – or have – control is just an illusion. It really resonated with me, the ultimate control freak. This time is reminding me that I am not in control of what happens, but I am in control of how I respond to it. Sometimes that’s whining (hopefully not that often…) and sometimes it’s disconnecting for a day. But the best days are the days when I at least TRY to respond in a positive way. To remind myself that no, I’m not in control, that the days are different from how they were before, but there are still good ones.

I don’t think there’s a tidy end to this, but… I hope you have a good day, or as good of a day as you can in whatever your current circumstances. I hope to continue my one-day streak over here…:)

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about life right now, about how different it is from “normal” life. I have a more pessimistic view than most, and I know this virus is going to be with us, and affecting what we can do, and how we can do it, for a long time to come. I get quite frustrated with those who persist in saying that “we’ve beaten it” and it’s time to just go back to how it was before. That will just get us into a deeper mess in the near future.

So I am choosing – no matter what happens in my state – to continue to live, for the most part, while distancing myself from as many people as possible. To continue to live this new, modified, sometimes surprising, life.

I haven’t had a lot of changes, like some. I don’t have kids. I don’t have anyone else in my space. I don’t even have a goldfish to worry about. I am (currently) employed, and working more than full time from home. I like my home, I like my routine, and honestly? Not much about that has been disrupted. And, for those things that have changed, I’ve adapted.

But there are some new things that I really like.
Frequent check ins with my nuclear family.
Checking in with a core group of fellow younger faculty members.
Texting with more than a few coworkers.
Having the opportunity to cook more during the day, and even (gasp) slightly shift what I eat.
Exercising differently.

I’ve realized that my life has become even simpler than it was before. And I like it. I’m finding some time to get rid of old papers, old baggage from my previous life. I’d been simplifying, but it seems to have accelerated a bit.

I’ve always loved the song, Simple Gifts. I never really paid attention to the lyrics (other than the first two lines) until today, when I listened to the unbelievably beautiful voice of Allison Krauss… who sang while Yo Yo Ma played the cello. Seriously, if you get a chance, check it out on YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6aQXvbjfAGE).

And this time, I looked up the lyrics…