It’s the end of the life that we knew.
We’ll have to make a new one.
Nature is shaking us from our torpor.
Shaking harder I should say. Many of us have felt her urgent hand before.
Some of us will not wake up.
In the kosha layers of Ayurveda the human body is the last thing to feel disease. It comes from disturbance in the field of planetary agitation, emotion, mind and yes, breath.
Earth, you’ve got my attention. I will attend.
Like anyone, you want to be heard.
I hear you.
I see you Corona Virus. Respect for your massive power.
Now please leave us alone.
My eyes close at 9:00 P.M.
Sitting in front of the television.
I have no purpose. No schedule. Like some of you. I take myself to bed to rise at midnight despite the struggle to stay unconscious. I imagine prisoners of war. John McCain shows up. He’s young and brave and handsome looking up through a bamboo cage stuck in a hole in the ground.
He’s showing me that sanity now is a choice.
Why him? He’s not the first guy in my playlist of favorites but you don’t choose who visits from beyond.
Merlin, our new puppy will wake me at dawn, my favorite time of day.
Willed to the mattress till the first bird sings had been my way. A lack of sleep made no difference. Joyous to fling myself smiling from the bed as my husband soundly slept. Grateful for another day, the sweet foam on my coffee. The peace of being the lone one at my kitchen island taking in the morning news.
Merlin’s sharp teeth and happy paws disrupt my Hazmat suit dreams today. I think I got back to this bed just hours ago. He and Layla, my sweet hound, beat the walls with anticipant tails that herald a delightful day.
Always new. Always hopeful.
I am exhausted.
I think, I’ve got time to make steel cut oats. It takes a half hour. Ha Ha. Why is that still surprising? Coat the pot with Ghee, boil the water with sea salt, add chopped dates with the oats. Sprinkle toasted pecans and dark maple syrup. Feed my husband and son something healthy, something happy, something lucky to have in the ever present rainy gray gloom.
I do a headstand in the living room. Wait for the upside down to get real. Land with clarity. In the upside down life is interesting. And it goes on.
Write this post. Figure out Venmo and Zoom meetings and send resumes for the future. Clean the closets already cleaned before. Clean out this old filing cabinet.
Call friends in California today. Seems a bit of an underachievement.
Call the bank and change my auto pays. Think about how to get unemployment for my part time but constant work of over a dozen years at Vanderbilt. Corporate America turned its backs on those of us paid the least at the esteemed University. What bullshit.
Note to self. Care less.
Some of my clients will buy a Facebook Portal. We will do virtual classes. Three books unfinished beckon.
I’ve planted hyacinth to bloom next year, weeded beds, fertilized and mulched with my youngest son.
The Crabapples are a canopy of white petals. Daffodils are still smiling under blooming Redbuds as the tulips prepare to burst. The wisteria I’ve sculpted on the front lawn is ready to break out. Our bluebirds are building a new nest. The woodpeckers on the feeder don’t know it’s a new world.