Yet again, I’ve come up to the top deck with Marley to try to make some sense of life. Initially I was just checking on our tomato plants while Dan left to teach his socially distanced yoga class at the Downtown YMCA, but the dramatic sky drew me to stay for a while; a little reading of a good book and a little staring at the city and chewing on thoughts and feelings. There are so many right now, overflowing and overwhelming.
I woke up at 4:30am this morning, already worrying about the mammogram and ultrasound that I was scheduled to have at 8am related to my bicycle accident a few weeks ago. Mammograms hurt on a good day, but with a painful egg-sized lump I knew it would be extra awful. My primary method of exorcising my worry demons during these…I don’t even know what to call them anymore- apocalyptic times? Anyway, exercise is my drug of choice. I went ahead and got up at 5, leaving Marley in bed with Dan, and headed up to my garage gym to kickbox. Kickboxing has helped me survive a lot of stressful situations, though people often laugh when they find out I’m the kickboxing Mary Poppins (I got certified to teach it when I turned forty, just to know that I could). After that, I walked Marley and got showered and ready to leave. Sweet Dan dropped me off (no one besides patients are allowed at Birmingham’s Kirkland Clinic).
This year has held so much sadness and pain. I am working hard on finding the good, seeking out opportunities to help put good out there in the world. The polarization, the anger, the frustration of the barrage of awful news, the sickness and death is mind blowing. I have found myself just wanting to scream to release the pent up tension at times. I don’t think I’m alone.
The number of Covid-19 cases in our state is skyrocketing, and I feel frustrated and saddened at the many people who refuse to take it all seriously. It’s as if the virus doesn’t exist if they don’t know anyone personally who has had it. Well, I almost lost my husband to it. I’m sure that I had it early on in March; I’ve never been so sick in my life. I’ve had music colleagues across the country who have had it. It’s real and it is deadly. We are doing all we can to be careful; I don’t want the Coronavirus in my home ever again.
These are such strange times; I have friends struggling, students struggling, and I am doing the best I can to hang on. I feel safe and at peace at home, but going to my office, going to the grocery store, going out in public at all just panics me. I don’t trust others to keep me or anyone else safe. The cavalier attitude shakes my foundation, and I’m not sure how to be a part of society right now. I’m trying to figure out how to be my professional self and my home self again after such a long sabbatical from reality. It has been over three months since we left campus. I both miss and fear my life at school.
All I know to do is stick to my routines; rise with the sun, walk my dog, kickbox, ride our bikes, do school work from my music studio, and work on the house and yard. Every day the routine seems to become more and more important in holding the fabric of our lives together. I am a routine gal, so I will soldier on, doing my best not to give into the panic, trying to find the light in all of the darkness. We have to see the good and do our best to be the good.