I had no idea how anxious I had been the past year until I burst into tears when the nurse gave me my first jab and said "You're vaccinated." After the second one, I began to feel a bit safer than I had in a year. Now I'm a month past the second one, I have reservations to go to Missouri to see my sister. She and her husband are also past their second jabs. Today, I'm going out for my first public outing with a friend in exactly 13 months. I feel a bit anxious. I'm worried about traffic, crowds, how I'll feel with no mask in a car with a friend. (She too is a month past second jab.) We'll see how it goes, but I'm hoping that going to the San Diego Botanic Gardens for the first time in my life will help ease the anxiety.
A beautiful day for you, Sandra! Let me know how it goes. A trip to the Botanic Gardens seems perfect. Maybe it will make getting on a plane that much easier too.
While speaking -- in person on a bench overlooking Salem (Mass) Harbor -- with one of my editors yesterday we mentioned how the year has been too complicated to sum up in a few words. Many writers and editors don't mind working from home and worry about what's to come. Back to the rat race?; If you've lost a loved one then what else is there but grieving? Don't underestimate the power and persistence of grief; The politics for half of us, at least, have been utterly horrible and terrifying and there has been no way to let down one's guard; COVID-19 was terrifying and for half of last year, a scary mystery. Over time science learned and shared. Now we barely have to worry about surfaces while a year ago we had to wash every single thing and let our mail sit for days untouched; on and on...all the while drifting further and further away from the lives we had been living. In other words, sailing into the unknown. Some of us didn't even get hugs. Or human touch. So one night while sitting in my reading chair I realized with horror I had sunk deeply into that chair, paralyzed with despair. It took everything to just stand up. I made myself go out into the bitter cold of a New England night and walk around an empty tourist town, in tears, wondering what was happening to me and how much more of this I had to endure. And I am one of the lucky ones -- loved ones intact though at a distance; good food; strong internet; wonderful places to walk every morning. On a Ted Talk this morning, a psychologist said -- don't spend time mulling and processing but make the break from it. One man got in his car after a day of work at the computer and drove around the block. He separated himself from a big source of anxiety in a very physical and real way. That makes sense. We have been stuck in our own heads for so long. May all those who suffer in these quiet ways have some peace....
Making a break, a physical one, feels right and important. Being outside, either walking or in the vegetable garden, has saved me. Expressing my anxiety has helped me. I'm starting to imagine the visits I'll have soon. Also: hearing how others are taking such joy (even with some trepidation) as they embrace loved ones, share a meal in a public space, is helping me to imagine doing it too.
I might have enjoyed a walk in my own neighborhood just as much. I'm going to start back walking tomorrow, that's what the trip to the botanic garden told me.
it's clear I just read this one quite out of order, but that is really symbolic of how life is right now. there is no logical order to it. I think you speak for many of us, with worries/fears about life returning to what it once was. a relief is here, I've had both shots, but I still worry about what's ahead and how it will be. I just try to do the best I can to see the good in each day. thank you for this post.
I had no idea how anxious I had been the past year until I burst into tears when the nurse gave me my first jab and said "You're vaccinated." After the second one, I began to feel a bit safer than I had in a year. Now I'm a month past the second one, I have reservations to go to Missouri to see my sister. She and her husband are also past their second jabs. Today, I'm going out for my first public outing with a friend in exactly 13 months. I feel a bit anxious. I'm worried about traffic, crowds, how I'll feel with no mask in a car with a friend. (She too is a month past second jab.) We'll see how it goes, but I'm hoping that going to the San Diego Botanic Gardens for the first time in my life will help ease the anxiety.
A beautiful day for you, Sandra! Let me know how it goes. A trip to the Botanic Gardens seems perfect. Maybe it will make getting on a plane that much easier too.
While speaking -- in person on a bench overlooking Salem (Mass) Harbor -- with one of my editors yesterday we mentioned how the year has been too complicated to sum up in a few words. Many writers and editors don't mind working from home and worry about what's to come. Back to the rat race?; If you've lost a loved one then what else is there but grieving? Don't underestimate the power and persistence of grief; The politics for half of us, at least, have been utterly horrible and terrifying and there has been no way to let down one's guard; COVID-19 was terrifying and for half of last year, a scary mystery. Over time science learned and shared. Now we barely have to worry about surfaces while a year ago we had to wash every single thing and let our mail sit for days untouched; on and on...all the while drifting further and further away from the lives we had been living. In other words, sailing into the unknown. Some of us didn't even get hugs. Or human touch. So one night while sitting in my reading chair I realized with horror I had sunk deeply into that chair, paralyzed with despair. It took everything to just stand up. I made myself go out into the bitter cold of a New England night and walk around an empty tourist town, in tears, wondering what was happening to me and how much more of this I had to endure. And I am one of the lucky ones -- loved ones intact though at a distance; good food; strong internet; wonderful places to walk every morning. On a Ted Talk this morning, a psychologist said -- don't spend time mulling and processing but make the break from it. One man got in his car after a day of work at the computer and drove around the block. He separated himself from a big source of anxiety in a very physical and real way. That makes sense. We have been stuck in our own heads for so long. May all those who suffer in these quiet ways have some peace....
Making a break, a physical one, feels right and important. Being outside, either walking or in the vegetable garden, has saved me. Expressing my anxiety has helped me. I'm starting to imagine the visits I'll have soon. Also: hearing how others are taking such joy (even with some trepidation) as they embrace loved ones, share a meal in a public space, is helping me to imagine doing it too.
I might have enjoyed a walk in my own neighborhood just as much. I'm going to start back walking tomorrow, that's what the trip to the botanic garden told me.
it's clear I just read this one quite out of order, but that is really symbolic of how life is right now. there is no logical order to it. I think you speak for many of us, with worries/fears about life returning to what it once was. a relief is here, I've had both shots, but I still worry about what's ahead and how it will be. I just try to do the best I can to see the good in each day. thank you for this post.