Stay at Home Part 6
Today is hard. Not gonna spin or soften that reality. I’m not sleeping. When I do sleep, I have vivid, anxiety-laden dreams. And it’s hard because technically I feel like it shouldn’t feel so hard. I’m at home. The kids are at home. They have spring break this week so we’re not distance learning (although I thought Ian and I could catch up on assignments this week). But I feel so unproductive… The sky is gray and rainy for days now. The days, same after same, are long. I just want to go to the grocery store.
Who would have ever thought I would yearn for grocery shopping?
I have a few observations over the past days. One, that, yes, time is suspended. Days are chasms without punctuation of an adventure or outings or distraction. They are both slow and intense all at once. I’ve lost track of our quarantine time (almost four weeks). So the novelty of, “We’re not going anywhere today,” has faded. Yet the wrongness of the moment builds and builds. The longer we stay home, the stranger it feels. We’re both adjusting and rebelling. Our brains understand yet our hearts yearn for change. It’s such a strange tension. And exhausting balancing act.
While some chores and quests have become easier with time, other things are getting more intense. So while we have an easy-going schedule, I find myself stressing over challenges that only become more difficult. For example, friends help us by bringing perishables by the house, but I feel like I can’t lean on that as a solution for months. I know that communities are excellent at rallying to an acute crisis. People rise up to solve troubles in their neighborhoods and with their friends. However, that level of support is super-challenging to maintain over time. One of my doctors, years ago, suggested that I needed to ask for more help. And my answer was that help is far easier for short term challenges- like most people are happy to help prune roses once or twice. It’s a whole different question to ask, “Can you prune my roses forever?”
We’re not to forever and this pandemic will be solved one day. But I still worry about food delivery in another month, two months. What if this lasts six months? Some models predict waves that could last over a year (!). The idea sucks the breath right out of me. And testing is so overwhelmed, I know that I won’t be able to rejoin the community until a vaccine is developed or the ability to test becomes 1000% more available to track asymptomatic transmission. So I don’t have any room for complacency. Which leads me to research more delivery options for food and supplies. Except all of the options that I have researched are sold out or delayed. Solutions are not easy.
Then we have moments that hold up a mirror to the wrongness of the moment. Last weekend was supposed to be prom. Instead, we watched Lord of the Rings. This weekend is Easter. I asked my sister-in-law to bring us candy. And my mom for the scone recipe. So I can ask someone to bring us ingredients so I can bake scones. And hopefully, we can get the ingredients. We won’t have our family together. And it’s fine. Really. And yet not fine either. Not at all. These contrasts bring the pandemic into sharp distinct emotional landscapes.
Sigh. This can be done. This must be done. More contracts edge into the day because it could be so much worse. Here I am stressing about making Easter fun while other families are hoping for someone to be released from the hospital. Our worries are so small weighed against the weight of awfulness out there. It feels ungrateful not to appreciate the very real gifts we have here.
And this is the tension again. I am so, so grateful for our situation. Our support. While I’m also so worried.
Deep breaths. I take more photos. We figured out how to sew masks. The recommendations have changes to encourage everyone to wear masks. We’re not going out, but we can use them for neighborhood walks. We’re gifting them to people that help us too. Anika and I have ideas for a creative photo series.
We really do make the best of every day. It’s just challenging when it’s so gray weather-wise.
Another perception that there is a lot of help and support and government programs, especially for small businesses, is not easy to understand. Our photography doesn’t have payrolls or traditional expenses. We’re fortunate in that we haven’t taken out big loans or carry mighty monthly fees. But we do have subscription-based services. I was ok with absorbing losses for a little while, but now I worry about how long this could last. What if it continues through May? Or into summer? Oh goodness, it’s all too much.
So I go outside and listen to the birds chatter and sing. I sew masks with fun patterns. We gift them to friends and family shopping for us and save a few for neighborhood walks. We watch Call Me Kevin on Twitch and figure out how to stream our own gaming. We cheer for Samwise at the hobbits in the Lord of the Rings. I keep an eye on the sky to set up timelapse movies from different parts of the yard.
Art by Anika Vodicka
The teens drew motivational art on the driveway with sidewalk chalk for the neighborhood. Excpet rain (and hail) arrived within hours and washed it all away.
I found my prism and Lensball to create abstract photos. At least play with perception. The distraction is calming. On a morning when the gray and last night’s rain speckled leaves, I took photos of the April Showers fairy for Forest Fairy Crafts (she appears in Magical Forest Fairy Crafts Through the Seasons).
We thought it would be easier to tidy the house and accomplish goals. Instead, we have random fabric all over the dining room table.
My other observation is that I really want to disengage from the news. Yet, I also feel like I need to be aware of developments and changes. So I’ve started checking in on various news sources a few times a day. The numbers have unfortunately surpassed our ability to understand them. So the numbers rise from too many people to even more people (terribly). I can’t manage to conceptualize it anymore. I also need to reinforce our long isolation with information that can keep my brain convinced this surreal life is is a good choice. I know it’s really my only choice (I don’t have the comfort of expecting mild symptoms). But as we choose to stay away from everything, it gets harder not to be lulled into “regular life” like going to the grocery store. I’ll never take grocery stores for granted again.
The Next Day: I slept a little bit better so my outlook is a little calmer today. These dates on the calendar cause emotional waves. And even while we reconcile with compromises, the contrast of Before/Now causes an undertow of loss. We’ve lost milestones and routines. We’ve lost freedom and community. We’ve lost traditions.
And we’re gaining time. Gaining health. Gaining resilience. And togetherness, even while we’re apart. We’re gaining a wild appreciation for little things like trips to the grocery store. And volunteering at the shelter. We miss the cats at the shelter (and our friends) so much!
We tidied the dining room table. Organized eggs so we can dye them this afternoon. Speaking of, I need to research how to mix egg dye… anyway. The Easter Bunny has goodies to deliver (yay for my family bringing treats for the bunny to fill baskets tonight).
We can do this. I believe in us.
Each day I resolve to solve at least one thing. Because problems can feel overwhelming and solutions are empowering. We’ve figured out how to stream to our Twitch channel (follow us please at TheChaosGang). We figured out how to sew masks. We figured out how to Zoom. We tidied up spaces. We put new art up on the walls. We figure out ways forward. And each day is one day closer to the other side of this mighty journey.
Sending light (and solutions) your way ❤️✨
Painting project: https://www.forestfairycrafts.com/journal/art-inspiration-with-color
Sewing Pattern for Masks: We modifies it to replace the ties with elastics https://freesewing.org/blog/facemask-frenzy/
Sad statistic: Cases in the United States pass 500,000
Quarendreaming: https://www.latimes.com/lifestyle/story/2020-04-07/coronavirus-quarantine-dreams
