Monday, March 08, 2021


 Having weathered many storms (gulf coast freezes and hurricanes, midwest blizzards and tornados), I know how to prepare and improvise  through a catastrophe.  As a city, country and world traveler I thought that during the pandemic, this would be a nice time to regroup.  This would be a good time to collect myself.

But I didn't need 12 months to regroup.  At first, the puzzles mollified me.  A few things got cleaned that needed it.  I increased my meditation and study.  These were all good.  But 12 months?  There was no way I was going to stay away from grandkids and kids for 12 months, and they pretty much stayed in the same bubble protocols as we did, so I didn't have to give up visiting. 

Now, in the 12th month, I have had some new revelations.  I have learned to love the space I am in.  I like being in the rooms of my house.  That may sound like an obvious thought, but I mean that I actually take time to enjoy a picture or an item, sometimes for its inherent artistry, its source - the aura of its presence adds a color or a memory.  I love my yard and gardens. They speak to me; I speak to them.  (They really need some encouragement right now.)

This kind of quiet presence in the company of great blessings, I must admit I haven't always held.  I'm usually on the clock, or worse yet, a stopwatch for activities. 

A pandemic lull has been the place I have really learned to linger.  In some fashion, I am at peace in a new way.  I don't want to go back to "normal."  I want to rest, take in nature and humanity, my own and others.  I want to continue some sense of deeper knowing that I didn't have before.  My words are slack in telling it, but I want to stay where this pandemic has put me.

I have given much thought to this:  Do less so you can be more.

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