Another morning. The days run into each other, I pause to think – it is Aug. 2, I believe, and I’m hell-bent on making some small but significant change to interrupt the monotony of this prolonged pandemic shutdown – and to rekindle a fresh mix of productivity and action.
This my favorite part of the day – on my back porch, coffee in hand and quiet all around. The yippy neighborhood dogs are still asleep. The punching bag in a nearby makeshift garage gym is not yet rumbling. A soft breeze touches my skin, gentle and soothing with its heavy moisture. The hummingbirds who finally found me after three months buzz across the landscape.
I have had difficulty resuming this blog – it was based on being a business Womantraveler! My imagination is completely stuck. Five months, so much material. Coronavirus, coronavirus, coronavirus. Writing about that only amplifies my frustration. Loneliness, distance, anger, adaptation. So many journal entries, self-help articles, historical reflections, even books to be mined. Not for me. It all rattles around in my head each morning, but I’ve rarely been inspired to do more than let it drift by.
A Womantraveler, 150,000 miles on airplanes last year – busiest year ever – grounded abruptly. So many plans for this year, now I travel to clients by Zoom. It’s not the same, although I do relish the energy from regular contact with them. I still feel STUCK.
Funnily, creativity is starting to simmer – it’s time to observe and refresh the palette, to chronicle and share my experiences. We’re all in this together – what are we learning about ourselves?
Reframing now: it’s a beautiful morning really. The humidity is high, softening the intense heat, and there is a light breeze instead of that suffocating stillness that has opened nearly every day for the past month. Dare I imagine that the seasonal cycles haven’t been fully altered and this August will once again bring mornings that are perceptibly slightly cooler,a degree or five, signifying the approach of autumn? The moon was bright and high last night but the nearly 100 percent humidity made it was unbearable to sit outside. Approaching Tropical Storm Isaias’ disruptive forces signal a 10-degree temperature drop tomorrow. Even if the relief is short-lived, it will possibly begin to unwrap stifling heat dome coupled with the oppressive coronavirus shutdown that has smothered us all summer.
I used to welcome these occasional deadly slow days as a respite between airports and client cities. Now the most daily variety I can muster away from Zoom is to venture to Whole Foods (where the clientele respects the pandemic restrictions), drive to a neighborhood with massively leafed trees for a change of scenery, hit golf balls or take a walk. There are no heights of pleasure, only plateaus and the occasional valley.
I’ve tried to keep a semblance of a routine, following my advice to clients and friends as well. The house has its “zones” to mix up the “places” I go for work and for downtime. I honor the weekends, which means staying out of the office upstairs if possible, avoiding the news and reading for pleasure. I hike every Saturday morning, Facetime with friends in California, Virginia and Florida on Saturday evenings and Facetime with my far-away family on Sundays.
Rituals are important, too. The emails arrive en masse around 7:20 am, along with the news updates. I mentally calendar breakfast, lunch, dinner. I try to be faithful to my weekly exercise program, a mix of online images from my trainer and YouTube videos. The construction crews for the unfinished homes around me charge in loudly around 8 am (six days a week). The sprinklers routinely erupt at 4:30 Tuesday-Thursday-Saturday. People occasionally walk by, for exercise, with strollers, but no one engages. We are hiding out inside, stuck, grumpy.
Each day I organize around a small project (in addition to a slower pace of client work) to differentiate today from yesterday. If this portends retirement, I’m years from ready!!
I’m a grounded nomad, wandering through my days, without a predictable direction since we don’t yet know where all this is headed.
