Was sulking all day yesterday. We have hit the one-year mark on Covid. I miss potlucks. I miss restaurants. I miss vacations and travel. I miss my friends. I miss the freedom to run into the store on a whim to pick up some fresh flowers. I miss my daughter, who now lives in her own apartment so she doesn’t constantly put her parents at risk. Everything is so much more planful. I miss spontaneity. Leaving the house to run errands requires a risk vs. reward calculation. Hitting the milestone of 500,000 lost to Covid in the Unites States is gut-wrenching. Clearly many people have risks they cannot avoid (like working) and many are severely miscalculating. I’m exhausted from the constant calculation.
Also, I was cooped up during the snow and ice. My husband was outside chopping up downed tree branches and dragging them out of the street. He shoveled the sidewalk and walkways. But I foolishly stayed inside and missed the exercise and fresh (although freezing cold) air. Not a good decision for my mental health.
At the end of my day of sulking I got a text from a friend that said:
My sister had her water pipes break, then a kitchen fire, then she fell on the ice getting the dogs in the car before fire truck arrived. Probably broken wrist but they have been too busy to go to ER.
Never have I gone from sulking to gratitude so quickly. We kept our power. We kept our water. We stayed comfortable and were even able to enjoy the beauty of the snow and ice. We all lived through it without hypothermia, broken bones, broken pipes, carbon monoxide poisoning, car accidents or the hardship of days and nights of freezing temperatures without power.
I sent her a text back:
We are all fine here. I’m a little bored some days; plenty I could be doing but lack motivation. You have helped me remember there is the wrong kind of excitement, and now I remember to be grateful. Love and miss you.
John Lewis used to say, find “good trouble”.
“Never, ever be afraid to make some noise and get in good trouble, necessary trouble.” –John Lewis
There is good excitement (which I miss) and there is the not-good excitement from disasters and tragedies. There are worse things than boredom. Now that I think about it, I spent a decade in therapy learning how to give up constant drama, constant self-inflicted disaster, and be a bit boring. It is never too late in the day to look at things from a fresh, more grateful perspective.
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