Vernal equinox

Everyone's reading the rules of engagement

And everyone's starting to doubt them

Everyone's reaching to put on a seatbelt

But this kind of ride comes without them

I want you to think of me sitting and singing beside you

I wish we could meet all the people behind us in line

The climb to the crest is less frightening with someone to clutch you

But isn't it nice when we're all afraid at the same time 

(Amanda Palmer- The Ride)

3.22.20

3.23.20

It's all changing so fast out there, isn't it? The epidemic went to pandemic and then lockdown in a few weeks.

My heart started skipping successive beats again. I am grateful that I got my xanax refilled right before things started getting crazy out there. It takes about an hour to kick in; maybe a few minutes less if I chew it or put it under my tongue before swallowing. Its important to recognize how critical time feels when you're waiting for something important.

There is a poignancy in the juxtaposition of the pandemic's 'arrival' in North Texas. As i'm watching the case counts go up I am also given time to watch flowers bloom and leaves return to the trees with my children. We just passed the vernal equinox, headed toward days filled with more light.

We are resetting.

As we suffer and fear globally, stories of kindness, ecological restoration and even people reaching out across partisan lines to check on neighbors. People are offering to shop for others who cant or shouldn't be out. Like we are waking up to remembering the  humanity that joins us, at least on this level. I love that. We are team human, not us vs. them. In isolated moments, I see people recognizing that more in the last few weeks than I have over the last few years.

Its been quieter. Less cars, less air traffic. I swear the air feels cleaner outside.

We are waiting for answers. We are waiting for supplies.

Mindfulness can come from fear of the unknown. I have found myself feeling things deeper, tasting food more fully, and appreciating rare moments of peace more than before. I don't know what's coming. I can't fathom the many different paths the world will react with after this is over.  But I know how much I love my family. I know how grateful I am that, for this moment, everyone remains well. When we emerge from this, I pray that we remember what it felt like to be afraid together.

How it felt to need to trust that everyone was going to do their part. To know that the future was no longer in your hands. To depend on your fellow humans for mercy and kindness.

In this season, we have a chance to do better. We need to take it. For the betterment of our quality of life, our families, our planet. 

I pray we are changed. I pray we are moving towards the light.