Tuesday, March 24

I got back out for a walk yesterday. I am acutely aware that this freedom may be temporarily revoked at any moment and am savoring the 90 minutes spent in nature, alone, exercising, and — often — talking on the phone with Sarah.

It was chilly, snow still on the ground from Monday’s storm. There were fewer people, and except for the teenage couple canoodling and holding hands, everyone was keeping distance from everyone else. The teenagers, though.

I’m still having trouble focusing. I’m a master multitasker, which often is crucial in my usually very busy life. These days, though, I have time. I have time to spend with my kids and my partner. Time to cook dinner without needing to cram it in between kids’ activities. For two weeks now, since the first recurring kid activity was cancelled, my family of five has been eating dinner together at the same time and in the same room. To say that this is rare is an understatement. Also, because my workspace is currently set up on our one-and-only table, we are eating on couches and futons and the floor in front of the TV. Together is together, and I’ll take it.

The kids are doing remarkably well. They are in good spirits. The bickering and teasing has not escalated beyond “normal” levels. They are sleeping more, and I’m glad about that. I can’t think of any reason not to encourage more sleep.

We learned today of cases closer to us. Family members who are directly affected, as patients and healthcare workers. I am internally bracing myself for more news like this.

All day I think and think and think. My brain fires with questions and I search and search online for answers. How many cases today? What regions are hardest hit? Is there a better source for this news? These updates?

Here’s what I see, right now, in this moment, knowing that as I type this, the numbers are changing:

• Total cases worldwide: More than 450,000

• In the U.S.: More than 62,000

• In Massachusetts: More than 1,100

• In my county: 8

I just read Sarah’s post for today. I want to be able to write a narrative like this. I want to remember what that is like. I want to reclaim my ability to think a thought through to the end. To not feel I need to cram in the writing between work and meals and being here, there and everywhere for my family. It’s interesting to me, that the internal challenges that I feel now are so similar even when the circumstances are so different. That I am struggling to figure out how to do the things I most want to do now, the same struggles I usually have, except usually I blame the lack of time for my own feelings of lack of progress. This is good for me to think about. And to realize early on, for I do believe we are early on in this process, in this new world. It’s good for me to try to acknowledge all of this and then to claim it and to move ahead. To find what I need and to do it. Like the daily walks. And doing the dishes because they are there.

I have ridiculously high standards of my own intellectual engagement, organization, balance. I’m realizing this more on a daily basis. I’m realizing that while I’m here, at home, for the duration that my brain is still my brain. That I am still me. Still messy. Still optimistic. Still complicated.

Stay safe, everyone.