Day 76
I’ve been thinking about all of my past selves. The lovelorn high school student. And college student. The aspiring MFA candidate. The suddenly fatherless daughter. The lapsed big sister. The newly in love. The young professional. The new mother. The working full-time mother.
Where does one me end and and the other begin? Or do the me’s melt together like a, what, ball of multicolored Play-Doh. It’s not a question, really. There is no metaphor that works, because there is no answer. I am an evolution. We all are, if we are lucky. And evolution, as it turns out, isn’t easy. And doesn’t happen quickly. And, most important, the most recent me or you isn’t necessarily the truest or the best.
Other things I’ve been thinking about:
We can each only be absolutely responsible for our individual selves.
There have been defining moments in my life that I have not recognized as such at the time were defining.
Deep thoughts while walking are beginning to make my walks less stress relief and more heavy heart.
The numbers, because it’s been a long time since I’ve focused on the current data, and the reason for beginning this narrative, more than 11 weeks ago.
Worldwide, there have been more than 6 million confirmed positive cases.
366,000 deaths.
In the United States, there have been nearly 1.7 million positive cases. And more than 101,000 deaths.
There is so much more news. The president fighting Twitter for fact-checking one of his tweets. The president cutting ties with the World Health Organization. Another black man killed by police. Subsequent protests. The news is all pain and distress. Sometimes we watch it together as a family and I feel completely unprepared to have discussions with my children about racism and hatred and police brutality and people who refuse to wear masks and a president who is so far from a leader that I don’t want even to utter his name. But to ignore it all, to pretend it’s not happening and that we are just here in our bubble of family of our own choosing is not an option either.
As states begin to reopen there are signs that our lives will not be back to normal any time soon. The high schoolers in my house have been asked by the administration to revise their course registrations for next year. No word yet on what the year will look like. If the kids will go back and if they do how things may be different. No word yet on when I might go back to my own office, though I anticipate I could be home for much of the next academic year.
It’s hard to live in the unknown. It’s hard to measure success when there’s no structure to measure against. It’s hard to be someone who thinks and thinks all the time and can never get to any kind of closure. It’s hard to evolve through the scrutiny of one’s every thought and action. It’s hard to live when the days are full of time for inspection and introspection.
I wonder if I’ll be more willing to participate in the world when we are freed of the imminent threat of this virus. If I will be ready to interact. To gather. To go out just for the sake of going out. Or, if I will have adjusted, accepted, evolved, into a person who is comfortable with what being at home can be.
Stay safe, everyone.