A glimpse at the last 15 books I’ve read.
Day 173
We are nearing the six month mark of living a life of suspended normalcy. The words don’t come as easily as they did earlier on, either because I don’t allow myself to be here as often or because of the general malaise and fatigue of what it truly means to live and stay alive during a pandemic. Or because I continue to feel self indulgent, processing in somewhat real time how I am coping. Or because being here sometimes feels like procrastination from other creative pursuits. The two book manuscripts I have that I know are solid first drafts and also that I haven’t permitted myself the possibility of taking them to the next step.
I’m very, very, VERY good at getting in my own way.
I have been having trouble sleeping again. I thought I was over that hump, after several weeks of interrupted sleep from a kind of full-time agitation, I had rediscovered my rhythm. But lately, for the past few weeks or so, I’m back to the 3 a.m. wake-up. My reading glasses and Kindle always within arm’s reach, I keep myself quiet and occupied during the hour or more that my brain is buzzing, and then I doze off again, if I’m lucky, until 7 or so. It’s not awful, honestly. It’s the only time the house is quiet — those few hours between about midnight and 5 a.m., when no one else is awake. Maybe my body is waking for the express reason of enjoying the quiet. It strikes me as a likely biological possibility.
My early morning reading jags have allowed me to boost my total books consumed for the year. I’ve just finished book number 71. By the end of next week I’ll likely have reached my 2020 goal of reading 75 books. And still with more than a quarter of the year left. I’m trying to actively choose to read books by authors of color and also to not need every book to be a literary journey. I’ve read more romances this year than ever before. And I’ve reread favorites. And abandoned plenty. And I’m generally jumping into books with less research than I generally do. Likely spending more time than is justifiable on “book Twitter.” Though every time I write about my reading habits I’m led to question why I feel the need to justify time spent reading, thinking about reading, researching reading, I don’t know. It all ties back to needing to do things well, efficiently, for a reason. And also, to not ever feeling I’ve achieved any of those things.
Last night we went to an outdoor concert at a friend’s house — all of us except the 16-year-old sports fan who stayed home to watch the Celtics-Raptors game. Being outside, in the summer, listening to good music and talking with friends I hadn’t seen in weeks or months turned out to be the most real activity of the whole season, I think. We slipped right back into what used to be a regular summer experience — frequent attendance at live music outdoors. And it wasn’t, as I realized I had feared, a painful reminder of all we’ve missed. It was a good time. To talk with others, just to catch up but also to commiserate. To see young kids popping bubbles from a bubble machine and dancing barefoot across the lawn. It all was just normal enough to feel good. Even masked, distanced, in someone’s yard instead of on the town common.
The numbers, which still scroll when we turn on CNN, something we do infrequently now.
Nearing 26 million cases globally.
More than 6 million in the U.S.
Nearly 185,000 deaths in the U.S.
More than 850,000 deaths worldwide.
About 9,000 deaths in Massachusetts. 140 of those in our county.
School starts two weeks from today. All remote. And the closer we get to that date the more I wish I was sending my kids back into the schools, where they could once again exist regularly outside of these four walls. See friends. Friends! Interact with different grown-ups. Have lives distinct from one another, walking the school halls, making new friends, feeling awkward and proud and nervous and accomplished.
It’s pretty near impossible to mirror school at home. The ecosystem that is a school is so much more than the curriculum, the assignments, the co-curriculars. And I am so hopeful that the kids will have the opportunity — the ability — to get back to that part of what it is to be a student and a learner and a developing human this year. I also want them to remain safe, of course. And I hope that as a society — whether the parameters of that society are citywide, statewide or, ideally, nationwide — that we can put education back at the forefront. That we can make education THE priority for school-aged kids. That as we all continue to respond and adapt to what it means to coexist in a world where the biggest threat to our health and economy and personal safety is invisible, we can come together to create a school model that might feel different or awkward or clunky but that also might be found to be better, more meaningful, fun. It’s time for a shake-up, I guess is what I’m saying. I just can’t imagine a world where everything just returns to the way it was in the before times.
That’s the biggest question of all, of course.
As I work from my desk in the corner of my house — or type from my bed on the other side of the wall — I listen as my kids practice piano, guitar. Shoot hoops in the driveway. Take a ballet class from their bedroom. Make snickerdoodles. Argue. Laugh. Fool around. I am awed by the developing people around me. By all they have endured and by how well they are all doing, FOR THE MOST PART. But also, I’d like to know that I will be launching them out into the world and that they will take with them all that they knew and learned in the beforetimes, all that they know and learned from pandemic restrictions and that they will each have the opportunity to be fearless, to try new things, to return to what they love, to coast through the familiar, to fail and to thrive and to be marked by covid-19 but not be restrained by it (forever).
Stay safe, everyone.