One thing I've noticed about this pandemic haze is that every day feels weirdly the same. I've been cycling through the stages of self-distancing grief: Netflix binges, self-care routines, drink-of-the-day experiments, new hobby exploration, and of course, sourdough everything.
I've likely tried more new activities and produced more projects than at any other time in my life. So why does Monday still feel like Thursday and February look remarkably like November? Perhaps it's because watching the delivery drivers walk away before opening the front door is not the same as placing a special gift directly into a friend's hand or chatting with the cashier about the weather. We can send and receive virtually everything we need through contactless delivery...except human contact.
Never in my life have I felt more deeply the lesson that we were not meant to journey through this life alone.
Zoom calls have been a lifeline, but lifelines are meant to be pulled into the safety of a boat or the firm stability of hard ground. I'm still holding on, but I am counting the days to reach the source of this lifeline and give my friends and family a big, long hug.
What lesson are you sitting with today?
Who or what has been your lifeline?
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