Not Ready
This week is the first time I’ve felt like I want to be able to go out and about freely again. Yet when there’s discussion about trying to return back to normal, my immediate response is no, not ready!
Maybe because there’s not any evidence of any system in place to suppress the spread of the virus, like testing and tracking? But there’s also part of me that has been craving this reprieve from the busyness and striving. I am getting to sleep in a natural rhythm with a lot of quiet, solitude, and introspection.
I’m getting more going within time and leisure time. I’m feeling so much more peaceful and grounded. I feel like I’m being held and loved on by life itself. It’s been a healing time for me. I get to tend to parts of myself I neglected in this space I’ve been graced with.
I feel weird about being grateful because we’re in a collective crisis. Of course, I am sorrowful when I see that people I know are sick and some have also died, and all of the people trying to save them, it’s a powerless feeling to know that no matter how hard we try, there is pain and loss.
I send out love, what else can I do? I take comfort in my spirituality, my belief in the eternal oneness we share. In the grander reality, we’re all together in spirit and we’re doing fine forever. What harm is there in believing in something beautiful? It helps me grieve more gracefully.
I feel tender, raw, and open like a part of me is growing a new limb or something? It’s like I’m shedding or molting and I need to wait until everything is good to go before I venture out again. Maybe that’s part of grieving, part of adapting to a new reality, or transitioning?
It feels like my heart is pouring catching me off guard and I have to be still, be ginger and allow it to dissipate, leaving me flushed and breathless. It’s sometimes grabbing and catching, my heart takes hold and I am stopped in my tracks, the love welling up as tears burning behind my eyes. I love this whole of us so much, it overcomes me. And then I inhale deeply, take a long exhale and let it go.
What’s next I think. Gotta wait and see.
In the meantime, I’m relishing the time to just be…more often. I aspire to be productive, then most days I fall short of my daily agenda, though some progress is better than none, I reassure myself. I tried on my jeans and they still fit, lol… I make a good recluse, lol.
I haven’t worn makeup the past 3 weeks, that’s a record for me. I begrudgingly plucked my brows today, lmao. I thought my skin would improve without the goop but still got chin zits, lol.
I wonder how long I can go without feeling the need to put my face on? Can I be strong and stay makeup-free? Why can’t I make myself be more like men are, they don’t wear makeup and are fine? It’s so ingrained in me. Why does it matter to me?
Can I be confident and sure of myself enough to not care about what I look like? To not be so invested in the externals, like my physical appearance? Where’s the boundary of wanting to feel attractive and societal dictates as what’s viewed as attractive? Can I feel attractive without the goop? Am I dependent on it? Does it matter really? Will I ever outgrow this or solve this riddle? Don’t I have better things to be investing my energy in? Just something that baffles me. We expend so much on frou frouing it up, lol.
What changes will I take with me or actively pursue post-pandemic? I know I will be more grateful that’s for sure and will live more deliberately, mindfully, and appreciatively. I will take more risks and live more courageously, not taking as much for granted.
I will remind myself to stay present, open, and forgiving so as not to waste precious life on close-mindedness, judgment, and pettiness. I will play, laugh, explore, connect, engage, and share more unabashedly. I will drop my defenses and live lightly. I won’t abandon my creativity as before and will feed that wild child and set her free. And I will give and express more, go bigger, not sacrificing as I’ve done in the past, I’ll get to the win-wins, yeah.
Aspirations, love and hope.
