We must be in the top 1% when it comes to the actual quality of life we’ve had for the last six months. All the things that normally make our home inconvenient, the isolation and encroaching nature, make it a great place to sit-out a pandemic. We are up about 70 stairs from the street and where our backyard ends, a permanent open space starts. This morning I went for a walk – I just walked out of the house, down the stairs, and off on to the trail – and I didn’t see another person (although I did see a Tesla drive by on the street while I was on the trail). It is Summertime and the Living is easy, or it should be. But I read that President Trump is trying to shutdown the Post Office to improve his chances for re-election and I am almost instantly enraged.
Last night, we sat on our deck and had a shrimp salad with heritage tomatoes for dinner as we watched and felt the day end and the night come alive. Our life is good, and yet, when I read that the very conservative former governor of Ohio, John Kasich, is speaking longer than AOC at the Democratic Convention, I was instantly furious.
My life in quarantine is great and/but/still, behind that, under that, is a deep fear that masquerades as anger when it surfaces and acts out at the least provocation. Not so much fear for me or even the planet, which will be just fine in five million years or so, but fear for my country – which I must say, surprises me (and tickles me) a little – and even more, fear for us, earth’s people, for our home. It’s not like I wake up in the morning and say “Holy shit, the world is ending.”, I wake up and fed our cat, Precious Mae, and then go out on the back deck to greet my little cloistered world. It is hard to stand there and not be thankful to what ever process brought us together at this moment, and yet, and yet, that deep and subtle underflow of dread is there. We are destroying our home.
I’m retired and I don’t have to go to work, I don’t have to worry about my kids and school, I am here, safely feeling the season change, eating great meals. Still, the fear is there, not dormant, almost lurking, waiting for a reason to flare up into anger.
Steve
I am feeling exactly the same where you are! Brenda and I are certainly in the 1%, sheltering in place on our deck with a beautiful view of the Pacific.
And yet that feeling of dread creeps in every day. Perhaps the solution is to totally ignore the news! But then we’re just being ostriches.
Steve, I really get it. AND you must practice the SerenityPrayer. All I can do as an individual is use my metal straw, recycle as much as possible, and vote. I volunteered during the primary, and I may do that again. But that’s about the limit of my individual influence. Yes, that does bring up some “holy shit, what if…”. But if…. there will not be much I can do about that either. So breathe. It’s good for your heart Do you imagine the dinosaurs were filled with such angst? Find the good. My life span and yours are of no importance to the Universe.
Thanks Gail, you had me until the “dinosaurs” part. I was going to say that they are extinct but they are chickens now so I guess they didn’t. Breath…excellent advice.
Beautifully written and photographed as always. Does your rage lead to action? Where could it take you? I am too passive. I wish I could get in touch with rage.
Thanks, Linda. Over the years, I’ve worked on campaigns and marched in protests but nothing under Covid. Does Global Climate Change bother you?
Exactly right…and exactly [well maybe the dinners aren’t so elegant] like you; we’re the fortunate, yet deeply uneasy ones.