Being home during this pandemic I am hard-pressed to make this time valuable in terms of finishing home projects and slowing life down to enjoy my kids and find a new rhythm of cherishing time. It feels off to write about my thoughts as others are facing grave sickness and the passing of family. Caretakers risking their lives and the hum of industry being kept afloat by workers meeting our needs. It changed so suddenly, but now I am looking to new ways to be of service to my community, while staying at home.
I began this quarantine by doing. Redoing K's room, hanging art, growing seedlings and cooking round the clock, it seems. I use my body to work through my thoughts. I move my body to find an outlet for uncertainty. To drive anxiety about change into the air, lifting and sent to the heavens for washing. I pray to be grounded like an oak, with wisdom, mindfulness and thoughts of peace.
Five weeks in and these thoughts of mine are turning in on me. They are being pressed up against my mind and forced back in. Restlessness...my familiar internal nemesis of fear that keeps me flitting from thought to thought, acitivity to activity, keeping me from settling in for the joy. It scatters me and I am not sure at times where the pieces are. It often feels like they are floating just above me. I wish they would just settle into a person that is steadfast in all ways. Some times I wish I was a person that knew more about what I didn't like than wanting to be someone who bounces from idea to idea, reckless abandon of one started project or activity to the next. The dandelion. Sometimes the blooming flower, sometimes scattered seeds in the wind, planting somewhere new, learning the surroundings even though it's the same patch of grass.
...hours later I come back to this and a shift in perspective. Almost sad at my negative view. Yes, I can be a bit unsure, uncertain of concrete ideas, but I have to think that this is also the beauty in my flaws. I can look at it like flitting or finding, uncertain or curious. Trying new things out until something either becomes habit or ritual, though I suspect I will always be on the move to find what those are exactly. What it is that keeps me curious or longing seems to be just near, like a hot breath of dragon ready to consume, yet taunting in the chase. Luring and leaving me to follow. I know though as I write these words I feel closer to habit and ritual and closer to taming the animal.
Then I think these thoughts again, as I've written before in a hundred different ways, a hundred different times.
When younger or when older. It's when you decide when you need to express your soul. When you've thought it enough, when you've said it enough, when you've heard it enough and when you listen in the wisdom between the words from an online post, in passing, from family, from friend, or spouse or child; and especially when you finally meet your soul and say-I've been seeking and questioning as all these messages have been filtering through, although you wait on me. So, let's go- Let's be whatever, now.
