I feel like the whole world is holding its breath right now, waiting for whatever it is that will come next.
We wait for this pandemic to be done. It will be. It will end just as the last pandemic ended, but we cannot be sure when that will be. We can only do our part. We can only wait it out being mindful to do everything within our power not to be a part of the spread.
Is it inconvenient? Sure.
Am I sick and tired of it? Yes.
But the truth of it is that the pandemic is not over. This is a plain and simple fact. Throwing up my hands and shouting that I'm tired of all this and I'm not going to do 'it' anymore (whether 'it' be social distancing, not eating out, wearing a mask, avoiding crowds, or any other common sense rule) would be simply childish.
We're also waiting for this election to be over. The rhetoric is high, and the divisions very real. I live in a red county. There are divisions within the community I live in. The divide is very wide even within my own family. Signs. Letters to the editor. Graffiti. Flags flapping in the wind: "TRUMP 2020 FUCK YOUR FEELINGS" or the yellow "DON'T TREAD ON ME", the ubiquitous confederate flags. I know that I will be accused of being one sided, but the signs that are being stolen are almost always NOT the Trump signs. The signs being spray painted with the florescent pink words "nigger lover" are not red, they are blue.
I have always felt that this is not a time to be silent, and I am not. I am one of those letter writers. I debate online. My family knows who I am and what I think, and in some cases, I pay a price for that. A heavy one. I make it a point to never discuss politics in a family setting, and sometimes it is hard, especially when someone else initiates it. I try to find a dish that needs washing. (As opposed to a pot that needs stirring, I guess.)
I am not working right now. I am not sure that the company I work for will survive this. I've got family who work there still, and if this plant closes, it will affect my community in a very big way. By extension, it will affect our apartment rentals. In the end, it will ultimately affect Tim and I financially. I try not to think that far ahead, because as they say, 'the worries of the day are sufficient'.
I rarely go out. Just quick jaunts out to get groceries. Trips to the retirement property to tend to chores there. But mostly, I am home and tending to the chores here (while I was working, housework was very hit and miss). In between, I do my cyptic puzzle. I study my history books. I write letters to people I don't see much of.
I am on the inside looking out these days. Along with the rest of the world, I wait for these strange days to end.
Lately another question has been troubling my mind. In addition to "When will this be over?" I find myself really pondering "What will we be when this is done?"
Will life go back to what it was?
I don't know.
I think about my childhood friend. Our relationship is awkward right now. We've always talked freely and now we do not. We guard our words. Another friend that I've always held in high esteem publicly announced that I was a "former friend".
What will we be when this is done?
And I think about Rumi's words: "Out beyond ideas of rightdoing and wrongdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there.