We are right in the middle of May and while some of us might be heads down at the office already, some are probably finding their minds wandering aimlessly, this time of year.
Most friends I talk to, have a default reaction to any news about the virus these days i.e. to ponder, build momentary anxiety and then to get back to work. For many others, whose family members have to step out to work everyday, it is pure fright day in and day out.
Being resilient in the face of a crisis is a complicated game. Not for ones like me. I worry a lot. But then, without a sense of humor and entertainment, I begin to feel lost. I found the medicine to my pandemic induced baseless overthinking. When people at home wonder about the time I spend on spiritual reading and endless writing, I figured I can blame the coronavirus for all of the time it has given me to reflect, dream and fantasize about my future, how I will make up for everything lost and carry the dreams forward with a multiplying effect.
Yes most likely, Iam, like most of you, daydreaming of the same place–the beach, the hills or the green tropical forest camps.
While in the present tense each morning, nothing beats stepping out of a warm shower and settling down to writing post completion or yet, my imaginative accomplishment of household chores.
While the unending lockdown has already spoilt our mood in terrible ways with all the time spent away from our now supremely valued physical freedom and social relations, things look exciting to me when I read how some people stay level headed and enjoy their little holidays in the balcony.
I figured I can use the time and get my little garden pots in shape. And at other times, when the sun goes down, grab a moment, listen to music and imagine myself on a beach.
The rolling waves, the warm sun, the salt smell, the sand under my feet, the beach represents the ultimate in relaxation for many of us.
But why is that? Why does this one particular kind of place call to us in such an irresistible way?
Very tough though, I must say, to stay in that momentum, with hubby on office calls round-the-clock and the kids beating the hell out of my limited patience.
I rest in the promise that I may not be able to travel now, but I can derive most of my joy from the process of planning a trip anyway.
And for those of us, again this includes also me, who look at even taking a happy walk to the neighbourhood grocery store or random park visits a far fetched occurrence, I feel I am living hell each day.
I can’t stress enough, how much I worry and build up on my anxiety by imagining this has no end day. Fortunately, the Mr, is a good samaritan and redirects me to my spiritual glass, which I comically have great difficulty in holding on to.
Eventually, I survive each day by knowing for sure, that each day will pass and I must maintain a rhythm and routine for each day. One that can really fill me up and give me a hopeful sense about life ahead.
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