A Pandemic Is Not A Snowstorm

Those middle-of-the-night epiphanies? If you can remember them - which is always a big "if" - they often don't have the same resonance in the daylight that they carried in the wee small hours of the night.

Last night I had a clarity awakening and this morning - surprise of surprises - it still felt true.

I realized that I have been treating this pandemic like it's a blizzard. I've been enduring and waiting.

You know, like you spend time wondering and betting how many inches or feet you're going to get. You wait for the snowfall to slow down so you can shovel the sidewalks. You wait for the snowplows to get to your street. You bake brownies and cookies and cakes, thinking that you're living time out of time so none of the indulgences will actually count.

But this pandemic is not like a blizzard. Not at all.

Enduring and waiting has only made me frustrated, anxious and mad.

No, what's happening now is a total shift in the way I live today and will live for the foreseeable future. A client who works in a big company says they are planning to have to deal with this virus and its impact at least until June, 2021.June. 2021.So what I need to do for myself is wrap my arms around the is-ness of this new life.

Which means I need to embrace the necessity of exercising at home, and the non-negotiable need I have to take a brisk walk every day.

I need to eat smaller portions because I'm using fewer calories.

I need to drink less alcohol because as I mentioned *calories* and if you don't really know what day it is, how can you keep track of how many glasses of wine you've had?

Taking care with my schedule is even more important because it creates guideposts for the day.

If I can create something everyday - intentional creativity - I will grow an important part of my brain.

Connecting with family and friends routinely rather than happenstance-ly will ease my loneliness.

Prioritizing my rest, keeping my environment tidy, dressing the way I want to dress that day (and showering, let's not forget that) are things I can do to ensure a good quality of life.

And, helping others is a thing I will always do. If I'm running to CVS to pick up a prescription or to the grocery store every other week, you know I'll be reaching out to neighbors to see if they need something.

My new normal is markedly different from my very-recent normal in that I'm no longer enduring, no longer waiting.

I'm living. I'm improving. I'm learning. I'm growing. I'm helping.

All within a container that is safe for me, and safe for you, and safe for all of us.

Hell of an epiphany, huh?