I owe everyone an apology.
I think I might have wished this pandemic into existence.
This time last year, I was not content. My career had taken a wrong turn, and I was exhausted. I felt mentally and physically depleted.
Summer was becoming autumn, and I dreamt of a different life. One in which I could sit on my porch on a gorgeous Tuesday mid-morning, sipping tea and observing the hummingbirds flirting around my hostas.
A life that included the freedom to rest on my couch if that is what my body was begging to do.
A weekly schedule that would allow me an unlimited dose of my three boys who had become men overnight while I finished up my undergraduate studies. My husband and I raised three beautiful, young adult males, but I was missing the best part.
I wished for the kind of life I yearned for when I went back to college at 39. The kind of when-I-feel-like-it syllabus, which being a writer could afford me.
Last summer flew by, as did autumn. My heart ached for one more year in the books and time spent doing what I wanted instead of what I had to do. And I wanted more.
More time to do less.
More one-on-one with my core people.
More slow breathing.
More communing with nature.
Less staring at walls and projects and screens.
Fewer hours spent going through motions.
Less effort used with little to no reward.
I could not see a way out. I felt the heaviness of depression creeping around. My soul was sad, heart overwhelmed. I began to focus my attention on an escape plan. A way to “be” that didn’t feel like a life sentence.
I sent my desires out in to the universe. Every spare second I had was spent calling out to whoever might be listening.
“Please save me.”
With that, my world changed. Our world changed.
It became frightening, and awful, and unimaginable. People were lost. So many people. Families suffered heartbreak and front-liners grew exhausted.
In the midst of this great tragedy of our lifetime, through the horror, something incredible happened.
I have been home for six months now. My job ceased to exist.
We are all safe. We are happy. My soul is at ease.
Of course, my heart cries for this awful time. For those who have been lost, and those who have lost them.
But, when the sun has just barely begun peeking over the clouds, and my teapot is steaming, and the hummingbirds are buzzing about, I calmly sit on my porch and reflect on the bad and the good that is happening around me.
Through the darkness, I have found myself and set my new intentions. And, I am blissful.