In wonder,
suspended,
we wander.
What even is this reality that we are sharing together now? How has the Covid-19 pandemic reshaped our existence? Our local perspective? Our global perspective? The manner in which we navigate daily life? How are we loving, creating, and relating to one another in new ways?
I can’t answer that question for anyone other than myself. For me, it’s meant engaging in new and evolving levels of introspection, being unemployed along with what feels like you-me-and-nearly-every-person-we-know, making FaceTime and Zoom dates with friends every week, negotiating safe displays of affection with family and friends, and learning to be creative about how to date in a moment of social distancing. I’ve found it all exceptionally meaningful, painful, valuable, tender, and nourishing.
All of this began for us here in the Pacific Northwest just as Spring was officially getting underway. Being a creatrix plant witch that follows and celebrates the solar and lunar passages through each season, it felt like driving gingerly along a beautiful country road, and then suddenly coming up against one of those parking space bumpers. JARRING. But so many other folks around me were getting jarred too, so…at least we were and are experiencing it together?
But how does “together” feel when it means that we have to grapple with the fact that we cannot physically gather together to grieve waves of deep and collective loss in so many forms? How do we address a desire for physical proximity and affection? Is it worth getting mad at a stranger, who is really just our neighbor, walking somewhat nearer than 6’ distance from us as we stroll through our neighborhoods to get some sun, some exercise, some mobile peace of mind? How do we protect ourselves? How do we hold ourselves?
This pandemic has reminded me just how vulnerable and connected we are to one another. We have the living right to root deeply into that reality. We should each have the audacity to be sad, vulnerable, in pain, building NEW fonts of joy and grief within and without, reexamining what connection looks and feels like, and writing symphonies of our love for one another and for this planet. Last Wednesday was a New Moon in Taurus and it was also Earth Day. Is the earth able to rest a bit right now? Can we just let her rest a little bit right now? Can we just let ourselves slow down, and rest right now? Can we?
Can we slow down enough to let ourselves reverse out of worn, rutted patterns? Can we take this opportunity to get curious about new ways to be tender and affectionate in the midst of a global pandemic? I hope so. I see it shifting within me and others. But are we enough to impact a noticeable shift? I hope so.
My dad has dementia, and he’s kind of young to have been diagnosed, so that is always a hard reality to remember every time I see him. He doesn’t really remember why we’re not hugging right now. I could tell him, but then I know he’ll forget. While he seems too young to have dementia - I mean, honestly, could everyone just NEVER be “old enough” to be have dementia…it’s pretty much the worst - he IS old enough that I feel the need to protect him from being too close to me. What if I am a carrier of the virus? I have my studio in my parents’ house now, and I’m in my studio 5 days a week right now to make masks, plant medicine, and create work that keeps me pandemic sane, so I suppose if I do have the virus, then we probably all do? Who knows? Still, the protective impulse with my dad feels like the best course. At least for now.
Regardless, he doesn’t understand what’s going on, and he comes up to my studio to let me know that he’s returned home safe from a walk with the dog. He comes in to my studio every time, without knocking, and I know this is asking too much for his condition…because I’ve tried asking, but I miss the convention of the knock on the door prior to entry. I think any other creatives will feel me on this. There are so many fields of protection we need to put on our creative time, we guard that flow of time and space in privacy and introspection. It’s enough of a challenge to learn to be graceful around this space that is supposed to feel private during non-pandemic times. I appreciate that this is a bratty thing to complain about, but I also know I am not alone in experiencing the minor irritations that accompany this moment.
In this moment I am learning how to have more grace around these minor intrusions. I’ve learned to be creative about ways to check in with my dad before I head up to my studio. I sense that he comes up just to check on things, to feel like he’s protecting the homestead. He’s a retired silversmith, so I have learned to relate to him through that creative work ethic, “Hey Dad, how’s it going? I gotta go up and get to work in my studio…those masks aren’t gonna sew themselves…” It seems to work for the most part. He still seems frustrated, and I just don’t really think there is really any way to get around that. It must feel really frustrating to be sort of trapped in your mind, in your body, in a muffled awareness of the world around you.
My father’s condition feels in some ways like a mirror for these times. We are all living in a moment of external limitations.
What size are the physical containers of protection that we wish to draw around ourselves? Our loved ones? Housemates? Friends? Co-workers, or our laid off co-workers? Romantic interests? For our love of life we want to reach out, but for the nature of life in this moment, we are set in isolation and social distancing for an indeterminate period of time.
These days, I have video chats for studio visits and happy hours with friends from all over. I get to join from video on a friend’s yoga class later this week. A witchy Beltane celebration via Zoom? Yeah, that’s happening. A first date for coffee on FaceTime with someone I matched with on Hinge? Yeah, that happened too. And it was really fun! Want to know more about that? Okay! I think we could all use a little levity in this tale of isolation, am I right?
So…we decided to meet again for a FaceTime dinner later that week. He made salmon and broccoli rabe, and I roasted chicken, potatoes, and sautéed greens. And that was fun too! We kept up texting one another every day. And that was fun too! So then, we decided to meet.
And that was fun too! We’ve mainly just walked places together, talking, getting carry out meals from the restaurants that are still open in town, and navigating feelings of mutual affection that can be acknowledged, but not…acted upon. It has literally taken a global pandemic for me to learn to date in a totally new way. We are bonding pretty strongly on food right now.
Physical boundaries have been drawn, and are respected. I mean, the sexual tension is also palpable. Like a third entity walking between us. Everywhere we go. So we talk about it. We give the tension space to exist, to build. It sort of reminds me of being very young and dating, but having all of my more mature social skills and experience to make the whole thing more fun, ridiculous, AND swoon-worthy. I gotta give us each a lot of props for taking this totally unique journey together.
We spend all of our time outdoors, and it’s Spring, so there’s plenty of beautiful flora to admire. We stop and take photos of completely different visual attractions. It’s…really sweet and wholesome, and I love it. I don’t know when we will be able to feel safe being physically affectionate, but we are letting ourselves be curious about what it’s like to be friends first.
And I made him some pretty dope protective masks for him to wear at his job. That’s like the pandemic equivalent of buying someone a really fancy round of cocktails, right? Or flowers? I even don’t know if there are “normal” comparisons anymore for this moment that we are living through together.
What even is “normal” now? Learning all these new ways to be affectionate, be connected, be tender, be vulnerable, show up for one another, draw boundaries, and demonstrate care has really been a challenge. And I want to acknowledge that my experience through this all has really been a fairly privileged one. I have family and friends who are healthy, unemployment benefits that are coming through regularly, a supportive community that is helping me learn new ways to grow my small business amidst a world with Covid-19. I decided to willingly step into the ebb and flow of this wild ride. This Great Pause. I am trying to be in my body, be in my feelings, stay rooted in my own needs and desires. I own my experience, while I learn new ways to participate in collective healing.
As Nora McInerny asked everyone last week in the latest episode of Terrible, Thanks for Asking, “How’s it going in there?”
How are you doing out there y’all?
I miss you, and I wish you all love, wellness, patience, resourcefulness, focus, and an abundance of enough.
In wonder,
suspended,
we wander,
together.