It unsteadied me. I always thought that anywhere you lay your head, anywhere the wind blows, should lull you into sweet, sweet lullaby. Maybe you close your eyes and see Tetris shapes falling, two by two, from too much Game Boy use. I used to fall asleep at night – seeing rows and rows of trees – and moose antlers hiding within the branches. Sweet, sweet rhymes and dreams. To block out the demons and storms. My own demons and storms were close enough to breathe down my neck. I never needed the thoughts of natural disasters and meteors, alien landings and zombies, witches, monsters, and global pandemics. They always seemed too far away, too big of a concept, to be real and realized. Another dimension, another time, and another lifetime.
You know that place between being asleep and being awake? And do you know that space between night and morning? For me, it’s 2:00am – 4:00am. Those are the witching hours. Every minute before then is just late night. Every minute after creeps slowly toward dawn. Dawn is a clean slate and fresh plate – it’s where you can almost forget the hauntings of the night before. If I’m ever to get haunted, it’s mostly in those witching hours. And by that, I mean bad dreams, storms and demons, and the spaces in between. Sometimes, even as bad as they get – and this is pretty much as bad as it gets, I hope (?) – morning comes with its fresh waves of sunlit amnesia. Maybe this will be the day the news changes, and takes the people and planet with it.
To a new dawn. A new beginning. Maybe it’s anywhere the wind blows. Who knows when and where it will lay you down, tuck you in, and finally, keep you safe and warm and still. Sleep tight.
I’ve always been more of a listener/observer, and a silent rebel, than an arguer or preacher or teacher. It’s like if you’re toggling between Fox News and MSNBC, watching the Facebook posts of the toilet paper hoarders, the ones making fun of the toilet paper hoarders, and then the ones making fun of the ones making fun of the toilet paper hoarders. “Why can’t we all just get along,” they wonder. And the thing is, we can’t. It doesn’t seem to be a human certainty and never has been. Some of us are fear based, and some of us are dumb, and some of us are brainwashed. Maybe every side sees the other side as one or all of those three things. Anywhere the wind blows – it sweeps us away and scatters us back down – and we all land differently.
Terrified and hopeful. Realistic, and out in left field, scared that the sky is falling. Strangely calm, yet sleepless – worried about the virus, the kids, the world, and how long it we’ll take to steady this rocking boat; to reel in this wild wind. I worry I have Coronavirus (despite zero symptoms and two weeks in isolation) and the next minute, I’m in control – ordering Easter basket goodies for my kids to maintain that sense of magic and normalcy. Chocolate bunnies hidden through the house. Of a house we’ve been in for weeks, and maybe, probably, there’s several weeks more.
Some moments feel almost normal. Almost. And others are the fear of losing loved ones, ourselves, everything. Just everything. And we’re probably the lucky ones in this. Yet will that always be so? And negotiating all of this against the pregnancy, with its fatigue and queasiness – only exacerbated by the stress. Nearly non-existent without it. How can I steady myself now?
When you silently listen, at least at first, because inaction isn’t your final destination, it allows you to play the long game. To learn so much. About bias and hate and fear and loss. You learn who you want on your side, and that it’s not necessarily choosing between two sides. There are many sides, colored and and sharpened by different brains and hearts; fears and losses. Don’t be lost. Don’t be brainwashed. Use your head and heart and hands (even if just to wash them).
Break it open
Water to repair
What we have broken”
I have shivered my way through my share of disasters, and I have slept through them too. When you’re me, and you’re already working through many issues and fears within the frame of your own life, it’s sort of staggering to work through your own issues against the backdrop of uncertainty and enormity. You know what I always do, though? I rise to meet and beat and defeat. And when it’s so much bigger than me, and it’s always bigger than me, I’ll never stop trying. Now is the time, and it’s always been the time, and it won’t be the last time either.
Tell all the passengers we’re going home”
I’m linking up with Finish The Sentence Friday (FTSF) for another fun prompt. This week’s topic is “Who Knows (Photo Prompt)” What’s on your playlist these days? Link up your post HERE.