You know that awful moment when you’re standing in the middle of the living room, wondering, “Why am I here?” No, not the existential “Why am I here?” as in your reason for living, but the more ordinary “Why did I just walk into this room?”
In the midst of choosing a piece of music, my dance instructor forgot which dance we were about to work on. He said he was having a “senior moment.” Given he’s all of 30, that was ludicrous, of course, but it totally got my hackles up. Saying “senior moment” to me, a senior, is not acceptable.
The phrase, “Follow your bliss,” was famously said by the author Joseph Campbell. It seems like one of those New Age truisms that we respond to with, “Sounds nice, but who can afford to do that? Rock stars? Celebrities? Very rich people?”
Nothing seemed to be going right. My Internet gave up in the middle of a Zoom meeting, my dog – a rescue mutt still learning the house rules – peed on a freshly washed towel hanging over a chair, and the work gig I was so confident…
It’s easy to get downhearted in these challenging times. Just when it seems things are finally getting better, there’s another eruption of bad news. It doesn’t matter whether it’s on the Covid front, violence in our communities…
You look around yourself at work. Every new hire is well under the age of 30 and the number of co-workers in their 50s and 60s seems to be rapidly vanishing. As you get into your 60s, you can’t help but wonder, “Am I next?”
A dear friend called me yesterday, distressed: “What am I supposed to do? Some people are wandering around town without masks, eating at outdoor patios with less than three feet between them. Isn’t that horribly dangerous?
When we were kids growing up, my sister was the cute one. She had it all. The button nose, the big beautiful hazel eyes, long lashes, rosebud mouth and the capper, freckles. She had THE most adorable spray of freckles across her nose – which she hated and I loved! I would have given anything for those freckles. Anything to break up the monotony of my pasty white face.
My car has a feature which I find totally annoying. When I’m close to what the ‘powers-that-be’ determined is my next required maintenance, a little box pops up on the dash-screen announcing “Maintenance required soon!” and stays on until I’ve acceded to its request.
We are an interconnected world, as we’ve discovered more powerfully than ever through the pandemic, and if that interconnectedness sometimes brings unwanted offerings, such as the virus, it also brings treasures, like that of kindness…