This past week there’s been what has felt like a shift, at least here in Brooklyn, in the stages of grieving our old lives. Those of us who aren’t mourning lost loved ones seem to be moving from the acceptance stage of grieving our old normal into the next stage. We’re moving from survival mode – just getting through each day/ staying out of the hospital/ not leaving our homes – to a more sustainable kind of living. At least, it feels that way anyhow. I’ve been focused in the past few days on how to live a quality life with the limitations we have. For me, that means near daily walks (with a mask, socially distant, yada yada), engaging in some hobbies (gardening on the deck, doing jigsaw puzzles, reading books, taking zoom pilates classes, and watching Schitt’s Creek), calling or FaceTiming or texting with friends and family as often as I have energy for, having fresh flowers on the dining table, and eating well (I don’t consider cooking a hobby because at this point of my life, it’s more a chore than a pleasure, but I do try out new recipes and aim for healthy eating). Drew and I are also trying hard to make this as enjoyable an experience for the kids as possible, while still carving out some personal time for ourselves which, as any parent of kids under 10 right now can tell you, is a challenge, but we try our best which is all any of us can do.
What’s it like where you are? Has there been any discernible shift, in behavior or attitude or energy, as the third month of this comes to a close? If you’re feeling quarantine fatigue, how are you dealing with that? If you live some place that is starting to re-open, what does that look like? Are people still respecting social distance guidelines?
I hope however you spend it, the weekend is as good as it can be for you. Here are a few links you might find interesting:
Parenting in Quarantine: NYTimes readers describe the parent-employee-teacher trifecta during the pandemic. Spoiler: there’s a lot of screen time these days.
“I knew a singalong wasn’t likely to become a neighborhood pastime. I wanted to sing anyway.
And so, one evening, I leaned out my bedroom window and started singing a rendition of “New York, New York.” My voice was ringing down the alley, and by the end of the song, neighbors were applauding from their windows and calling for an encore. I sang for my neighbors every night for the rest of the week. I had been so alone in my apartment that it didn’t even occur to me there were hundreds of other people, sitting alone in theirs, just a few feet away.”
— from a poignant collection of passages in The New York Times about what it’s like to live alone during the pandemic.