Mel’s Monday Musings: April 6, 2020

Hi! It is/was Monday, right? πŸ˜‰

How are you? (How you are, no matter what form that takes today, is always OK to be/feel. I know sometimes it seems like there’s an expected way-to-be or how to feel, but we’re not all the same person; we don’t all process life and various events the same way or on the same timeline.)

I have chocolate and (later) a margarita, so I’m alright today. πŸ™‚

But there are days when it doesn’t feel alright, and that’s normal too. I’m sporadically keeping a paper Covid-19 journal, in case I care to look back at it or for historical perspective if someone stumbles across it generations from now, or just because sometimes putting pen to paper is cathartic..I don’t know which of those it is, or maybe it’s all three to varying degrees.

It’s hard to give yourself a mental break from something you physically cannot escape (the reality of quarantine in a global pandemic). I learned to make masks nine or ten days ago. Two days ago, I finally made friends with my sewing machine for the first time in…years, if ever. And I am so slammed with mask requests (and masks I am determined to send out to those I love who won’t ask but need them) that I cannot get away from this pandemic even in my thoughts, even with my hands. I sew masks every day until my shoulders are on fire.

And although I wish the reasons were different, I’m grateful to be useful.

I didn’t see that coming, my new little role, when I put up the Rosie the Riveter poster on one of my porch windows at the beginning of quarantine. I didn’t think I would really “be involved” beyond helping people find reasons to keep on keepin’ on. It’s gratifying and a bit terrifying all at the same time.

I didn’t see a lot of this coming, frankly — none of us did (well, *some* people did, but they chose to ignore it…but that’s another post altogether). And I don’t want to end this on some pithy note like, “We’re all in this together” or “We’re gonna survive this pandemic together” even though it’s absolutely true. Nobody is exempt from this crisis, and everyone matters. Your choices affect the outcome for everyone. That’s overwhelming sometimes…but also maybe reassuring in a very backhanded kind of way, that there really is a place for each of us in the tapestry of All Things.

(Hint: it’s somewhere inside your home right now. πŸ˜€ )