The early days of pandemic isolation
have felt familiar. It took about a week to articulate it: these days
at home feel very much like the early days after my divorce. Five
years ago, I was disoriented by all the extra time I had on my hands
without my daughter. She had been by my side for her entire eight
years, and I really didn't know what to do with myself. I stayed in
because I didn't have the money to go out, and I didn't want to admit
how lonely and scared I was. I ached with sadness, fatigue, and fear
of the unknown. In today's isolation, though I am concerned about my
family's health and how the devastated economy will affect my work, I
feel lighter and freer. There is some comfort knowing I am not alone
in these worries or spending all of this time at home.
Long before I self-identified as a
gardener, I was cultivating the soil of my heart and mind. I worked
hard to make fertile the ground in which a new life could take root. I am
grateful today for that toil and sweat. I am in a much better place
to take on the challenges of this hour. I have practice under my belt
in navigating the unknown. I spent yesterday in bed reading soothing
my worried self about what would happen if I lost my job. I gave
myself the day to sit with those scary thoughts and began imagining
that scenario and made some plans.
Today I woke up feeling stronger, made
a list of things I would like to accomplish—this blog post being
one of them—and can say when I hit publish, I will have crossed off
every single one of the items plus also mowing my lawn, which was not
on the list. (Thank you sunshine!)
The following list are things I have
done to fill my time or found especially joyful as I stay at home to
do my part in flattening the curve of this damn virus.
Tulips, Daffodils, and Hydrangeas
One afternoon last
autumn, I planted 60 bulbs. I had underestimated how hard the work
would be particularly trying to plant the bulbs in the rocky soil up
my hill and around the base of a tree whose root system was an
invisible tangle below the surface. Under my breath, I had a few
choice words and muttered that these bulbs “had better take root
next spring!” While in isolation, those beauties did indeed appear,
and they have been a comfort. We have had a
lot of wind, and those blossoms remind me how life is both fragile
and sturdy. Some blossoms lost the fight and ended up in a vase in my
living room while others have toughed it out bending with the gales.
I also planted two
hydrangeas around my patio last summer. They didn't fare well, and I
assumed that they wouldn't come back this spring. I was wrong! Both
plants have new growth, and I am so excited to watch how they develop
into stronger, beautiful plants this year. This gardening life is a
constant teacher showing me how to live a deeper, richer life.
Nailbiting
If you told me
that during a pandemic, I would STOP BITING MY NAILS, I would not
have believed you. It isn't logical. This is the scariest, most surreal time I have ever experienced, and yet I do not feel compelled to
chew nervously on my nails. I am sure that being conscious of the
importance of keeping my hands away from my face and the constant
hand washing is helping, but it's still a silver lining in this
nightmare scenario.
New Pet
I adopted a
one-year-old blue tick coon hound two months ago. I had been talking
myself out of canine companionship since after my divorce, and then one week in February, the prospect
of having a dog seemed like the right next step. I fell in love with
my dog from a photo on the rescue's Instagram feed. We met her, she
put her paws in my daughter's lap within moments of meeting each
other, and I was convinced we needed each other. We named her Ivy
Valentine. My daughter is so happy to have a dog, and still can't
believe it happened “at Mom's house!” Ivy has completed the
Mahoney Girls Household. The timing of her adoption feels divine. Her
company is a comfort in these days of isolation.
Shopping Local and Doing Good
When I buy books
(which I don't do often because, libraries) and soap, I have
committed to shopping local. These two stores are next door to each
other, and they are female owned. I want these businesses to weather
the pandemic, so I am doing my part.
There has been
such an emphasis on volunteerism during this shelter-at-home time,
and I just haven't had it in me to step out my door. My introversion
has kicked into high gear, and I just want to stay inside. It
was wearing on me that I wasn't doing my part. In time,
I placed my first online stamp order (such a great assortment!), and
began writing letters to friends who come to mind. This practice
reminded me that this is my contribution. Writing letters is
what I DO. I tune into the comments of friends online and note when
it sounds like someone could use a pick-me-up. I also pay attention
to the names who come to mind, and use that nudge as a sign that
that's the next person to write. Since I've been writing letters
regularly, my anxiety about not doing enough has diminished.(And I'm also doing my part in supporting the USPS.)
The self-care
measures I have implemented in the past five years are serving me
well now. I am grateful that I am familiar with signs that I am in
need of extra nurture and know how to offer that to myself. This
self-knowledge is an immeasurable gift in the days of coronavirus.
