Live in the Moment

I woke up this morning—as I have for the past couple of weeks—poured a cup of coffee, wandered the twenty steps from my kitchen to the sofa and sat to watch the news. In a newly formed morning ritual, my dog Layla joined and snuggled as close as possible, as if sensing the hurt and grief of the world. To me, the news is devastating, even numbing. But, an urge to watch and to know overwhelms the sadness, as it is increasingly difficult to think about life outside of this virus. A creature of habit, a craver of routine, a learner, and a fixer, the days feel disrupted, heavy, and the uncertainty and disappointment nearly palpable.

In an effort to normalize what is anything but normal, I prepare for the day. I change from pajamas and head to my “office” at the dining table. There, I join my partner and we balance talking to coworkers and clients via Zoom for much of the day. His job has become all too familiar and I have never known so much about what he talks about all day. One of us stealthily prepares lunch (of random ingredients from the fridge & pantry), while the other is on a call. Layla typically offers the day’s biggest disruptions—barking at delivery trucks and Amazon vans, whose presence on our street has increased exponentially.

In between work and tasks, I busy myself with chores, walks, books, podcasts, TED Talks, and puzzles— anything to provide some semblance of routine and productivity. I have never been more thankful for our random collection of books, games, and puzzles. Evenings consist of neighborhood walks with the dog, longer than usual dinners, time around the fire pit, games, puzzles, phone calls with friends and parents, and much reflection.

I also spend a lot of time speculating (and, to be honest, worrying) about the future—the magnitude of illness and death, the future of my best friends’ small business, the disappointment of cancelled vacations with family and weddings of friends, the fear for healthcare professionals experiencing supply shortage and disaster, the financial concerns for my sister who works in the hospitality industry, the danger to those whose limited resources also limit their safety and security, the lasting impacts on our world, and the list goes on . . .

But, like many, I know nothing with any certainty. My anticipation about the future feels pointless. If anything, I am learning to live in the moment; to be present. To allow myself to feel grief and gratitude. To relinquish my strong desire to be in control and discover new daily motivations. To balance being vulnerable and joyful, and pragmatic and positive—and realizing some, any, all are okay.

With that, I am going to spend a few moments immersed in the puzzle on my coffee table.

What are you…

• learning
• unlearning
• relinquishing
• practicing
• starting
• pausing
• discovering
• missing
• remembering
• experiencing
• balancing
• feeling

…during this time?