Corona Pt. 8

Daily Life

Simple mornings.
Work out. Shower. Breakfast. Start the day
With a steaming cup of chicory.

Simple evenings
On the deck, looking up at the dimming sky between the trees.
Cheese and crackers. Pink wine. A home cooked dinner.

What comes between is more complex.
Working remotely as a fitness instructor.
“3, 2, 1, Go!”
Writing these poems.
“Keep it up!”
Taking care of home projects.
“You’ve got this!”

Trying not to give all my time away to
Social media posts and news reports that often leave me
Outraged, frightened, feeling impotent.

Trying to devote just enough of my time
To television shows and movies
So I’m entertained but not binging.

Every night I meditate in bed
(to keep up my streak on Insight Timer).
Breathe in. Breathe out.

If that’s not enough to drift off,
I cue up an audiobook.
Something engaging but low stakes–
Like this poem.

I read a post about starting a journal during the pandemic that suggested it’s useful to write now just to document what daily life is like. So my poem this week is my attempt at that.

It’s easy for me to get caught up in the negative aspects of the current situation. This week I wanted to talk about what I’m grateful for, like sitting in the backyard at the end of the day with David, and how much I value aspects of my routine like starting the day with a work out (most days, not every day).

In March, I listened to a news conference given by Anthony Cuomo and was comforted by this slide he shared that said, “Remember this is not a sprint, it’s a marathon. We must each do our part and we must adjust.” Over a month later and with no end in sight, I’m wondering if the first part might be revised to something like, remember this isn’t a marathon, it’s an ultra marathon.

I’ve never trained for an ultra, but from what I’ve heard, it’s about focusing on the journey. And that’s what we’re on right now–a journey–together, collectively, but mostly in our own homes. On this journey, my life has been trimmed down to the essentials–simple mornings, simple evenings, and whatever comes between.

This is what I look like when I’m making dinner: