A Lot to Manage

A friend texted me last week: "How are you?"

I responded: "There's a lot to manage..."

It feels so good to de-mask, roll down the windows, turn the radio up, and drive anywhere I want to go; I feel like a high-schooler just released for summer after a grueling year(!) of final exams. I'm hugging, touching, kissing, and feeling full of possibility.

But man, my management skills have atrophied in the past year. I'm re-learning how to make plans, be in multiple places in one day, and maintain a social calendar. For the life of me, I can't seem to remember Phoebe has lacrosse practice on Wednesday and Friday evenings. I missed my dentist appointment...twice! Roo remembered to take Sugar to the vet and to schedule a haircut for Pip, but what will happen when he's no longer working from home? I look back at my pre-Covid self with wonder and awe: how did I get myself, children, and dogs to all our respective appointments on time, in order; how did I buy groceries before amazon prime; how did I have our summer planned in March; how did I know on Sunday what we were going to eat for dinner on Wednesday; how was the garden producing peas on Memorial Day; and who collected the eggs everyday, let alone cleaned them?

And it's not just my management skills, my social skills have suffered too. We have to remind each other that passing gas at the dinner table is not acceptable. Netflix, my living room couch, and Covid jeans (as I have affectionately dubbed them) remain incredibly alluring. And it recently occurred to me that for the past fifteen months, for the most part, we have not had to endure other people's opinions about our personal choices. In addition to re-adjusting to after-school commitments, we have to re-adjust to navigating other people's expectations.

As I toss my Covid jeans aside, fill up my gas tank with regular, and run through my appointment-filled day, it's not my weakened skills that overwhelm me, it's the very real possibility of missing this opportunity to build a new normal out here. Living through this pandemic, together, has left in its wake, a collective point of comparison to our pre-Covid lives. How are we going to learn and evolve from our new perspectives on what else is possible? We have spent a great deal of time contemplating and learning the hard way what is important. As we step back outside our homes, what will we carry forward, what do we want to pick back up, and what do we want to put down?

I hope to carry forward: my newfound appreciation for the seasons--my peace with fall and winter; early morning walks with Roo; Blue Light Collective; writing; peace with uncertainty; ownership of and gratitude for my time; health.

I hope to put down: time in front of screens; masks; expectations; judgement; following beaten paths just because they're beaten.

I hope to pick back up: hugging; cooking; alone time; travelling; ease.

Last night, Pip and Phoebe each had a sleepover. Upon Phoebe's return this morning, she came running (read: she was full on sprinting) upstairs to my office to hug me, long and hard: "I missed you," she said. The reminder of what it feels like to be apart made our embrace that much sweeter. This is how I want my reunion with life without restrictions to feel: sweet and full of gratitude and presence.

As always, thank you for reading,
Georgia

P.S. Two Things:
1. THERE IS CAKE AT 9AM TODAY!
2. Do you want to start a practice on your mat? Or do you someone who would like to? Introduction to CAKE and Introduction to Blue Light Yoga start this week. Each series will run for 3 weeks for one hour on Wed or Thurs mornings. If you can't make the live virtual classes, recordings will be available. These are the perfect entry points for you to start a practice on your mat.