Since early in the year, I’ve had this idea of sun and light. It fills up every corner of my brain, illuminating cobwebs and dust particles floating through neglected spaces. I write about it, doodle sloppy sunshines, and am constantly following the light across the sky throughout the day. My middle name is Rae, and while it isn’t spelled like an actual sunray...to me it means the same; I insist on chasing the light I was named for.
I had no idea that as the weeks unfolded and I got closer and closer to announcing this space, the world would look the way it does now. So...uncertain. Everchanging. Craving even the faintest hints of light (quite literally--as I write this it is dumping snow at the end of March).
My knee jerk reaction to this Epidemic was the same as yours: thinking of all the things I couldn’t do. See my friends. Warm my winter bones on desert rocks. Send my kids to school. I was asked to speak at an event this spring that will no longer be taking place. I started a podcast with a friend at work that has been interrupted for the time being, just as we were finally figuring out our process. I was looking forward to attending a writing conference that has had to be postponed. I am feeling slightly derailed...you too?
Life was good. Until it all stopped.
Except that life didn’t stop. It just looks different. I want to say it looks different for the time being...but I think it will always look different--the way we see it. Live it. Appreciate it.
I hope so.
This new space will be home to many things. Stories. Rambles. Nonsense, (I assure you). After years of school, a fancy degree, and working as a nurse I have realized I have somehow been handed the gift of perspective. I can see the good hiding in almost any situation. I chase down the charm in the mundane. I am lucky enough to realize that the littlest things, are almost always the biggest and bestest things.
These are the thoughts that I can’t help but share.
I heard about the idea that the life we are currently living, right now--at home in self-isolation--is STILL the life our great grandparents dreamed about. Running water. Indoor plumbing. Constant entertainment streaming over our giant tvs with fresh baked cookies smeared across our faces. The ability to hear the voices of family hundreds of miles away through a tiny handheld device. The excess of comfort.
We are living the LIFE. But it can be hard to see when we are looking backwards in comparison. Instead we need to be looking at the NOW. The life we are currently living. Not mourning what was, not worrying about what may be.
Living NOW. Finding pieces of light in the everyday. A daily rae.
I hope you’ll join me here in this space to listen, learn, and laugh with me, but most importantly I hope you’ll open your eyes and SEE with me.
This is the good life my friends, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
Comments