March 30, 2021

 I live in a pocket of very tall buildings. There are a lot more buildings than there were the last time I lived here and at the time, I felt like there wasn't much in the way of restaurants and shops. And still a lot of empty lots that I knew would eventually become really tall buildings. It wasn't an issue though, because I had a Metropass and happily took public transportation here and there, even hopping on the streetcar for a stop or two, because, why not?

Now, most of those empty lots are filled, and as I said recently, it feels like a completely different space.

Maybe there actually is more stuff then there was before, but when walking around this morning, there seemed to be quite a lot. It requires a 10-15 minute walk past a bunch of tall buildings, but there is actually a lot more than I thought there was. In my head, that 10 minute walk is such a barrier, but I think I'm the barrier. It's not as bad as I think, and I just need to get over myself and get out there. It's easy for me to get comfortable in my abode and now go out. And somehow it seems even more onerous to have to ride an elevator to get out of my place as opposed to just opening the front door.

Even places to get groceries that I had thought were just a little too far for my liking are actually equidistant to the set up that I has been doing for the past 6 years. Sure, most of that time was taking the bus, but during the pandemic, I was walking and it wasn't that bad. It actually felt nice to go. I was also the spring and summer, so that probably helped, but the point is that I was doing it regularly and it wasn't "too out of the way" then, so it shouldn't be too out of the way now. 

I've said that I feel like I'm re-learning. But this time around (and it's been a theme that's taken over the past 5 years or so) it's like I'm trying to get over a fear. I'm not sure that fear is the right word, but it's on the side of hesitancy, or trepidation. I'm still not great at identifying emotions. But I can identify that it's a different feeling than how I used to feel. I used to feel like a curious and wondrous explorer. There have been many times over the past 6 years that I've said "I used to be". And I wonder, am I a different person? (I mean, yes, of course, I'm different. Time's passed, I have to have changed.) But, have I lost certain characteristics that I felt were core to my identity, and characteristics that I valued and appreciated? Or, if I've just been shaken up a little bit, will those characteristics come back? I don't think it's that I'm living in the past. I'm absolutely nostalgic (I've had a great life!) and think fondly about different stages of my life. It's not necessarily that I want to go back to a previous time (although, I want to sit with that thought for a bit more and unpack it), but that I want to hold on to some things. Yes, I miss having that jet set lifestyle I had when I first started this blog, but as much as I'd love to have a lot of that 'life' right now, I actually don't want to have that life now and forever. But I want the parts of me and some of those feelings/emotions that I had. I'm just using that as an example, but there really are personal attributes that I felt like were me and they seem a little less (I want to remain positive, so I will assume they're still there) prevalent. But there are times that I truly wonder. They don't feel accessible. And at time that I think they would resurface, or with certain efforts to try to get there...it just doesn't happen. People have told me I'm still me. They're still there. It'll just take some time. It'll come. I want to believe, but maybe people actually do change and I'm changed. Maybe this is my new reality and I just need to accept it? Anyway, we'll see what happens.

Also, how do people meet new people? Can/does it happen just out and about? Today, when I was walking, someone just stopped me and said 'hello'. They tried to strike up a conversation, albeit (in my interpretation), rather awkwardly. It concluded with a suggestion to grab a coffee. I declined. There were many thoughts going on through my mind. I thought about the fact that my plan was to get home so that I could get work done. It's a weekday, and I try to work on weekdays. But, technically, I didn't have a meeting until much later in the day and there was nothing urgent that I didn't to get to. So, was I being reasonable (with myself) in saying that work was stopping me from saying yes? I thought about the fact that it's a pandemic and that gathering with people for coffee might not be ideal. But technically, it was just one other person and we could have sat outside. So, was I being reasonable (with myself) in saying that the pandemic was stopping me from saying yes? I know (as a fact) that I've been so well trained to be skeptical (that's actually putting it mildly) of strangers, which is related to the fact that I'm a woman, and even more heightened by the fact that the stranger was a man. So, was I being reasonable (with myself) in saying that them being a stranger kept me from saying yes? Yet, meeting a new person and making a connection are both things that intrigue me. I'm going to think about it a little bit more.

Relatedly, saying "yes" is something I've thought about as well. Yes day, week of yes, month of yes, year of yes...is this reasonable and realistic? Can their be rules, guidelines, and/or boundaries to this? Or does that defeat the purpose? I suppose it's important to first identify the purpose. I'm going to think about this a little bit more as well.

March 23, 2021

 I just came back from a walk. I haven't been out a lot recently - it just hasn't been a priority. But I'm trying to make it one. As I continue to re-familiarize myself with my surroundings, I'm trying to take different paths (even if going to the same place). I tend to do that anyway (I think I get bored with the same scenery, or put with a positive spin, I'm interested in exploring), but I'm hoping that the more ground I cover, the more settled I'll feel.

I am looking around a lot as I walk. I think more than most people do. I wonder if people notice. Do they wonder why, instead of looking ahead, I'm looking all around. And not even just with my eyes, I know my whole head is moving. It could be that I look like a tourist, but I 'feel' like I've even more extreme. Like, tourists would stop, perhaps take pictures...whereas I'm still moving. Moving but constantly looking. And staring. I suppose I could stop, but I feel like I would be constantly stopping. In some ways I feel like a child. A child who is seeing things for the first time. And I suppose I am seeing a lot of things for the first time. They weren't there the last time I walked these streets. Or they look totally different with this pandemic light. But I feel that I'm not behaving in the socially/culturally accepted way. I am STARING. But I'm ok with that. I mean, I' am clearly thinking about it, but I'm gonna do me. And I'm ok with me.

I walked by a COVID-19 Vaccination Clinic today. It made me feel something (I'm still working on identifying my emotions, and more specifically, developing my vocabulary). I don't know what it looked like inside the building, but there were lines outside. Lines of elderly people. They could have been my grandparents (I wish I had grandparents). Or, actually, my parents (my dad got his first shot two weeks ago, and my mom was supposed to get her first this morning - I'll need to check how that went). Most, if not all of the folks were in pairs. Were they both getting their shots? Was one there for moral support? Was one a caregiver? Were they two people, but going through live together? Some seemed to provide physical support. Those taking slow and tentative steps. Those who needed a hand or an arm. The front-line staff went from person to person, confirming their appointment time...and asking if anyone needed a chair to sit on. Several folks in the line had chairs. Around the corner and down the stairs, was another line for accessible access. More folks with grey and white hair. More folks with stooped backs. More folks with masks. It made me feel a lot of feelings - thinking a lot about the past year. Thinking about the vaccinations that were going on in that building and all around the world. 

I read books, magazines, newspapers, blogs, etc. I watch TV, youtube, movies, etc. I listen to the radio, conversations, etc. But somehow when I see it, really just see it in front of me. That's when I feel the most feels.

A new chapter

 Coming up with a title for this post took more energy than expected. I decided to just write something and not put too much into it so that I could get to writing the post itself. At the end of the day, coming up with the "best" title probably isn't the most important thing. Coming up with a title that I can live with and getting to actually posting something is more important for me.

I had thought of starting to write/post/blog again in the fall. The fall had marked an "official" new chapter in my life and thought it might be a nice time to start back up again. But it didn't become a priority. Then I thought that January might be a good time to start again. A new year (if following the Gregorian calendar), so another way to mark a new beginning. But it still didn't become a priority. 

Then I kind of thought about March 13th as a date that I would try again. The date in 2020 that things in my world officially shut down due to the COIVD-19 pandemic. A year in and still going. So a date on which to reflect. 

And while the pandemic has been devastating in many ways, I am also grateful. For me, the pandemic resulted in a forced break and distance from some things that were having a very negative impact on me. Without the pandemic, I'm sure I would have managed (because that's just what would have happened), but I'm grateful for the intervention. It was a pause. A stop. An eject. Things had already boiled over, but I just kept going. And I already had some things in place for the fall that I was hoping would help, but getting some relief in March instead was much appreciated.

The initial isolation was fine, well, it was actually good. I rested. I started my recovery. Actually, I'm not sure if I was ready to recover yet, I think I was more at a place of just stopping the damage. The pandemic gave me (personally, and to others) the permission to prioritize myself. Well, it's true that perhaps before the pandemic, had I prioritized myself in my interactions with others, I may have been equally accepted, so it might have been more of a personal issue, but to some extent, I believe that personal dilemma was a result of social conditioning and external pressures. The shut down resulted in a change in my schedule. I also didn't have to face (literally) many of my triggers. And for the most part, I could choose when I wanted to engage. I want to pause here and say that I recognize my privilege and how fortunate I am/was to be in a situation where the pandemic led to these positive implications (including even having a job to begin with).

The pandemic also facilitated better social connections. Ironically, the pandemic led me to be more social. Reaching out to folks to see how they were doing led to setting up Zoom, Skype, Facetime, and Googlemeet chats. I have touched base more regularly with a friend who lives across the country and was a support even before this 6-year journey, but was literally there when I got the first official notification of the move. I have daily check-ins with a friend who has given me such understanding and reassurance during so many new experiences. I have monthly (virtual) get-togethers with a group whom I haven't regularly kept in touch with over the past 6 years. I have weekly get-togethers with a group whom I know will be there for me when I need them. And there are others. In reality, these connections could have been happening before the pandemic, but life just kind of goes the way it does, and again, I'm grateful that the pandemic stepped in to prompt them to occur. While part of me wonders how things would have unfolded if I had acted on these connections earlier, it doesn't matter because we're in the here and now, and I'm so grateful for where I am now. I hope that I continue to take the initiative to reach out and stay connected.

It's pretty clear that I wasn't in a great place for awhile. I'm better now, but I'm not really where I want to be. Pandemic aside, there are still a lot of unknowns about the future, and that's really unsettling for me. 

I've made some (what I feel are pretty significant) decisions that I hope will result in positive change. That being said, they are not decisions that I had wanted or expected to have to make in my life. And while I said earlier that no matter when, I will manage, I've never wanted to be the person who "manages", rather my personal expectation and assumption was to "thrive". What I envisioned "thriving" to look like, isn't really happening (or doesn't seem like a possibility). So we'll see how things will unfold.

It's kind of hard (for me) to revise what almost 40 years of an impression of what "thriving" looks like. But I'm moving forward. I have no choice. Something's happening. I'm trying to find my way. And I'm trying to find myself. From time to time, I notice differences. So those moments are reassuring. Other times can be tough. But generally speaking, I'm doing better. 

So here I am, in a different place (physically, emotionally, mentally...). We'll see what happens next. I'm taking things one day at a time, and learning to be kind to myself. It's/I'm a work in progress.