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My favorite singer/songwriter has a song called “Grief and Praise,” which is based on the title of a book by Martin Prechtel (and the deeper concepts therein). This post probably won’t delve that deep, but lately I’ve been listening to a lot of Glen (the aforementioned singer) due to the welcome distraction of his near-nightly Facebook Live shows. His songs are on my mind, and this one fits. I’m trying to find a balance between allowing myself the space to grieve what’s happening now and my unfortunate tendency to spiral too far into the negative. Balance is not my strong suit, ever. I’m working on it. To that end, I will end this post with a list of things I’ve gained from the recent turn of events. There have been a few.

I’ll start with some real talk: This shit is hard. Once more for those at the back: This. Shit. Is. Hard. Seriously, though. The numbness that lack of routine creates is very strange. Today is Saturday, but weekends aren’t really weekends right now, are they? My family is up late (kids included) every night. I have a horrible time falling asleep, and wake up feeling ill at ease and not rested. The hours go by, at once excruciatingly slow and yet somehow the day ends and I feel like I haven’t done that much (aside from laundry… so much laundry, but I digress). What am I doing with all of this time?

I’ve started to work from home, somewhat. I’m doing the best I can, as we all are, but I don’t know what the future holds, or how much of my job can be justified if–and likely when–this continues. Looking ahead I know in all likelihood school will not resume in person until fall. This both terrifies and depresses me, but I’m expecting it. Bottom line, if my daughter is home, then so I am. My son is old enough to watch her, certainly, but he will be dealing with online classes as well for the next couple of months, and more importantly, he’s not her parent. My 8-year-old isn’t going to be able to navigate Google Classroom by herself. So where does that leave my job? I have no idea. I know I’m far from alone in dealing with these challenges, and no one has come up with any real answers yet. I was speaking to a friend about this earlier and described it as “uncharted territory,” and she said she had been using that exact phrase on repeat for several days. No one knows how to do this. As much discussion as there had previously been about how telecommuting was the wave of the future, it’s safe to say no one expected the future to arrive all at once.

Until recently, my daughter’s schedule had me exhausted. I never had time to myself, and it frustrated me. Now, I have time… so much time. I should be using it to bang out the projects I always complained I lacked the time for, right? Yeah, no. So far, not so much. We deep cleaned the house the first couple of days, obviously. But there are organizational projects I’ve been meaning to take on for ages, and I keep just thinking about them. As much time as I have, the tasks themselves still feel insanely overwhelming. My theory is that it’s because nearly every bit of headspace is filled with pandemic-related thoughts; there’s no room left for projects. Or maybe that’s just my current excuse, but it feels real.

For example, my bedside table is actually a very large cabinet. My husband found it one day by the side of the road, and because he’s very wise, he texted me a picture. “YES!” I responded excitedly, and he dragged it into the back of the car and brought it home. In its former life, it was someone’s entertainment cabinet, but in spite of its size (about three feet wide and two and a half feet deep) it’s my bedside table. I have too much stuff both in it and on it, and it really needs resolving. But there’s a box of stuff in front of it as well, so I can’t fully open the glass doors without dragging the box out of the way. So I stand there and think about having to move that box just to get to the actual project, and it seems like too much. I’m exhausted before I ever start. And since life itself seems like too much right now… working from home, staying out of each other’s way (since my husband is working from home as well) and keeping my daughter entertained, dealing with the cabinet necessitates a level of energy I can’t seem to dredge up. Kudos to everyone out there who’s killing it under the same circumstances, but I can’t seem to get there.

Okay, enough of the dark stuff. Here are a few positives: 1. I am finding time to read regularly for the first time in quite awhile. It’s not exactly great literature, but it’s a welcome relief from what’s happening in my head. 2. Online concerts. Several artists I love have been playing on both Facebook Live and Instagram. So far these shows have been free (one artist has been taking donations for various deserving charities), and the joy of having these concerts in my living room right now is indescribable, really. It’s saving my sanity, and I am deeply appreciative. 4. We are currently financially okay. This is no small thing, and I have little doubt I would be wreck otherwise. NOT having to confront income insecurity right now is my number one cause for gratitude. 5. My family is both healthy and together. For once, our schedules are in perfect alignment. We all eat lunch and dinner together (breakfast varies), and there is tons of Daddy Time, which is a precious commodity, and normally fairly hard to come by. It’s special. I don’t like the reason we’ve been “gifted” all of this time, but the time itself, that’s a gift. My son is a junior in high school, and time had been going much too fast lately. He’s been doing SAT prep and college felt like it was looming. Suddenly, POOF! We have time together, and for once it’s not slipping by at hyper speed. I’m pretty sure that someday I will be even more grateful than I am right now to have had this period, strange as it is. Most parents see less and less of their teenager before s/he leaves for college, but for now, he is literally stuck with us. I don’t hate that at all.

So there you go, a bit of balance. Some praise for a situation that can feel mired in grief. Finding that balance takes practice. But you know what? I have time.