Day 303, January 12, 2021

Little Things

Today's soundtrack: Stuff live at Montreal, 1976 (Think Paul Simon's One Trick Pony band. This is tasty Stuff.) ((some reason there are a lot of commercials in this video, but it is so good it is worth it))

Here we are, three hundred and three days into the pandemic. Hopefully, we've started to discover some things about self care and the long run. I've been talking with a lot of students recently, and because of the time of the year, most of these students have been struggling academically... but all their academic struggles are tied to their day to day struggles with anxiety, sleep, screen time, substances, finances, family care, all those things that are so hard to manage, balance, and sequester through the pandemic. 

I started to wonder what would happen if this were the way things were. If I always worked out of the house and always transitioned to dinner and then television... if that were all there ever was. What would need to change? I think we probably all have certain excesses that we are maintaining with the recognition that we are experiencing something profoundly unusual. Sometimes that is the pint of premium ice cream, sometimes it is that adult beverage, or maybe it is that extra piece of chocolate (on top of the other several extra pieces from earlier in the day). 

I wonder if lunch would be different if this were not a temporary situation. I started to catalog my pandemic lunches:

• Ramen (sometimes with kimchee, egg, etc; sometimes without)
• Annie's Shells and Cheese (sometimes with frozen peas)
• A can of baked beans
• A grapefruit
• A can of split pea soup
• A can of tomato soup
• A can of minestrone soup
• A can of lentil soup
• Bagel with cream cheese
• Crackers and cheese and sausage
• Peanut butter and honey on an English muffin

I think that's pretty much it. For 303 days. Surely some of you have discovered more imaginative ways to engage in a mid-day meal. I'd love to hear what you are doing... besides, I'm a little worried that my soup intake will throw my sodium balance out of whack. 

If this were not a pandemic, I imagine I would have some kind of meal that I make in the Instant Pot that I pick from all week long... or maybe I would make a giant salad... or maybe I would have a calzone making station. There was a period of time when I was in graduate school where calzones were a regular thing in Amherst.  I don't think I've had one since.

Besides food, the other things too. Since the new job, I've been intentional about maintaining Franklin's short noon walk. That, at least, gets me outside and breathing fresh air. I also realize, particularly when watching a band as funky as Stuff, that I didn't get to play any guitar or bass this weekend. That feels painful and sad as it is often hard for me to squeeze in guitar playing during the week. We have to cherish and privilege those things that give us joy. 

I suppose I am, even though I haven't had the chance to play guitar. I'm participating in a reading group, so the last couple of Saturdays and Sundays have been spent reading Angela Saini's Superior. That in itself is a wonderful thing to indulge in. I am also in the middle of reading Caroline Kim's The Prince of Mournful Thoughts and Other Stories, but had to pause that for the reading group. I wonder if I would have such capacity for time to languor in reading as I do now. Pre-pandemic my weekends were usually full with playing a gig, or going out to see one of our friends play, and I was always stretched to fit in chores, grocery shopping, practicing, and everything else one tries or needs to fit into a weekend. Sometimes, it was exhausting. Not that I'm complaining, because it was also joy filled and fun. 

Baring the total collapse of the US government, it seems we will be in this state for some time to come. Months, at least. So, I wonder if I reset and imagined myself 303 days ago and told myself, for the next 303 plus days you are going to work from home. How would I prepare? What would I do differently? 

As it is now, I am at a moment of indecision. I bought myself a bulletin board where I could tack important frequently needed information, but I'm uncertain which wall I want to affix the bulletin board. There is still a certain barrenness to the newly established office that still seems to feel the absence of my son's manga books more than the presence of university administrator. But I suppose it is a slow process. I now have a Christmas cactus to sit alongside my humidifier, and I did hang one calligraphy scroll... and over the piano, there's a Dick Wilkie photo. 

Like we all have, I've built up a routine that will continue to be refined. Because, what we're really talking about is trying to find time to include the things that make life more enjoyable, give each of us a little bit more meaning, a little bit more pleasure, a little bit more purpose. I'm not sure that was a conscious thing before, something we sought out with intentionality, the little things.

I hope when this is all over, that is something we can all retain, that inclusion of little things... those little things that accumulate into big things. 

Take care and be well,

Leo