The good kind of break

Hiatus (n)an interruption in time or continuity, especially a period when something (such as a program or activity) is suspended or interrupted

Twas not the plan, but the path isn’t always clear until it is, you know? After The Year of Collective COVID Trauma, plus a wrist injury not long after my last post that forced me off the computer except for work, I’ve gotten more used to relaxing into down time again. With wrists that still need rest from too much typing and lifting heavy objects (hence the injury) and eyes that need to look at something more than screens for a majority of each day, this summer will find me away from most tech. First it was a prescription in order to heal my injuries. Then it became a way to and through emotional and psychological healing.

And I want more.

Books. Writing creative nonfiction pieces by hand with a pen. Visiting the ocean. Walking in nature. Taking pictures. Making art. Resting mind, body (especially wrists and sitting-too-long aching bits), and spirit. Doing absolutely nothing. Being unavailable. Turning off devices. Tuning into myself. Refilling the well to the point of overflow.

Until Autumn… Stay safe. Be kind. Be well.

Peace.

In the pink

When life gets busy in the middle of a pandemic and everything starts to look alike, life, and kind souls, offer the opportunity to stop and take a minute to see the beauty right in front of you.

A bright new friend, delivered yesterday — an unexpected gift, a cheerful hello. “Happy still-stuck-in-a-pandemic birthday. Hope this brings some joy today.” It did, but even more because of the kindness behind it.

Gifts are all around, even during a once-in-my-lifetime (I hope) pandemic.

March Again

A look back at my March 2021 calendar finds I did things I like to do during the past four weeks — writing events, walking, an art class, food shopping, and cooking. Notably different: all except walking and cooking took place online or through online ordering. That’s something we’ve all gotten used to in the past year, after a March that can’t compare to any other.

Continue reading “March Again”