I don't think anyone had any clue what was coming for us in March.
I've written a lot this month about COVID-19, long posts filled with thoughts on sorting through the facts and keeping a good perspective. But I've deleted all of them -- it was enough to get the thoughts out of my head and onto a Word doc without ever needing to hit Publish. There are more than enough articles out there about the virus and how it's changed life for everyone; I don't need my words to be yet another shout into the void about the global situation.
So I'll stick to my March.
It was busy - absurdly busy - yet simple.
I work for a national nonprofit that serves seniors, so my job has been nonstop every day. I'm working from home, which I love, and I have more than enough to do to stay busy. I'm trying to maintain boundaries so that work doesn't spill over into evenings and weekends, but I'm more aware than ever of how blessed I am to have job security in these uncertain times.
As an introvert with no significant other or children, leaving my home only for essential shopping and exercising has been easy for me. Routines keep me structured and I've maintained nearly all of my pre-COVID ones, so daily life begins and ends the same way as before, only now I don't go anywhere in between.
Though I love the constantly-at-home life, I miss seeing my friends in person. My community group still meets every Tuesday, but now via Google Hangouts. A couple friends and I played Yahtzee over Zoom last weekend, each using our own set of dice and announcing what we rolled. A group of girlfriends and I started Jen Wilkin's study on Hebrews, screen-sharing to watch the teaching videos rather than using a TV in someone's home. But, this has also been a good time to chat with friends and family virtually and to check in on people I don't see often, even if just to make sure they're okay.
This has also been a time of diving into the simple joys in life. The extra time at home, the longer daylight hours, and the arriving spring season lend themselves to pre-work runs and post-work walks around the neighborhoods and through the parks nearby (where all my photos from this month are from). I can linger over my morning coffee rather than pouring half of it into a to-go mug like I usually do. I can leave my windows open all day and listen to the birds. And not having to wear jeans or real pants every day? A gift.
There's plenty to mourn and much that is unknown and frightening. But when I look back at this time, I want to remember the good that came out of it, not the terror it plunged the world into.
Though I love the constantly-at-home life, I miss seeing my friends in person. My community group still meets every Tuesday, but now via Google Hangouts. A couple friends and I played Yahtzee over Zoom last weekend, each using our own set of dice and announcing what we rolled. A group of girlfriends and I started Jen Wilkin's study on Hebrews, screen-sharing to watch the teaching videos rather than using a TV in someone's home. But, this has also been a good time to chat with friends and family virtually and to check in on people I don't see often, even if just to make sure they're okay.
This has also been a time of diving into the simple joys in life. The extra time at home, the longer daylight hours, and the arriving spring season lend themselves to pre-work runs and post-work walks around the neighborhoods and through the parks nearby (where all my photos from this month are from). I can linger over my morning coffee rather than pouring half of it into a to-go mug like I usually do. I can leave my windows open all day and listen to the birds. And not having to wear jeans or real pants every day? A gift.
There's plenty to mourn and much that is unknown and frightening. But when I look back at this time, I want to remember the good that came out of it, not the terror it plunged the world into.
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