I was listening to early Joni Mitchell this early morning as the sun rose. Lucy and I were out for the first walk of the day. The weather is warm for December, and lovely in the tranquil dark. It was quiet with the occasional runner or dog passing us as they started their day.
It’s easy for me to recognize how special these moments are. As we make our way through this pandemic I find that these ten months have worn on me. At this point I really don’t want to do anything. Which is all the more reason I am appreciative of every small pleasure I encounter. This morning it was being next to Lucy as she sniffed and I watched the day begin. Now it’s sitting down to write this as I enjoy a rare moment alone. Yesterday it was sitting with Alex. We didn’t speak, we just enjoyed the company of one another. Earlier yesterday I was with Larry as sunset approached.
Although I am inclined to do less rather than more these days, I can go from thoroughly exhausted to deeply moved. My work day is filled with inspiring courage from those in my practice. Coming home from work I find an unexpected gift from a dear friend. Or I open up a holiday card happy to think of the care that it took in sending it. There are so many moments of grace. As I reflect on these last months I easily access the passionate emotions I’ve been navigating. My anger is fierce. My sadness pronounced. My foggy brain a constant. And, my appreciation of all the small pleasures, day in and day out, is pervasive. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. You have given me the perfect gift in this time of the coronavirus.
Soup. It can be so soothing. I recommend Ina Garten’s lentil soup recipe. Or, if you don’t like to cook, try a chicken broth with a touch of lemon juice.
Try a new chap stick. I found one in from Cococare that’s lovely. It helps our lips in the winter and it will feel soft under your mask.
Thank someone today. It can be for something small like moving out of the way on the sidewalk. Or it can be a bigger thank you.
Listen to the music that started you loving the singer, musician, piece, or group. It’s so nice to revisit the awakening you had when you first heard it.
If you spend time with others, find a quiet moment to savor. If you live alone, see if you can connect with someone who makes you smile.
There’s no doubt that this is a Thanksgiving like no other. Many will spend Thanksgiving, if it is being spent at all, without loved ones. In a large number of cases, it will be the first holiday without someone because they died, either of Covid-19 or from other causes. It’s hard to feel thankful for these facts. We can embody gratitude for what we’ve had in the past. Or we may feel grateful for not having to be social when we’re not up to seeing anyone. However, that’s a far cry from the delight of festivities of past years.
Gratitude and its cousin, appreciation, can feel like a burden in times of fear, sadness and loss. I am all for gratitude journals, and gratitude as a tenet of living a deeply satisfying life. But we must come to this on our own terms. When Thanksgiving comes around, I find there’s a collective social desire to manufacture gratitude on top of hardship. A kind of “fake it ‘til you make it” premise. I propose that we are tender with the losses and disappointments of 2020. In telling the truth of what we have and what we don’t have any more, or what we never had, we can find compassion for ourselves in these times. And if we can be grateful for anything it is for our capacity to heal.
Enjoy laughs. David Sedaris’s new book The Best of Me is just what we need in these times. Hearing him read it in the Audible version adds to the pleasure.
Consider the Buddhist tenet “we are not our thoughts.” When you are having thoughts that you don’t like, or are uncomfortable, do a mental separation. Touch your hand and say, “The is me. That was a thought.” You may have to repeat it a few times.
Listen to jazz standards or other soothing music. I can recommend Natalie Douglas, Diana Krall, or Nancy Lamott.
Hydrate. We tend to forget to drink water in the colder weather.
Purposefully take a day off. If you can’t do that, take short breaks, even if it means going to the bathroom alone and taking a couple of breaths before resuming your responsibilities.