The Joy and Trepidation of Seeing Smiles, Week Three in the Time of Transition

I woke up early and ran to the East River promenade to get a glimpse of the sunrise.  I almost forgot my mask, but quickly put it in my pocket testing the waters of walking down the block without one.  No one was wearing masks but the few of us out were all at least 20 feet apart.  That felt comfortable enough for me.  

As we all know, the CDC, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, updated their mask mandate.  For a couple of days now more and more people are on the streets and in the parks maskless.  I love being able to see the many faces of the city.  Yet, I also feel mask shy.  I would have preferred a step-by-step shift during this transitional period.  Instead I’m hearing people mention mask burning parties.  I hear plans to make up for lost time.  There is warmth and excitement in the air, as well as a good measure of apprehension.  

I may be progressive in my political thinking, but I’m conservative in my Covid-19 opinions. I want more people to get vaccinated, making it safer for all of us.  I liked the illusion of security I felt when everyone was wearing a mask.  Well, mostly everyone.  

My ambivalence is present when I remove my mask to enjoy the aromatic lilacs in the park.  I then test the boundaries by walking with my mask on my wrist should I need to quickly don the face covering when others pass by.  After exiting a store, I forget to take it off since a more recent habit has me wearing it inside and out.  

To quell the mixed feelings I focus on the flowers in front of apartment buildings, in window boxes, and the beautiful plantings in the gardens and parks.  Whatever I may be experiencing, ambivalence and all, Spring colors, longer days, and warmer air all seem to make it easier to get through this time in transition.  

Self-Care Tips:  

  • Stop and smell the flowers.  
  • Take a walk.  Whether you go around the block or enjoy an afternoon stroll, there’s nothing like a walk on a Spring day to feel refreshed.  
  • Enjoy in-season fruit and vegetables from a farmer’s market or farm stand.  

Good Will, Week 59 in the Time of Coronavirus


This past week I posted a birthday wish for my 22-year-old child on FaceBook.  So many share the downside of social media.  And, yes, there are downsides, nonetheless, my most recent experience has been one of kindness and care.  In the past I’ve been reunited with friends near and far with whom I had lost touch.  Some have since passed away.  And, social media, namely FaceBook, gave us a chance to reconnect, reminding us of the moments that have shaped us.  

This past week I came out as a parent of a trans child. He has been out for years throughout the transition process. I stayed silent for the most part.  I had much to learn from Alex and the community, and I didn’t feel ready to speak while I educated myself and grow as a parent, therapist and human.   I have friends on FaceBook who share different religious beliefs.  I have friends who live very different lifestyles than that of our urban world.  Yet, the outpouring of love, support, care, and good will was extraordinary.  I felt meaningful connections rather than disparity.  

There are many times social media can seem like a window into a polished world.  One in which I can find myself feeling a good deal of envy for milestones or experiences I haven’t achieved or may never know.  It’s imperative that we live our own lives without measuring our successes based on others.  Yet, I find that challenging, and often fall short.  The responses to my most recent post remind me of the generous hearts far and wide.  

Sadly, I can get caught up in the behavior of annoying strangers or hateful acts in the news.  It’s easy to feel despairing of humankind.  However, when I take in the love shared, I am filled with the healing power of kindness.  My friends and family have reminded me that thoughtfulness is natural for most of us, and it always behooves me to live in that truth.  I will endeavor to focus on the good will I see.  And when I stray, much as my thoughts can stray in meditation, I will bring myself back to the reality of pervasive good will.  

Self-Care Tips

What a Year, Week 53 in the Time of Coronavirus

I am befuddled.  The last thing I need is an hour of lost sleep.  And, yet, one less hour of living in a pandemic sounds pretty good.  The common rationale for the perpetuation of daylight savings time is extended daylight.  Sunlight has been invaluable to us these past twelve months.  Sunrises, sunsets, and the shades of illumination while outdoors have provided medicinal assets in this time of Coronavirus.  So, we will sacrifice an hour’s sleep for lighter days.   

Daylight savings time comes as we noted an anniversary that we could never have imagined.  We didn’t want to mark the passing of this previous pandemic year.  I’ve been hearing about the discomfort that can’t be explained as our bodies feel the weight of this past year deep in our cells.  Many of us have felt ‘off.’  I forgot to answer important emails.  I was a bit achy, walking slower than usual.  But the walks helped, as they always do.

Aside from the events and socialization we missed this past year, we are equally missing acquaintances and arbitrary human contact.  Even on my walks, while I pass people, mask wearing has obscured some fundamental assessment of others.  Not only do I not recognize most people, even the regular park dwellers, but, for me, the masks obscure my mind’s ability to gauge the whole picture.  Although I cherish some parts of this new found anonymity, I don’t like the absence of fully assessing the moods and character of those around me.  

The simple day to day acknowledgment from one human to another has been significantly curtailed.  There have been limited or no interactions that are merely casual.  We miss those who we saw at the stores we frequented.  We miss the service people who we might have seen infrequently, but who we came to expect when the circumstance arose.  We miss speaking to strangers.  Well, perhaps we miss the option to speak with certain strangers.  And most of us miss the everyday familiarity we came to expect on our commutes, our routines, and our outings.  

Perhaps now that the days are longer and the sun brighter, I will attempt to look above the masks into strangers’ eyes, enjoying the sun sparkling off them.  Pre-pandemic looking into the eyes of strangers was deemed rude.  Now it is how we smile to one another.  I may not take in the big picture, so I will rely on a small snapshot of the light, the eyes, a passing connection, with Spring in the air. 

Self-care Tips:

  • Play.  We forget to play thinking that’s child’s business.  Yet, celebrating our child within can be pure joy.  
  • Quit.  If there is something you think you should be doing, but you really don’t want to, and it’s a specific requirement you put on yourself, just leave it.  I’ve been quitting books I don’t like.  
  • Move.  Sitting at our desk or having a static position can cause stiffening.  Move a bit, whether you go for a run, simply sway your arms or do the twist, it all helps to loosen us up.
  • Hug.  If you live alone, stretch your arms around your torso and give yourself a hug.  If you live with others, and both you and they are amenable, exchange a nice hug. 

Talk.  Go to therapy.  Talk to a friend.  Contact a family member.  Tell your truth to o

Cautiously Optimistic, Week 43 in the Time of Coronavirus

Is this really a Happy New Year?  Yes, we survived 2020.  And, yet, recalling how happy we were to be in a new decade just a year ago, we are constantly reminded of the unexpected turn of events in March.  

In this first weekend of the new year, we take stock of the meaning of “hindsight is 2020.” Relieved that 2020 is behind us, our memories are raw from all we witnessed, and all we faced personally.  I now know the impact of ongoing stress on my body and mind.  I am just beginning to understand what is required to sooth myself and support others going through the intensity of extreme tension.  Sometimes it means reaching out and caring for someone, taking the attention off myself.  Other times it means paying close attention to what I need, whether it be a nap, meditation, or another episode of Law & Order.  

I am appreciative of the laughter brought to me by New Yorker cartoons, silly memes, posts on social media, and absurd memories with my sister, Sharyn.  I have grown to love the color of the sky as I walk through the city streets and parks.  I am grateful to my grandfather, Sam, who watched nature shows like The Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom.  Though I was bored as a child who preferred to see The Jetsons in those early years, now that I’m his age from that time, I appreciate the pleasure of seeing animals in their natural habitats on the small screen.  

I have chosen not to make any resolutions.  I am not resolving to be better in any way.  Yes, I will work on bettering myself, but that remains a daily practice, one with many pitfalls, and flawed attempts.  And, this year, much like last year, I will pick myself up again, and again, dust myself off, and slowly move ahead.  If I remember I will look up at the sky in child-like wonderment.  A moment of awe whatever year it might be.  

Go gently into 2021, step by small step.  

Self-care Tips:

  • Alternate self-care behavior.  This way you find what works best, and what you need in different situations.
  • If and when you feel aches or pains, touch the area with care.  This is not a substitute for medical care, please attend to that.  This is a small gesture that affirms the healing power of touch.
  • Rather than thinking of all you will do in 2021, think of what you will no longer do.  Find the joy of saying no thank you to one or two “shoulds.”
  • Lower your expectations.  We’ve lived with a lot of disappointments this past year.  Lowering our expectations allows us to take in and act on what comes our way.  
  • Try something new, or try anything you’re not good at, like a new recipe, trying your hand at poetry, or learning a new language.  It helps us to develop humility.  

Snow, Week 41 in the Time of Coronavirus

Initially there were grave warnings about the snowstorm that was going to plague the Northeast.  When it started to fall, the winds were strong, and walking home from work was a bit of an effort.  The following day there were hills with footsteps at the curbsides.  Crossing the street took balance and navigation.  Patience was needed, as only one person at a time could reach the next corner.  Each person had their own pace, based on age, winter fitness, and footwear.  Good snow boots were the best.  So happy that past winters required me to find the right boots. 

            By Friday I was ready for a walk in the park.  The park closest to me, Carl Shurz, had sledding children with their parents.  It was hard to tell who was having more fun.  The walkways were icy, so my time in the park was limited to dog walks.  Central Park was more of a mix.  The Park Drive was clear for walking and running.  The side paths were too slippery to walk safely.  So, I stuck to the Park Drive.  From the Upper Eastside I could see snowmen and women being constructed.  There was a couple cross-country skiing displaying easy smiles.  A snow ball exchange spontaneously occurred.  A great way to play while socially distanced.  

            Rather than the storm being a threat to the city, it provided a needed change to the atmosphere.  Families had a reason to come out and play in the cold.  Individuals were able to enjoy the scenery, as well as the dogs and people romping about.  It lifted our moods.  If anyone fell, strangers came to their rescue.  Passing connections were found in these acts of kindness.  

            The sun’s reflection on the snow adds a brightness to our days.  The light has melted some of the pain on these past months.  The snow has been a gift in this time of Coronavirus.

Self-care Tips:

Simple Pleasures, Week 40 in the Time of Coronavirus

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.  

Self-care Tips

  • 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.