This is a sad Easter for me because I am not celebrating, I'm not cooking for a crowd, I'm not pretending.
I realized yesterday that I've been sitting in a car for 6 months straight, mostly in grocery store parking lots, since it got cold and I quit crossing state borders just to be able to shop maskless.
In this time I've had some some interesting conversations with people, strangers, who are falling apart and I have listened because that is who I was and what I used to do. They relate to me on some level as they have always done and I cannot refuse anyone in pain for meaningless reasons. But being shunned, banned and reviled for any reason changes a person from the core. I need some "me" time to digest all of this. I seek renewal.
Outside nature is coming to life. Inside it's a struggle.
On this day I could really use an Easter miracle. Because I'm done. I'm sick of this pandemic. There is nowhere to run to. No escape. I don't know what has even happened to so many people who were a part of my daily life, my daily world. I don't even know why I've chosen Easter as the holiday on which to fall apart myself, but I have. Resurrection seems alien now. To die as something or someone and return as something else.
I see solutions clearly. But no one listens to me except other outcasts, other people on the fringe. Will that be enough to change anything? This is something to be learned.
I realized yesterday that I've been sitting in a car for 6 months straight, mostly in grocery store parking lots, since it got cold and I quit crossing state borders just to be able to shop maskless.
In this time I've had some some interesting conversations with people, strangers, who are falling apart and I have listened because that is who I was and what I used to do. They relate to me on some level as they have always done and I cannot refuse anyone in pain for meaningless reasons. But being shunned, banned and reviled for any reason changes a person from the core. I need some "me" time to digest all of this. I seek renewal.
Outside nature is coming to life. Inside it's a struggle.
On this day I could really use an Easter miracle. Because I'm done. I'm sick of this pandemic. There is nowhere to run to. No escape. I don't know what has even happened to so many people who were a part of my daily life, my daily world. I don't even know why I've chosen Easter as the holiday on which to fall apart myself, but I have. Resurrection seems alien now. To die as something or someone and return as something else.
I see solutions clearly. But no one listens to me except other outcasts, other people on the fringe. Will that be enough to change anything? This is something to be learned.
