May came and went without feeling like anything. It lasted for an eternity but was hardly existent.
I think a lot about time right now. Without anything to anchor it, there is no beginning or end. It just flows by at a steady pace without anything marking a moment, a minute, an hour, a day, a week, or a month.
On one hand, I find this liberating. I’m not racing the clock, and instead can sink into my intuition to create and experience and be. But, on the other hand, how can anything get done when there’s no motivation to move forward?
When I think about time right now, I picture that famous Salvador Dali painting, The Persistence of Memory. When we look back on this time, will we remember it as a few brief but bizarre months that interrupted our daily lives? Or will it be a turning point in the way we live and think and react? Will we put our finger on this period in time and say — for better or worse — this is when everything changed?
We weekend like champs.
Without activity to designate the end of the week and the beginning of the weekend, we’ve leaned completely in to embracing weekends. And, for the most part, I think we’ve got it down.
On Friday, we shut down our work spaces and sink into just relaxing. We spend our weekends watching plays and ballets (a nice side effect of the global lockdown), reading, cooking, going for walks, and having thoughtful conversations. It’s easy to feel guilty about “not doing anything” after five days of focused working but feeling we’re not doing much more than that.
But, even as the world burns around us in so many ways, I know we need to take care of ourselves. And we’re doing that.
I’m as Zoomed out as anyone else these days, but I’m endlessly thankful for the opportunity to have virtual conversations with family and friends. Maybe it’s the fact that we’re all still so locked down, but it seems people are being driven to renew their relationships on a whole level.
I’ve enjoyed the virtual coffee and wine hours I’ve had during lockdown. I hope human contact and real conversations remain an important part of people’s lives as we move on from this pandemic pause.
Yes, my work.
I feel very fortunate to be doing something I love and that I think is important. I’ve lost work and contracts, and financially things don’t look super fab for me this year. But we’re in a place where that’s okay, and I accept that is the way things are right now. So, I continue to dive in completely, doing what I can with what I have — my passion, my time, my interest.
April was busy, and that’s because some of the partnerships and projects I’ve been working on are lifting off. I have a feeling this big, beautiful brand of Rooted is only getting started.
It’s exhausting being human.
We wake up in the morning and the world is burning. We go to bed at night and the world is burning.
I know I don’t speak for myself when I say it’s hard to be on, attentive, active, and compassionate all the time. I constantly ask Cory why people can’t just do the right thing, the humane thing. He always answers that it’s hard to be good. But I still don’t understand why people won’t put in the effort to do the right thing.
Why they won’t wear their masks.
Why white people kill black people without reason.
Why they are okay with racist, misogynist, hateful leaders.
Why they won’t lean into actual good over dangerous bad.
Some days — heck, this very morning — I just cry for no known reason. Some days I’m just beat.
Here’s to hoping May is a more tolerable time to be human.