Last
Saturday night I made the mistake of reading the New York Times brief from the
prior Friday, April 10th. I am someone who gets easily overwhelmed
by a lot of news and reading just the highlights Monday through Friday provides
the sweet spot for me. I can keep abreast of the major headlines while not
being awash in negativity. I thought I would just catch up on the latest before
going to bed. The sobering effects of COVID-19 and the concentric circles of how
social isolation is affecting all parts of our lives and society really hit me.
As I tossed turned all night, my worry spread into other concerns about work
and worse-case scenario outcomes.
My ex and I
had agreed to have coffee and brunch at her house on Sunday morning in honor of
Easter. We are each doing our best to socially isolate and have as little
contact with other people as possible. I schlepped over in my PJ’s. I was tired
and I can park and make it into her kitchen without anyone seeing me. It was unusually
quiet due to COVID-19. No neighbors were getting dolled up to head to church or
to gather with family in their PJ’s. As we sat in her living room six feet away
from each other and talked through my freak out, she noticed a bunny hopping
down the drive way of the house across the street. We both got up and watched,
transfixed as this darling cottontail munched on the clover, not moving as
birds also hopped around or the occasional squirrel darted past to scurry up a
tree. We probably sat on the floor looking through her French doors for at
least 15 minutes. It knocked some, not all, of my anxiety away, watching this
peaceful scene of all of these creatures coexisting and being provided for by
nature. A bunny sighting never fails to make me happy.
As my ex and
I made breakfast and ate, I opted for herbal tea rather than more coffee. My ex
smiled as she handed me the cup and said, “Read what your tea bag says.” I was
confused at first, thinking she meant for me to read my tea leaves. Since the
leaves were in the Yogi tea bag and I have never been taught this skill, I gave
her a puzzled look. She explained that she meant for me to read the tea tab at
the end of the string. It said, “When you become a part of the universe, the
universe becomes a part of you.” It was a second affirmation of reassurance
that at a very basic level, I am spiritually connected and not alone.
I appreciate
the human, the fluffy and the flavorful reminders to keep coming back to the
present moment.
NN
