In many ways, I regret the surge of frantic energy around work, as if we have to make up for the past 15 months right now. RIGHT NOW! There is no making up for it. It was both a lost and a blessed period of time. I want to hold on to the gentle, quiet pace. My safe little bubble, where I joyfully lived for these past many months, is being forced open. I'm watching my hopes and dreams, routines and patterns dissipate out the open doors and windows, and try as I might, I'm afraid I'll never catch them and bring them back close to me again.
I woke up early this morning, but it was already a little bit light out. This is one of my very favorite things about springtime—the coming of longer days. So I laid in bed for a minute and thought about all the little and big things I have come to be grateful for in this uncertain time: A much slower pace. In the morning, for example, Dr Marry and I have time to enjoy a cup of tea because we’re not running out the door to spin class. Multiple daily walks with Dr Marry and our pup Lilly through the neighborhood. Bread baking. Time to think about making lunch and…