All we have is time
This morning I unofficially woke up at 5:15am. You know, the unofficial wake up when you can technically tell your spouse, "I woke up at 5... but then I went back to bed," when really you just got up to pee? So okay, I got up to pee, and the first thought that popped into my head was, "I'm okay, my lungs feel okay." The next thought as I rounded the bed, paying close attention to Chase's breathing patterns while still keeping my heavy lids halfway closed was, "He's okay too. We're okay."
Life is different right now. We both worked in close contact with people who had been traveling. Until about a week ago, no one was really taking this seriously, so the potential for exposure is massive, still yet to be fully realized. The fact that you can be asymptomatic, is truly terrifying. We are in a bit of a waiting game and it is only day 4 of isolation.
But while we are sitting here waiting, I'm learning to realign with life as it is now, and I'm finding some lovely moments. Yesterday, our bunny Brisby came out of her house in the quiet of the morning and did binkies around the living room as I sipped my coffee. She hasn't come out on her own in at least a year, and with the passing of Gideon rabbit, it was truly such a blessing to see signs of levity and confidence return.
Later, when I took Scout out, she decided for us that we would spend some time in the garden behind our apartment building by sprawling out in a sunny spot on the concrete, instead of finding a place to poop. We sat out there for an hour and I read my book out loud like I was the narrator of a "book on tape" which is what my mom called them when I was a kid. I supposed everything is digital now. An audiobook. Blegh. Doesn't sound as good.
A moth flew by, landing on the hose and a leaf near me, and while I'm usually terrified of bugs, especially of the flying sort, this one had the face of Charlotte in the 1973 film, Charlotte's web, and I was enchanted. I started taking photos and slow motion videos attempting to catch it in flight, when a thought interrupted me - "you should really be reading. Get back to your book. Stop wasting time," and I promptly said back to it, "all I have is time." A sense of peace and slowness crept into my body and flowed through my veins. I don't have anywhere to be, and there's nothing I'm missing out on. Everyone is taking a break. This must be what it feels like to live in the moment. Not one of those forced attempts of "being present," but truly living each moment to moment because as far as we know it, this one is indefinite. We will get back to life. It will pick up again and we will gain speed, but for now, as my dear friend Arnie from What's Eating Gilbert Grape, put it, "We're not going anywhere."
Wash your hands friends.