ok i think now i got all the catastrophic stuff out of the way and i can go back to whatever i used to do here, which is...what? flailing back and forth between angst and joy and general ennui?

*
i find i do best when i focus on the small pleasures. Anything to stave off my underlying frantic feelings of helplessness about beloved people spinning ever further out of my (constrained) orbit; about floating, directionless and unmoored, through this world.

Fortunately there are many such small perfect things:
*my mother's milk frother and our shared deep, almost reverential, enjoyment of our daily lattes.
*my dad comes upstairs one day and says, "i caught a mouse, but it was an indian mouse: i used a paratha in the mousetrap.
*The miracle of watching a bunch of orange and yellow tulips in a glass vase on the kitchen island, opening and changing every day.
*Something has eased and i can once again remember my dreams. It is a gift to be able to tap into some weird fantastical world.
*my brother calls one evening, desperate to distract his inconsolable daughter, who only wants to hear her grampa sing, "the battle hymn of the republic". My mom is watching netflix and and my dad is brushing his teeth and they both drop everything to sing, "glory, glory hallelujah" several times to an 18 month old over facetime.
*my longs walk late at night, 8-12 km loops through the quiet neighbourhoods. Sometimes I call friends and we catch up, sometimes listening to music or CBC, sometimes just listening to the wind in the trees. I feel so safe out on the streets here, and it changes everything.

11:27 a.m. - 2021-03-17