Give me a freaking pick me up, ffs 🤩
Listen to some music wellness honey for your heart 😽
“I promise you, it will all make sense again.”
oh hello. it’s a wednesday. it’s still winter. it’s still a pandemic. * long sigh *
I’ve been seeing a lot of posts floating around the gram lately about how “it’s not just you - this is getting really hard,” how social interactions are waning and the pandemic fatigue grows thicker & more challenging every passing day. I’m noticing this especially within my community of artists and entertainment professionals who usually make their living onstage or behind the scenes. We don’t get to work from home and we won’t be able to go back to even a small glimpse of life as we knew it for who knows how long. All that is leading into a different blog post entirely…. So! Circling back. I woke up this morning feeling introspective and inspired to word vomit it all out into the cyber belt box. How do we renew our hope? refuel our joy? refill our cup? Do we repeat the same prayers, practice the same yoga flows, and turn on the same mindfulness apps that we’ve been replaying for a year now?
I don’t know bout you, but when friends just start spouting off random silver linings or immediately asking you to focus on the bright side, it can feel very (unintentionally) dismissive. Toxic positivity at its finest. And it’s no one’s fault. We’re all trying to carry the weight of our own exhaustion and anxiety and unknown, so our strength to help pull our friends through is waning. It’s certainly not a reflection of how much we care for each other. I genuinely believe we wish we could be there for each other day in and day out. We’re just really tired. Really, really tired.
A post that resonated deeply with me recently was one about choosing to romanticize our life, re-writing the mundane into lovely rituals, re-framing the big hardships into stimulating challenges. I did this a LOT as a kid & teenager. When I got my license at 16 and would be stuck in traffic I would make believe these beautiful, dramatic stories in my mind about where I was trying to get to & who was chasing me (so dramatic! haha). When I was nervous at an audition or at a new school (or at just about anything 🤓), I would pretend that I was confident, that I was already successful - that I was freakin awesome. I guess you could say “fake it til you make it” has gotten me through many a hard time. I’ve lost this practice over the years, but I’m going to try to pick it up again. I’m also trying to identify other pick-me-ups that I’ve lost sight of in recent months, such as intentionally listening to music that fills me with peace (note the playlist at the top of this post 😉), walking to a new coffee shop & taking a new route home while I gaze around at this glorious city, and writing for my own wellbeing instead of just writing for school. Here’s a little free write I did this morning:
the sunbeams streaming through the windows and the morning light bouncing off the strong brick walls outside. thick, sturdy architecture built on a strong, mighty foundation to house us braze, crazy humans.
small & lonely. tough & tiny.
the radiator that usually transforms this 6th floor apartment in an old Harlem building into a proper sauna has finally met its match in the harsh February air. My legs are wrapped in a blanket that isn’t mine and bright watermelon socks hug my frigid feet. a couple nights ago my lips decided to don a flaky, chapped exterior as if I’d been on a treacherous Himalayan expedition rather than still simply confined to the four walls of my humble (but lovely) sublet.
And how does one romanticize this? Where can I find adventure in this endless isolation?
I suppose I’ll fancy myself an artist, crunching pennies, hungry for love, itching to be reckless, but most importantly, surviving a pandemic and creating in the midst of it. Maybe this, my Bohemian existence, isn’t a passionate, tragic love story like Moulin Rouge. And this global crisis doesn’t transform me into a vigilante hero since staying home is an act of compassion in and of itself. But the sun still glistens and the brick is still powerful and the foundation is still strong. Sometimes my heartbeat is a glorious marching drum and sometimes my mind is a cacophony of bees & moths & butterflies.
There is music in all of it, no matter how faint. There is music in all of it. So I breathe. Simply breathe.
ta da! it isn’t brilliant or groundbreaking. but I for sure felt better after pouring it out pen to paper. I’ve got my music wellness playlist as the soundtrack to the scene, and i’m ready to take on the day.
that’s it for now. love you all.
don’t forget to smile.
;)