UPDATED 2021: Life is Still Small. Now, I’m digging it.
(updated April 2021)
I have procrastinated about writing my 2021 commitments. As some of you may know, I attempt a witty, revealing few paragraphs each new year making public my good intentions and goals for the coming annus. But, this year, the annus feels more like an anus.
April Update: Life is still small. I’m kinda digging it. I’m still procrastinating; my Christmas 2020 mini tree is still on the driveway, shedding anemic looking needles everywhere, my dry wit appears to be MIA like a fish without gills — my cleverness is/was a self-defining mainstay, however, I can still laugh when my dog rings his dinner bell — this can last up to 5 minutes. I feel I am more present.
In 2019, I droned on about ‘values’ and eye contact and books with f*ck in the title. This year, I just want a meal in a restaurant and an hour to poke around the racks at my favourite dress shop. I want to wear heels and host a party — in my house! I want to fall in love with someone other than the Canada Post Carrier who visits sometimes — knocks on the door and then runs away. This year, my needs have become quite simple.
Yesterday, I bought a sweater at my local shop by standing on the sidewalk and using speaking and mad knitwear gestures
April Update: I value my friends and family, more than ever. I can write fuck now without using the * asterisk. I had one meal in a restaurant before the April lock-down or circuit breaker or shut-down (Ontario like to keep its citizens just a bit puzzled). Yesterday, I bought a sweater at my local shop by standing on the sidewalk and using speaking and mad knitwear gestures to infer what my ideal pullover might look like. I still love all delivery people, they bring happy in a box and it’s OK if they run away as long as they leave the package.
1. I want to see a movie. Imagine this; it’s a Tuesday night, you’ve worked 9 hours and you want to kick back and escape the realities of the day. Pay half the weekend rate and go to a VIP movie! Oh yes. We had those! There, you will sit in an insanely comfortable leather chair that goes back at the push of a button, have a lovely young man bring you French Fries and a glass of Chardonnay, and immerse yourself in a scintillating story that jettisons you through space and time with humour, horror, drama, and romance. When the two hours are up, you go home and fall into bed, refreshed from this virtual adventure. You dream of kings, queens, fairies, swashbucklers, and heroes. You do not dream of mortgage payments, cancelled travel plans, or who will be chosen to do this week’s grocery run.
April Update: I’ve behaviourly adjusted to the large TV screen in my house. I’ve become a content-a-saurus and can actually be giddy over a new HBO series. I’ll bet you do too. Check out The Young Pope. It’s a sweeping, grand, artfully, irreverent study of an unusual occurrence in Vatican City. Order your popcorn delivered from your local Cineplex. Because there’s nothing like movie theatre popcorn. Yes, I still yearn for those VIP lazy boy chairs.
2. I would appreciate a pedicure. Self-care is a thing the aughts taught me and I’m sort of attached to it. The yoga, massage, pedicures and spa day trips I’ve incorporated into my baseline care are an important way for me to stay sane and box out some ‘me’ time. Due to all the lock downs, I’ve tried to duplicate this experience at home with face masks from the drug store, salty baths, and a bag of tea light candles arranged in a neat circle around the tub. The pilot study of this new practice was under water in no time.
April Update: Today, a pedicure is me putting my feet into a cleaning bucket full of epsom salts and water and then putting nail polish on with the aid of my reading glasses. This is not ‘surprise and delight’, it’s just wrong and should be outlawed.
3. Online shopping is overrated. There is no virtual experience that matches the feel, the wooly scent, and the ocular satisfaction of trying on a cashmere sweater. Rifling through the racks finding one on sale in your size is like a dopamine party — hosted by your brain. No matter how advanced online platforms become, they will never be able to duplicate this experience. Hunting and gathering is in our DNA. Absolutely nothing can take the place of this largely female practice that happens around food selection, clothing, household items, and supplies. I yearn for this simple act of taking care.
My feet are so happy and, with all of the online yoga I’m doing, my toes have the flexibility of an ape flying through the tree tops to get to that last bunch of bananas.
April Update: I realized that I had not purchased a new pair of sexy shoes for over a year. This is definitely personal brand quandary. Like me, my feet have flattened and grown plump and comfy in my running shoes. The key learning? I don’t even want a new pair of heels. My feet are so happy and, with all of the online yoga I’m doing, my toes have the flexibility of an ape flying through the tree tops to get to that last bunch of bananas. I’m not exactly sure how to apply this new super power but rest assured, I’m working on it.
4. I want to laugh without worrying my spittle will land somewhere it shouldn’t. I know things about aerosols now that I never comprehended (or cared about) before. I also know about vaccine efficacy rates, herd immunity, and the chances our home will run out of toilet paper. This coagulates with deteriorating images of US politics. Combined with terror and vitriol from the unmasked and misguided masses. I turn my head away as one would when seeing a great country beating itself.
April Update: I will always worry about an errant lump of spit flying through the air and landing on an unwitting friend or family member. That’s just not cricket — pandemic or no pandemic. Aerosols still freak me out a bit but, there’s plenty of T Paper in the stores so, fake news — hahaha.
Giving provides so much psychic nurture to me that it’s bordering on selfish.
5. I want to give like no-one’s watching. In 2021, I realized that I want to be useful. This is not a commitment or a contract or even a promise. It just means I’m going to try. Here’s the question I ask every day; how can I detect, define, and bring support to someone else’s need today? It’s a good one because it can span from your house (AKA ‘the bunker’) all the way through your community and country and across the planet. The scope of my support can be tiny or large. A jar of homemade soup left on the porch of a neighbour’s home, volunteering at the farmers market, a donation of my skills to a not for profit in need, a call with a young professional looking for guidance, a smile to the old gentleman I see out walking almost every day. This provides so much psychic nurture to me that it’s bordering on selfish.
April Update: No update. I’ve been practicing ‘giving like no-ones watching’ since January ’21. It feels terrific. It’s a tiny tsunami of love that allows people to know they are seen and they are valued. I can also report that this must be some kind of magnanimous virtual hug as I found a large gift basket full of numminess outside my door last week. I am slowly devouring it’s contents one toasted almond at a time.
Penny drop: it’s not about showing others what we have, but rather showing people what we have to give. Then mic drop.
6. One tiny post-script. My husband is now burning scented candles in his home office on a regular basis. If that is not the light at the end of the tunnel, I don’t know what is.
April Update: the smell of vanilla bean candle is eking out of every un-dusted and un-vacuumed surface around the office. My mission? Get him a leather and tobacco scented candle for Father’s Day.
To our collective health and happiness. Thanks for reading.
