Back in February, our family left for Tobago.
I brought my DSLR camera with me. The autofocus had become a little unreliable, but not bad enough for me to do anything about it.
The first day of our vacation, it stopped working completely. I was able to take a couple of photos, and then it refused to do anything further.
Something different happened this past weekend. Lockdown could be summarized as weeks of mental torpor and fatigue, wishing I was inspired to be creative while I was stuck at home. With few exceptions, I crept through the occasional project with little enthusiasm.
Friday came. Finally, I had the energy and inspiration to start a sewing project – one I’d been planning for a long time but hadn’t had the bandwidth to get started on. It came out just as I’d hoped.
The next day, I tackled a wall mural that I’d been planning for months. It was a group project with the kids. We had our moments – like when I hit my head on the door frame while doing some of the detail work on the mural, but somehow, every kid (except my oldest, who didn’t care) got to help paint a section of the mural or consult on color choice.
When you live in a house with others, sometimes when another person experiences a mental shift, it’s like the wind has changed direction and everyone can feel it.
I went to the grocery store for the first time since we got back from vacation today.
Normally, I shop like it’s Armageddon. We have a household of nine and it stinks to run out of stuff. As usual in the weeks leading up to our trip, I let our pantry supplies dwindle to leave less that might go to waste or be nibbled on by mice while we were away.
The second week of our trip, we watched the news as things slowly ramped up. When we arrived in JFK just a little over a week ago, the airport was deserted.
By the time we got home and the Chaplain did a grocery run, we picked up a few things here and there as we slowly got a list together for a bigger grocery run and reoriented to life in the Northeast again.
We ran out of pasta and toilet paper around the same time the grocery stores did.
Personal growth.
You realize there is something in your life that you want to change.
You’re aware of it for months or years. You do a ton of work.
That thing you want to change doesn’t budge.
Some other things get better – you’re more authentic, less reactive.
But that thing you would really like to change? Still there.
Remember how I was a floundering blob of anxiety for the beginning of the mindful making retreat? That didn’t completely go away.
But the temperature of the anxious energy that was burning up my insides went way down.
By the time the retreat ended late Sunday afternoon, I was exhausted from all the driving and the social interactions, and already had a vulnerability hangover, but I was so relaxed.
The best part of this is that much of what we did is stuff I do at home, but it was how we did it.
