Thoughts On Reopening.....

I wonder if they are ready to welcome the world again or if they are okay just napping forever in here?!

To think this time last year we were in a lockdown. And now it all seems to be coming to an end. For most of you it was a truly awful experience but for me it wasn't all bad. I really grew to appreciate the changes it brought to my life and if I am being completely honest here -I am simply not ready to entirely release my grasp on them. I finally had the time + desire to learn new hobbies, make new recipes, rediscover things I hadn’t even thought about in ages! I loved the quiet - I loved the silence ...

I began to feel more like a human and not a machine all while nurturing my inner introvert! I loved having a good excuse to avoid people. ( just being 100 truthful here) The obligation to be social really stresses me out!

I do miss traveling .. Tulsa makes me sad. I miss movie theatres ! ( now before you tell me every movie is available now to stream- I am well aware - but I need that escape for an hour and a half where I can’t be distracted by my dogs, or my home chores, or my phone) I miss live music too!

Anyway truly struggling. Already hate the longer days of light welcoming us today so much ( I do not thrive in the spring and summer) and then adding that with everyone coming out of a year quarantine .. it’s all too much! It’s already so loud and so annoying. And all the people by the river by my house and all the calls flooding in to get together ! The anxiety I was finding control in is now already crippling me. Omg 😳.. just going to crawl into this jewelry drawer!

I am overwhelmed. And I am not ready!

Do you relate to this in anyway ? What did you learn in 365 days? There has to be something good?! Or are you just jumping back in without really looking?!

Discovered these beautiful words by Maya Stein ➰ Just so beautiful to not share .

“When we get through this, I want us to set a table with all of the loaves of bread
we’d practiced in our quiet houses. I want us clutching fistfuls of the cilantro we coaxed
from our city windowsills, and I want the nascent musicians, the ones who learned
old songs on their new ukuleles, or warbled choruses on isolated balconies, to take
the stage together. I want all the knitted, crocheted, stitched, and mended things pooled
at our feet, warming our ankles. I want us to greet each other in unfamiliar languages,
to tell the stories of those who have been lost. I want us to look, in unison,
toward the world millions of miles and light-years away, to take in what is before us,
and beyond us. I want us to wake to the magnitude of our fortune against the smallness
of our time. And then I want us to remember this, and to keep remembering.”