#6 / Honey's Not Home
Hi everyone,
It’s crazy sunny and gorgeous in Chicago today. Two days ago it snowed all morning. What are you gonna do?
I left my neighborhood twice (two times!) this week. An amazing achievement. What lustrous adventures did I partake in? Well!
On Monday I went to a little local artisan grocery called Whole Foods. (You probably haven’t heard of it.) It’s not even that far away. But I hadn’t driven that far away in a month, so it felt like a big deal. I never thought a trip to the supermarket could be so surreal. It’s as if I’d become uncertain of whether the rest of Chicago was still there around me, and upon confirming that it is, I felt relief and exaltation.
On Thursday I went much farther afield: downtown! I had a doctor’s appointment for a monthly shot. Now that was weird. It took 15 minutes to drive and park, a process that’s 30-45 minutes easy on any normal day. Staring at the lakefront high-rises, looking out across the water, seeing the skyscrapers as I approached the Loop, it was like being a tourist again. Almost enough to recapture the magic of exploring Chicago for the first time.
I parked in a garage, which was strangely full, and exited to the street without touching anything, mask secure. The sidewalks were barren.
I joked with the nurses that I haven’t been this far away from home since the last time I was in here for a shot, a month ago. It was true, though. And it felt like a year, not a month.
When you also consider that we really have no idea when this isolation is going to end, it can feel daunting. Conserve your psychic energy! It depletes the same way physical energy does, and in these conditions it takes more and more to simply get through the day.
Without psychic energy, we can’t feel empathy. Instead we feel resentment; we get impatient. This is a thing I now tell myself when I feel like there’s always another task on my list I can’t get to. I’m trying to maintain my own sanity, but I’m also trying to remain available for Ashley when she gets home after her shift.
I hate to say it, but there have been times when someone has asked me to listen, and I’ve thought, “why can’t you take care of yourself?” The truth is that when this happens, it means I haven’t taken care of myself. I haven’t saved enough energy for the people who matter to me. Including me. And that harms us all.
Credit: @semi_rad
Writing
Discernment
Knowing what is
and is not
important
is important
but knowing
what is important
means that
by definition
I know what is
not important
so it’s important
to focus first
on knowing what is
important
and then for anything
else that’s not
on the list
I will already know
whether it is
important
(it’s not)
Watching
I read the Albert Camus novel The Plague many years ago, before I could really appreciate all the themes. Of course, plague living, and more so, plague as a metaphor for the human condition, are more relevant than ever. Luckily The School of Life, whom I adore, have released a 10-minute video diving into these ideas. Camus is brilliant, and I’d like to read the book again sometime — but maybe not right now.
Mood
Titus Andronicus — “Home Alone”
Mommy's not home
Daddy's not home
Nobody's home
I’m home aloneI open the door
”Honey, I'm home”
But honey's not home
She left me home alone
https://open.spotify.com/track/5DmhHDEC8cqr5O7kDiro99?si=qVr1j8D_TwiLKGOdEZVxIA
Thanks for reading. Please write back if you can!
Love,
Aaron