I have loaded recent posts by writing about how I spend my days. And when my days are filled, I do pretty well. But, there are those other times, the ones that feel as if I have spent the entire day walking in circles. Certainly I am not actually walking in circles all day. It just feels like it. I have usually accomplished something, even if it is just brushing my teeth and making my bed. And, truthfully, even on those days I generally accomplish more. But I have found that setting aside days for leisure: doing crossword puzzles; trying to take a nap; or recently, hanging out by the pool reading, these seem to be the worst days. Lord knows I haven't taken a vacation since March, and I am a quart low on vacations over the past five years. So why can't I enjoy a Vacay Day? Well, the obvious has already been addressed here: Distractions help a lot. Even if you don't have the disease, you can still make yourself feel bad (angry, frightened, anxious, frustrated) by thinking about it. And, honestly, even without a deadly pandemic, there are a lot of things going on in our world that can freak you out if you take too much time to reflect upon them. Keeping busy keeps your mind in a better place, focused on your task or activity.
Hanging out by the pool has been an unexpected challenge. I have a pool in the center of a U-shaped home, set in a courtyard which, along with the house, is on top of a gentle hill. It is private enough. And the view, looking up from the lounges by the pool to the mid-century modern home with its well-trimmed, swaying palms that sits above my back hill, is pretty nice. This should be the perfect place to hang, read, write, and swim. But for years I have shared the space and now I am alone. Living alone works for me. I actually enjoy it. But something about being outside by the pool brings the ghosts of summers past with it. And I miss spending time with my friends.
Brendan and Diana began coming to our home almost twenty years or so back. They first came with their daughters, who slept feet to feet on the L-shaped sectional sofa in the family room. After the girls were on their own, Brendan and Diana came alone, and their visits fell into a pattern in the days spent together. We would get up at staggered times, and drink our coffee and tea, with a side of conversation, on the smaller patio with the round teak table. Breakfast was help-yourself pastries, yogurt, granola, hard-boiled eggs, and fruit. Days were spent by the pool, or in the pool playing basketball or having float races, fueled by juice drinks and beer from the outdoor cooler. Snacks provided mid-day. Sometimes during the day I would slip inside to do some prep work for dinner, which was usually a simple pasta or roast chicken and salad with wine and good cheeses. And there was always cake.
After dinner, we relentlessly played Shithead (I apologize for the vulgarity, but that is what it is called), a card game they taught us, until well into the early hours of morning. While playing, Diana and I sang along with the songs from my playlists which accompanied our games. Then bed, sleep, do over. On the last night, they would take us out to dinner. Two years ago, Joel and I chose a Cuban restaurant, so they could experience something somewhat akin to our salsa club nights.
This year, as July 4th rolled around, I began to spend time outside with the idea that I would enjoy my outside solitude as well as my pool. But, so far, it hasn't worked. I have just felt sad that I am not enjoying this space with Joel and with my friends -- with any friends. And I have begun to think how I can do that. Clearly, it is not going to work with Joel as he continues as an essential worker and we continue to shelter apart. Nor will it work with Brendan and Diana as travel would be involved as well as co-habiting. We have all been cautious, but any risk is unnecessary risk. But, maybe I can devise a frister day, with one of my girlfriends who has been just as cautious as I have throughout this time. I spend so much time talking or texting with the girls. Maybe I can move a conversation to the lounges under the umbrellas by the pool. They are easily six-feet apart.
This all brings up the continuing hardship of this time, feeling bereft of the pleasures we have come to expect that we will always have. There is certainly a lesson in this, and I expect it is about appreciation. Recently, I watched the film Room for the first time and I couldn't stop myself from thinking that there were some parallels to life under Covid19. It's as if we have taken ourselves hostage as our only defense to something our country hasn't a handle on. And the feelings that come with this are feelings that must be felt. They provide the awareness part of awareness plus action equals change. The action will be in how much I will strive to appreciate my life when I am once again free and able to share my home with the people in my life. And the change will come from viewing the world in a different way, through that lens of appreciation. Only then will time out become welcome again. And that, along with sharing my home each summer with friends, like Diana and Brendan, is something to anticipate with no small degree of gladness. Thank you for reading my blog.
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