If you are looking for light-and-uplifting, look away now. You will not find it here.
In the last several days I’ve attempted to write a handful of posts and each one was abandoned because I felt the tone was too sad and melancholy. They were not a proper reflection of how I thought I felt.
But this morning I woke up to rain and dark overcast skies.
… and the ubiquitous pandemic news.
… and the continuing bickering over “lives vs the economy”.
… and now a looming crisis in our food supply chain, with the virus having spread into the massive meat packing plants of North America.
As I nursed my morning coffee, the only solution I could come up with – other than burying myself in deep denial – was to embrace the melancholy and gloom. In other words, I went out in the rain hoping the messiness of nature would wash off the stink of growing despair.
Yes, I went rogue … going out on a forbidden city trail.
Clearly I wasn’t the only one. I encountered 3 humans, 5 dogs, and a whole lot of footprints to prove others came before me.
The rain did not let up for one minute, and although I was initially cold in the 9C (48F) morning temperature, I warmed up quickly enough … which was a good thing since I had only my phone, and a pair of gloves that made using the phone virtually impossible if I kept them on.
Try juggling gloves, a phone, and an umbrella in the persistent rain.
It was an odd kind of excursion. For starters, I was alone. What could possibly go wrong on a deserted trail in the misty gloom of a rainy morning?
Spoiler alert – nothing.
It gave me the opportunity to have a long overdue conversation with Mother Nature. I apologized for the complete cock-up we humans have made of things. We have a lot of shit to atone for.
But mostly I reflected on my suspicions that we haven’t seen the worst yet.
And there it finally was … the reason for my writing block, the restless nights, and the low-level anxiety I couldn’t shake.
I was afraid.
I was afraid of what could be coming next – growing protests against the closures and forced isolation. Civil disobedience. Growing animosity between people. Food shortages. Recession.
… not to mention the dreaded second wave.
It’s funny how a monster, once faced, no longer seems so scary.
It took a walk in the rain, and ultimately getting quite wet and muddy, to recognize that I have no power, no control over this situation. I am not a decision maker. I am not an influencer.
I have only my attitude.
… and today I declared I’ve had enough.
I will not be bullied by fear … and I left that unwelcome visitor on the trail.