Tuesday, March 22, 2022

My Inner Recluse

Early this morning, TBG and I sat on the patio, listening to the birds, watching the yellow come out as the sweet acacia begins to bloom, doing nothing but being.  

In some ways, I miss Pandemica's endless days of nothing.  He stared at me in wonder, his always on the go wife regretting that there were places to go and people to see and things to do.  But I found myself believing it.  

I know that young parents had an entirely different experience - there was never enough time even as the days stretched on endlessly - but I was remembering reading the 23 Kate Shugak books, non-stop, moving only from the comfy chair to the couch. 

I did it to pass the time, the 2 weeks of sheltering in place that we all thought would nip this disease in the bud.  Now, looking back on 2 years of restricted living,  I find myself resenting the fact that I know what day of the week it is.

My calendar is booked up.  I have calls to return.  The HOA meeting will be held in the back yard of the new President's home, not on Zoom; I'll have to wear shoes and real pants to attend.  

There's a lot more laundry now that we are doing things and going places.  

Moving along to a Vimeo Pilates class this morning, I flashed back to the first time I watched that reel, in the first early summer of Pandemica.  It was instantly terrifying.  I watched the hawk circling the neighborhood and remembered how frightening the outside world had suddenly become.  My walls seemed to hold back the awfulness, the fear, the disease.  

The feeling passed quickly; it's hard to panic when you're doing a plie while balancing on one foot.  But there's been a lingering aura all afternoon, a push-pull between wanting to run to every store I've ever visited and the overwhelming urge to retreat with a book to the backyard and never move again.

Before the world shut down, days on end with nothing to do was my recipe for depression.  After Pandemica, I'm surprised to find that the reclusive side of myself is actually a lot stronger than I'd ever realized.

Turns out that 70 is not too old to learn more things about myself.


  1. Since I am now less able physically I am working on my brain to be less busy. It might be working.

    1. I got a jump start on that after being perforated. Lying still for 14 weeks, then losing hiking and scurrying... once the body settled the mind was not far behind.

  2. New to your site. I started following you 'cause I enjoyed your post and want to see what you will have next. I have found out that you can learn more things about yourself and the world itself at any age. I am 88 and I love learning and experiencing things. So thankful to be alive!


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