And just like that, everything stops.
I come out here to the window seat with my tea and the pug, and crack the window to let out a fly that’s buzzing around. Birdsong enters the little room from the mockingbird I was aware of during my meditation this morning, as well as from seagulls and crows, and small fits of what I guess are warblers and sparrows. The city is quiet now with the shutdown, and it feels so strange to be able to pinpoint the sound of the ferry motor in the distance, heading to Sausalito over the glassy Bay.
In a way, I feel as though I’ve been planning for this my whole life. I flash back to all those hours during all the various day jobs, wishing for time to just be, fantasizing about time spent doing those things I most love to do, with no where to go and no demands. All those fleeting ideas of creative projects put off, all those things I wanted to investigate and learn and create. Here I am now, and the weight of possibility is so heavy it takes me a few days to get used to it. Continue reading “Sheltering in Place”