“A little flower that blooms in May
A lovely sunset at the end of a day
Someone helping a stranger along the way
That's heaven to me”
"That's Heaven To Me"
I can feel a difference percolating in my heart and mind as we begin to move back into the world after a year plus of social isolation. On a very real, almost visceral level, I can feel flowers, sunlight and the promise of friendship over a cup of iced coffee beckoning me from the comfort and warmth of my safe place.
COVID brought with it many things, some of which was a time to quiet my life and my mind. It became a time to only deal with what was directly in front of me. I have to say I welcomed this quietness. A forced, year long break from traffic, bras, late dinners, parking garages and pants that bind.
Now I must confront a world opening up and I realize this journey back into socialization is not without some trepidation on my part. I am reluctant to give up an insulated life with built-in protections preventing me from overextending and extending myself to another human not in my immediate COVID pod—if I were to be totally honest with myself and you. Navigating this new world, even if it’s a familiar one, feels completely alien and new. I wonder how I will survive social reentry if I cannot get past my fears and apathy for reconnection?
I watched an incredibly moving video on Instagram by @meirkay yesterday that brought me to tears. In the video he stood blindfolded, arms outstretched offering hugs to anyone brave enough to accept unconditional love and goodwill from a Jewish man standing up for peace.
I still weep as I recall how moved I was—how moved I am.
@meirkay ‘s video challenged me to crawl out from the warmth of a quiet world into communion with others. I plan to do this slowly. With a consciousness of adding value and positivity Instead of blindly filling my days with events and chores and even people who do not bring meaning in my life.
In doing so, my hope is to integrate the insulated peace of isolation outside the safety of my immediate family into a world crying out for peace and connection. It is with the acknowledgment that I am raw with the heaviness of last year and quite out of practice in remembering how to socialize.
My journey back will begin with the a relatively easy assignment of taking my son OUT to a steak dinner. In public. In person. Without any exorbitant delivery fees or tips added to my bill. My son and I dare showing up to eat in communion with others albeit 6’ apart. I figure if the flowers in May can burst out of their cozy slumber to show off their existence to the world I suppose I can too.