Getting Sick to Get Better
Greetings from the Berkshires! I’m lucky enough to be spending the next few weeks holed up in Lenox, Massachusetts with my boyfriend and his family. When we arrived last week, the weather outside seemed just poised on the brink of spring; skies were grey and overcast, the air was just a little too crisp. Then—seemingly overnight—the weather completely turned around and spring is now in full bloom.
Our days currently revolve around spending as much time as possible outdoors. We sit on the back deck in the morning to drink our coffee; we walk the same loop around the neighborhood almost every afternoon. Every time I’m outside, I can’t help but be distracted by the beauty of it all. Buds are blooming on bare trees and flowers are springing out from the ground. The air, sunny and warm, smells like fresh dirt. The almost orchestral sound of birds swells from the woods. All around the property, various footprints of our critter visitors are imprinted in the soil. I can’t believe that now, at 24 years old, I finally understand the privilege of being able to be outside.
Before quarantine, I think I always viewed “outside” as a way to get to the places I was going; something to just pass through. Now, I’m starting to finally learn the skill of being present, something I have truthfully always struggled with. Maybe it’s because in the past few months, I’ve felt that so much was taken away from me: security, certainty, friends, plans, an office to work in—that I’ve finally started to direct my attention to what I have.
I have to give credit to this video from Tomos Roberts for my new way of thinking. He finds the silver linings to what’s going on in the world; in the extra time we now possess to be present and appreciate what we used to overlook. He suggests that after all of this is over, the time we’ve spent in our houses growing as people might allow us to find the world better than we left it. “Sometimes you have to get sick in order to get better,” Roberts so simply yet observantly puts it.
Things will be different after this is over, but maybe that’s because they need to be. I’m curious to see how the world will heal after all of this, and I’m now choosing to believe that we will all come out of it for the better, growing and remembering what really matters. For now, these are the things that are reminding me each day that it isn’t all bad. In fact, it’s really good.
Bread and Butter
I really miss going to grocery stores. I miss having a choice in the brands I pick; not just purchasing whatever kind of cheese is available on Instacart. I recognize how extremely privileged I am to even be able to get food right now, and although it is not in the way I’m used to, I am incredibly lucky to not worry about where my next meal will come from, which is the terrible reality for so many right now (look here for ways to help). With the luxury of wandering grocery store aisles gone, and restaurants closed for an indefinite amount of time, the food we do get now—even everyday staples—seems more special and enjoyable. Perhaps it should have always felt this way, and we’re finally getting a reality check.
This past Sunday, after a visit with friends, we spontaneously decided to pull into the lot of Berkshire Mountain Bakery and do curbside pickup for their fresh bread and butter. As our anticipation grew for our name to be called to pickup our bag of goods, followed by the long ride home, the bread started to seem like a prize; something worth waiting for. We devoured slices of ciabatta with thick layers of salted butter back at the house, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had enjoyed something so much. This simple thing that I used to mindlessly eat at a restaurant table to tide me over before a meal now tasted exquisite. We’ve slowly worked our way through both loaves and multiple rolls this week, and not once have I worried about the fact that I’m eating much more bread than usual, or about the calories of the butter. I’m just enjoying it.
Prison break
With all of this extra time, sometimes choosing what to watch can be a task in and of itself. Luckily this week my boyfriend and I found a show we’re completely hooked on: Prison Break. While this is from 2005 and by no means a new show, it is for the two of us, and we’ve had the best time settling in every night after dinner to watch a few episodes. I didn’t realize what a nice change it is to watch an old serialized prime time television show, something so different from today’s format of bingeable series. Prison Break has recaps at the beginning of each episode and breaks where commercials would have been; something that now seems like a relic of the past. The show has kept me on the edge of my seat wondering what will happen next, but perhaps more importantly, it has given me a new ritual. I’m the type of person who craves the structure of a routine, so it’s no surprise that when quarantine first began, I was really thrown for a loop. Now, I try to make routines for myself in even the smallest of ways, and lately it has been the reward of winding down after the work day with a few episodes of this addicting show.
Harry Potter At home
If you read my last post, it’s no secret that I’m a major Harry Potter fan. The books and movies (which I’m rewatching with my boyfriend who is a first timer!) have given me so much comfort throughout quarantine that naturally I was ECSTATIC when I found out about the new podcast Harry Potter At Home. Episodes are posted a few times a week featuring familiar voices from the Harry Potter universe as they read The Sorcerer’s Stone chapter by chapter. Trust me you have not lived until you’ve heard dear sweet Eddie Redmayne read “The Letters From No One.” It must be complete kismet that this podcast came out just as I finished rereading the books, giving me yet another excuse to disappear into my favorite magical world. But what I might love most of all is the anticipation of waiting for each chapter to drop. It feels wonderful to have something to look forward to each week, rather than receive all of the episodes at once, and with that, the urgency to binge. Even reading the books, I couldn’t resist reading through 300 pages a day, but this podcast is giving me something new: the chance to experience each chapter on its own, and yet another reason to slow down and appreciate something small.