This time of Covid has been remarkably incredible on a grip of levels.
21 months of the word Corona meaning something other than Mexican beer. All the challenges and trials of learning to deal with new circumstances, conditions and unhinged airline passengers. Supply chain struggles, labor shortages, and friends and family leaving us too early, suddenly and so incredibly unexpectedly. We just reached the 5 million mark worldwide. I barely know anyone personally who has died of Covid, but I sure have lost a lot of friends these last two years to other causes. Maybe it started a little before Covid, but it has ramped to a crescendo these last few weeks. Three friends in as many weeks — making the month I hate the most, November, seem darker and more moody than usual.
A dear and wise old friend just told me this morning that his new words for happiness and meaning are personal peace. He said something about breathing deeply, looking around you, great meals and great sex being the entries to this place, but he uses those last two markers as a measure for most things. The place where we sit and consciously appreciate where, and whom, we are with. Not enough of that going on lately, especially the spontaneous kind we use to all enjoy so much.
Make the time to let the ones you love (and that list is probably huge) know how much you love them — great opportunity with holidays just ahead of us. We are all tourists on this big blue spinning island in space — make sure your fellow vacationers know how you feel about them. Love y’all, be safe.