It has been two weeks and two days since our lives changed. I’m struck by the dichotomy of feelings. There are moments, moments where we are laughing and telling stories and loving and it seems like we will all be okay. And then there are moments, other moments where the world doesn’t make sense any more and it feels like we will never be okay.
Going back to work has been both wonderful and terrible. I am grateful for the routine, the normalcy, the tasks to keep me busy. And yet I’m equally horrified that life is continuing on, much as it did before.
Many years ago I noticed something odd. Often, I would go to the movies or the theatre. Sometimes, when the production was particularly moving, I would emerge from the theatre feeling like some part of me had been fundamentally changed and that anyone who hadn’t seen what I had seen couldn’t possibly be seeing the world the same way I did. Usually the feeling only lasted a few hours or days, and then I felt like I returned to “normal.” I see the parallels now; the world doesn’t look quite the same to me and we have to try and find a new normal.
But we must move on, whether we like it or not. As I’ve been wondering how to do so, and more specifically what I could come back and post about that wouldn’t feel too trivial, too hollow, I was struck by it tonight. Tonight we borrowed a tiller from some friends and tilled our vegetable bed. We’ve been meaning to do it for weeks, but the weather has thwarted us. Tonight, before dinner, while it was still light out, we took time out to start preparing our garden. It’s a new beginning for us – neither of us has ever planted a vegetable garden before. And it feels like a metaphor to me – we’re starting anew and trying to move forward. And that’s okay.