We’re at the end of Week 3 of quarantine and I’m tired today.
I’m tired of staying home. I’m tired of cooking. I’m tired of being around my family. I’m tired of Zoom. I’m tired of wearing slippers. I’m tired of wanting to go somewhere and not being able to. I’m tired of reading the news, hoping for good news about the pandemic and not finding any. I’m tired of playing board games. I’m tired of watching movies. I’m tired of fighting with my husband because we have nowhere to take our stress. I’m tired of reading. I’m tried of escaping the real world with media consumption. I’m tired of waiting for this thing to play out.
But I know this will not last forever. Someday I will look back on this and remember “when we were living in a pandemic.”
I know my attitude is a choice. I know so many have it so much worse. My head is stuffed full of these truths, but they are refusing to make the 8 inch journey to my heart today. I know there are kids stuck at home with alcoholic parents and families who were living paycheck to paycheck who no longer have money to buy food and people who don’t have homes to quarantine in. I know it all.
But today my heart feels incapable of caring.
And as an Enneagram 2, that is a super weird place to be.
I wish I could pray this away. That God would just decide now was a time for a miracle and today would be the day things turned around. Everything in me wants to find the formula – the right combination of prayer and surrender and action – to stop this thing.
“The only way out is through.” Robert Frost said that, I think.
And I guess those words give me the faintest hope that each day is one day closer to the end of this thing.
That hope will have to be enough for today.