I'm working from home these days, as are many of us. And while it's challenging - I'm prone to depression, and I've been going through a difficult stretch for quite a while, for a number of reasons - I'm doing my best to counteract the feelings of loneliness and uncertainty by keeping in mind those who are making huge sacrifices for all of us.
People like my sister:
The photo is from a front page story in Saturday's Boston Globe. She's a nurse practitioner, and she and her colleagues at the clinic where she works are providing drive-through testing for the coronavirus. Here's another photo of her in action - she's at the car window.
People like my sister and her colleagues, the staff at the supermarket where I went shopping Thursday evening, the pharmacist at the drugstore where I picked up my estrogen patches on Friday evening, and many, many others are genuine heroes. It's encouraging to see people (not all of them, unfortunately, but quite a few) recognize them as such. I made it a point to thank the staff at the pharmacy and the supermarket to let them know their efforts are not going unnoticed. Even though times are challenging, thinking of them helps me to maintain perspective.
In the weeks and months to come there will be a great deal of speculation about how the world will change because of the pandemic. As horrific as it has been, and will continue to be, we can hope that it will inspire a more compassionate, equitable society once we get to the other side (and we will get to the other side).
On a personal note, I've been feeling stuck in a rut, both professional and personally, for far too long. I had already begun taking tentative steps to break out of it when the pandemic hit with full force. While I don't know how long it will take for things to return to some semblance of normalcy, I know that where I have been is no longer enough for me. I feel I have more to offer the world than what I've been doing.
I don't quite know how to get where I want to be, but I'm reminded of when I started my transition. I didn't know how to do that either - and yet here I am, living as myself at long last. If I can do that, I can do anything I put my mind to.
The first part of that will be appearing at this site in the weeks to come. I have something I've needed to write for a long, long time, and I've been putting it off and putting it off because I know how painful it will be. But I've realized that not writing it is holding me back from fully living. So, I've started work on it. It will be difficult, and will take time, but I have faith that finishing it will provide clarity and a sense of purpose. I can't prove it; I just know that it will lead me to be doing what I was put here to do. So, please bear with me. I hope others will find the result worthwhile as well.
In the meantime, please be safe, take care of your loved ones, and remember that we are all lost together.
That's the title track from Blue Rodeo's 1992 album. They close every concert with this, and you can see why in this great live version from Halifax, Nova Scotia from a few years ago:
In case you're wondering, the handsome young gent singing the second verse solo is Devin Cuddy, the son of Jim Cuddy, one of the two songwriters in the band (along with Greg Keelor, who wrote and sings this song). That is one proud papa looking on as he sings. 😊
And on that happy note we will wrap this up. See you soon, everyone...
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2 comments:
The process of putting your feelings and what they are pushing you toward is amazingly helpful. I wrote, years ago now, "... without the words, the understanding might never have come. " I still know it to be true.
You definitely have a lot to offer the world, and you deserve happiness dear Cassidy.
Thank you, Miss D. Spoken like a fellow writer. :D
Love,
Cass
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