Grey Skies, No Lies

Reminded of this article after a long talk with a friend today:

We’re feeling a number of different griefs. We feel the world has changed, and it has. We know this is temporary, but it doesn’t feel that way, and we realize things will be different. Just as going to the airport is forever different from how it was before 9/11, things will change and this is the point at which they changed. The loss of normalcy; the fear of economic toll; the loss of connection. This is hitting us and we’re grieving. Collectively. We are not used to this kind of collective grief in the air.

That Discomfort You’re Feeling Is Grief

That article is from March 23rd of 2020, which feels like a life-time ago. And how did anyone hit the nail on the head just a week after we started shutting things down?

We’re grieving the loss of normal, of safety, of security, of spontaneity. Stuff is upside down right now, and just keeping our head up is an act of defiance and bravery.

We no longer have a commute. We don’t have shows, or dinners, or meet ups like we used to, to break up our days. Our weeks. The day to day is stuck on loop. Like the Groundhog Day movie, but way darker because it’s happening in real life, and the ending credits are nowhere to be seen.

Today I remembered going into the city. Driving to the bus station, the two hour bus ride, walking out of Port Authority Bus Terminal and seeing the NYTimes building. I fired up Google Maps street view just to remember what that was like. I strolled down the street, heading east to Bryant Park. Dammit I miss Bryant Park.

I miss being able to meet up with friends at shows, and all the talks and adventure that place before the doors even open. Late night drives home, and everything they reveal.

This year has stripped a lot of the possibilities away. Great conversations are still happening, and the random hangs with select folks, but still, this shit is hard.

Stress is Real

Close that laptop and go for a long walk, run, dance, whatever. Move your bones, emails can wait.

I went through some dark harrowing times in 2014, 2015; broke as fuck, closed bank account, no steady work. Long walks helped save my ass (along with wonderful friends). Note that I’m not saying JUST GET OUTSIDE! DEPRESSION ISN’T REAL. Fuck that noise.

You can only answer so many emails, check off so many tasks. Eventually you’re making mistakes, resentment swells. Just get away. Law of diminishing returns. You’re not gonna remember those three things on your to-do list that you cleared on a Thursday night. Not compared to some walk where you might run into a great dog or two, or a gorgeous sun set.

Put on ‘Party Hard’ and groove.

Time in Nature

Some days hurt, some days you float. This was a nice six miles around the Trexlertown Nature Preserve, on a new route I’ve never done before. Started off chilly and breezy, and saw a woman modeling with antlers in the woods, so all in all a great run.

The thing about trail running is it’s time in the woods, which I cherish. Lately I’ve been taking it slow and easy, which just means more time in the woods, so it’s a win win all around. I keep reminding myself that I’m not racing, I’m just out in nature. So when it hurts, slow down. Walk. Take a photo (or two).

Soft Running

Some days I just don’t feel like a hard run. I don’t feel tough, or strong. I just want to be… soft.

I want to stop and take photos. I want to kick up pine needles so I can breathe in that wonderful smell. I want to just, stop, and appreciate the clouds and the sky.

Soft running.

A lot of times I just want to be in nature, but a little faster than walking. A shuffle, a jog, and that’s okay. Every run is not a race, and every run doesn’t have to be training. A run, like a walk, can be just because.

Soft running.

Falling Apart in Hotels

I love this thread on Twitter:

Hotels are amazing. They can be like little landing pads for wherever you are in life, with no judgement. There’s coffee, internet, big beds, and (usually) well lit bathrooms with plenty of towels.

It’s odd – I never thought of checking into a hotel during this time of COVID, but the prospect has me thinking.

“Sometimes to fall apart, sometimes just to reset. Phone off, food, quiet, movies, books. Just myself.”

Twitter

This sounds amazing, actually. A total reset, just to get away.

Right Place, Right Time

However these things happen, they just happen. Some are low impact, or not even noticeable, but wow, this instance my attention.

I had already gone out for a run earlier in the day, but a new pair of shoes came in the mail, and I needed to break them in. A short evening walk turned into something magical.

Went out for a run yesterday. Garbage. Legs felt heavy, chest felt full of mashed potatoes. I don’t know what happened.

Today, thought I’d go for a quick “run to the mailbox” (my way of going out for the mail, but actually going for a run, and just seeing what happens).

Pure magic. Gliding on air, coasting like a bike, I don’t know what happened but it was stellar.

In each case I didn’t know what to expect, but getting out there in the first place is the only way to find out.

Mid Day Shuffling

Work processes, funds, bills, invoices, filing receipts… generally the stuff to figure and manage on the weekends after working all week on work stuff.

Weekends have been good for this, though, as the flow of incoming requests goes to zero, and I can focus and get these important things done. If I don’t do them, they don’t get done.

A long walk helps. Heck, on Friday I ducked out for three short runs. I say “duck out” like I work full-time for some big company, but I’ve been a freelancer since 2006 and still feel like I’m getting away with something when I walk away from my computer for more than 30 minutes.

But I had my running shoes on, and when it was time to get the mail, I guess I just took the long way. Instead of refilling my coffee and nuking it for 45 seconds, in which I’d be able to walk to the mailbox and back just in time to hear the beeping microwave, I put on my sunglasses and cruised around the back road and alleys for a mile or so, just getting the heart going and the feet shuffling.

Fitting in these moments – just like the work stuff described above – just has to happen, as easily and as frictionless and scrolling through Instagram for 12 minutes.

More Unease

Since Trump was diagnosed with COVID-19 (or was he?!), it’s been harder to focus. I mean, everything has been batshit crazy, but now? Now the leader of the free world has a virus that has killed over 200,000 Americans. I mean, aside from the Nelson-esque “AH HA,” this is some serious shit. Like, what if our adversaries were to strike? What if a major earth quake were to happen? What if some major electrical grid went down?

Leadership is bad enough at the moment, but them compound with that?

So it’s just been more unease. Like, working from home and all, or when going to sleep at night, you just sort of figure, hey, grown ups are in charge, and they’re handling things.

But more and more it just feels like that’s not the case, which makes it hard to focus on much of anything at the moment.

Juggling Full Time Jobs

Sure, I’ve seen the news. Even if I didn’t check the news, alerts pop up on my phone. Friends message me. Today was quite a day for that.

Years ago I thought of the music media business as driving up a never ending mountain, with bosses in the back seat yelling to go faster.

That still exists, I guess, but now it’s on the consumer to keep ingesting everything. Put your phone down for 15 minutes and you could miss a big Tweet, a new update, a leak, some source coming out, a video, audio, so many things!

Keeping up is a full time job, on top of our full time jobs, of which we already have many. It’s not enough to have the work that we do, but also the work of not contracting a super-deadly virus. The work of staying away from people, only going out when we need. And it’s even overwhelming all the fund raisers going on, the organizations we need to support, the art and music that that we want to nurture.

I always come back to this; I can’t save the world. If I do one thing today, that’s enough. And if I don’t, well, that’s nobodies business. We’re all here to do what we’re all here to do. And that’s enough for today. Tomorrow? Hell, that’s not even here yet.