It’s been gone so long, that I’m finding my new, if fragile positive outlook, a little bit disorienting.
Spring’s arrival surely doesn’t hurt, but that can not explain it entirely, for the past few springs haven’t been accompanied by any customary, seasonal mood shift on my part.
Numbness is how I function in grief. And grief, I’ve learned, will take the time it takes. Since the world’s Covid grief has run concurrent with and compounded my own for so long, I’d become so acclimated to numb that I’d begun to believe it was my new steady state.
Lately, though, tiny day-by-day actions are beginning to accrete into something substantial that feels like an expectation of possible good to come, a return of my old hopefulness where a void had taken up residence. In the spirit of my burgeoning hope, and the knowledge that someone reading this might be ready to begin the slow work of their own inner thaw, I’m sharing a list I’ve made of some things that have helped/are helping me so it’s a ready resource for the inevitable next time it is required.
A Recipe for Hope:
Mind your time.
Spend it like it’s precious.
Pay attention. Follow your curiosity.
Choose real over virtual, almost always. When you opt for virtual, do it consciously.
Get outside every day.
Move your body.
Test to your physical and mental capacity when you work.
Thoroughly relax and nourish yourself when you rest.
Cliche, but with good reason – count your blessings, gratitudes whatever you want to call them.
Go new places, see new things.
Learn something, make something, fix something, try something new. Every day.
Mind your time . . .
What would you put in your recipe?