(Sitting in Solitude among the Blue Steps - Chefchaouen, Morocco - 2014)
- APRIL 6, 2020 -
I am hopelessly addicted to the news, and the slow motion catastrophe that is happening on a daily basis, drowning in waves of repulsion and anxiety. I embody an urge that compels me to disengage from all the noise, and another ache that fears being uninformed. Even if I am continually disgusted and disheartened by the news, I cannot look away. Crazy how we were just doing the impeachment dance in January, and now that it is all but forgotten.
I’ve been wondering how this time of forced self reflection will ultimately affect people? How many people will fall in love again, or get a divorce? How will the feelings of connection and isolation in families be intensified? How will people use their solitude? Will they reprioritize their lives? Simplify? Become appreciative of the smaller things? Realize what truly is important to them individually? Will they actually look in the mirror? And will they maintain that honesty with themselves after the pandemic ends?
For me, solitude remains sweet. I love being in my own flow, whatever it is. Uninterrupted space is a blessing, and for this artist mind, it is a delight to discover where my flow leads me when I am left to my own movements, to see how the pieces begin to fit together. I wonder what I will create — what will life look like on the other end of this?
Truthfully, as sweet as time to myself has been, I still struggle daily with motivation. I feel lazy. It’s so easy to disappear into a Netflix dream, or long winding weaving conversations with friends about love, life, death, work, culture, history, politics and the mind blowing polarization of people. I lose time. So I’m feeling very grateful to have an abundance of it right now.
Everything coming to you is a gift.