"Rhythm" Covid Chronicles - January 2020
No bad days….just kidding. I know at least 8 people having some of worst days of their lives right now. I got my oldest daughter a leotard for Christmas that says, “No Bad Days” with a smiley face under it. She hates it; won’t wear it to gymnastics practice.
I go out in the ocean for an escape. It’s been burly, grindy, meaty, dodgey—all the surf words for unrelaxing. I sit on the inside, take them all on the head, finally find a corner for release; a small rhythm. When I’m back on the beach, I feel relieved. I don’t know why. You can turn on the news and see a man in a viking hat sitting in the capital.
I walk across the beach and listen to the rocks roll beneath my feet. I feel the rhythm of my son’s day, even when I’m away. I’ve got to hurry home. It’s nap time. I wonder how many people know the feeling of milk letting down in their wetsuit?
Yesterday, a friend from my skate group’s husband took a surf fin to the face. 25 stitches. She’s more upset than he is, so we all send her pictures of Khal Drogo aka Jason Momoa aka hot-eyebrow-scar, and laugh and smile about how sexy he is and how badass the 25 stitch scar will really be someday. We haven’t seen each other in months, but there it is— a quiet warmth.
My other friend said she’s just been watching “trashy TV” and reruns. Last night I watched Kim Kardashian wed Kris Humphries. We’ve gotta lean in to whatever works; whatever brings us comfort.
Scott got me an electric bike for Christmas from Offer-Up. We can’t afford this! I think. I’m scared of it. But instead I say thank you. I hug him. I put my helmet on and ride it around the block. Two weeks later and I ride it everywhere. Look how environmental I am. How did he know this is exactly what I needed? I take the kids for rides and everyone is happy. We’re outside with the world in our tiny rearview mirror, covid-eat shit! A new rhythm.
Maybe this year won’t be our best. It’s definitely not what we were expecting, but maybe there’s something to be said for that too.
