300 Days of Sunshine

I woke up this morning to images of flames engulfing the city where I used to live.  To videos of cops tear gassing innocent people in the streets.  To a story of police arresting a CNN correspondent while the men who murdered George Floyd continued to run free.  I wanted to believe that I was still sleeping and would soon wake up from this terrifying nightmare.  I am riding a rollercoaster of grief, anger, disbelief, disgust, shame and sadness this week, so forgive me for my rambling and grammatical errors.  I think this is a breaking point.  For myself.  For Minnesota.  For our country.   I was working on a post in honor of Black History Month in February, but I never published it.  I couldn't get it right or really say what I wanted to say, and it ended up sounding like a call to reflect on racism for that month only and then resort back to our old ways, which was the direct opposite of the point I was trying to make.  I still don't think I'm getting this right, but I ne

It has been two months since the stay at home order and we're settling into a new normal.  Masks and social distancing have become habit.  Even Ady has adjusted to the reality that her teachers wear masks, the parks are closed, and "going out to eat" means takeout.  It can feel surreal, depressing, and even heartbreaking that this is real life now, but I also feel moved by the adaptability of human nature and the creative ways we connect with others.  I think it has become apparent that this is a marathon, not a sprint.  The road ahead is long and we need to pace ourselves and establish some serenity and comfort.  Here are a few tidbits about life lately: 1.  Hiking: I went hiking on the Chamisa Trail over the weekend.  It was so therapeutic to enjoy nature and the company of friends.  One of the hardest parts about the stay at home order is that my entire existence has revolved around work or parenting, so getting up to the mountains offered a much-needed break and an

As the weeks go on and COVID-19 continues to take its toll, it feels as if death is staring us in the face day after day, while we grapple with redefining our lives.  It has become pretty clear over the past few weeks and months that coronavirus is not the great equalizer, as many had optimistically claimed, nor is it a unifying force, as our country is more divided than ever.  But it does seem inescapable.  Everyone is directly impacted, whether they contract the virus or not.  Everyone's relationships, family dynamics, values, and sense of self have changed.  The way we view ourselves and our place in the world has changed.  Coronavirus has spared no one. Working in healthcare, the atmosphere is tense.  Anxiety is palpable.  There's a sense of impending doom, like we're just waiting for the shoe to drop.  We're pacing ourselves, recognizing that this is a marathon, not a sprint, and this race might just be beginning.  I hear stories and read articles about New York