Living life in a paused world
"Contentedly adrift in the cosmos. That is a perfect description of a non-epiphany, that rarest of moments, when God Almighty lets go of the scruff of your neck and lets you be human for a little while. How long did the feeling last?" – Kurt Vonnegut, Bluebeard
At 7 am I begin my day by watering the four tiny pots I planted with zero expectation. My last three attempts at gardening were met with appalling results.
(History: one wilted, one got in the way of a hot-headed pigeon who kicked it away and the third fell into the hands of my ignorant cook who thought I had stored excess mud in it.)
My new plants have grown bright and shiny leaves and are thriving in
- bright sunlight,
- away from direct sun,
- in optimum moisture conditions.
The three points I've picked up from 19 different plant bloggers (YES THEY EXISTS).
At 11 am I begin chopping vegetables for lunch. By 12 pm I'm done cooking and ready for a daily dose of Arrested Development.
My post-lunch siesta has been replaced by "art and craft hobbies" where I stitch till my neck hurts, which usually happens about 2 hours later.
I indulge in deeply fulfilling, sanguine activities that don't require human interaction. I didn't imagine I would be following an endless schedule of what Kurt Vonnegut calls "non-epiphanies" in March 2020. I had none of the above skills in the pre-Corona world.
And yet I often feel I should have done more. I should have "up-skilled" for better job prospects, I could have read for a couple of hours more to become worldly wise, I could have started freelancing!
My internet habits have undergone a beauty transformation that Jassi couldn't. My Instagram feed has transformed from food, cat and lifestyle blogger videos to indoor plants, art and book posts. No up-skilling could beat the accomplishment of creating a new embroidered piece from nothing. LinkedIn is where I go to see which CEO is tone-deafer than the next and Twitter is where I balance all the post-Corona positivity that I've struggled so hard to achieve with the misery in the world.
The internet can be as cruel as you want it to be or as wholesome as you'd like it to be. It only matters where you're looking. When the powers that be grab my neck again I'd like to remember this phase as a peek into a seemingly placid world that's radiant and deeply gratifying. There's no longer a dead end. All I have to do is take a U-turn and enter the leafy suburbs of life where every day is a reward unto itself.
At 7 am I begin my day by watering the four tiny pots I planted with zero expectation. My last three attempts at gardening were met with appalling results.
(History: one wilted, one got in the way of a hot-headed pigeon who kicked it away and the third fell into the hands of my ignorant cook who thought I had stored excess mud in it.)
My new plants have grown bright and shiny leaves and are thriving in
- bright sunlight,
- away from direct sun,
- in optimum moisture conditions.
The three points I've picked up from 19 different plant bloggers (YES THEY EXISTS).
At 11 am I begin chopping vegetables for lunch. By 12 pm I'm done cooking and ready for a daily dose of Arrested Development.
My post-lunch siesta has been replaced by "art and craft hobbies" where I stitch till my neck hurts, which usually happens about 2 hours later.
I indulge in deeply fulfilling, sanguine activities that don't require human interaction. I didn't imagine I would be following an endless schedule of what Kurt Vonnegut calls "non-epiphanies" in March 2020. I had none of the above skills in the pre-Corona world.
And yet I often feel I should have done more. I should have "up-skilled" for better job prospects, I could have read for a couple of hours more to become worldly wise, I could have started freelancing!
My internet habits have undergone a beauty transformation that Jassi couldn't. My Instagram feed has transformed from food, cat and lifestyle blogger videos to indoor plants, art and book posts. No up-skilling could beat the accomplishment of creating a new embroidered piece from nothing. LinkedIn is where I go to see which CEO is tone-deafer than the next and Twitter is where I balance all the post-Corona positivity that I've struggled so hard to achieve with the misery in the world.
The internet can be as cruel as you want it to be or as wholesome as you'd like it to be. It only matters where you're looking. When the powers that be grab my neck again I'd like to remember this phase as a peek into a seemingly placid world that's radiant and deeply gratifying. There's no longer a dead end. All I have to do is take a U-turn and enter the leafy suburbs of life where every day is a reward unto itself.
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