PARALYSIS

It's hard to know what to do or say during these uncertain and unprecedented times. "It's going to be okay," "we will weather this storm," "have faith," "wash your hands," "stay inside." Seems like no matter what we feel, it all comes down to fear. I feel it for sure. In more aspects than I can count and more so as the days pass without solution. I fear for the fate of the world; for what and who so many will lose. I fear for the global economy; the loss of human connection; for DEhumanization; the rejection of empathy. I fear loss of normalcy; sanity. But most of all, I fear failure. And saying we mustn't fear feels hypocritical because as a parent the fear of failing to protect what is most beloved to me is all-consuming.

As my youngest child came in to my bedroom tonight for the fifth time since I put him to bed, he said he couldn't fall asleep because when he closed his eyes all he could see were people dying. I want to believe it's a stall tactic; I want to believe it's an unrelated common nightmare; I want to blame video game violence. I want to believe that my children are shielded from this pandemic panic and the wave of fear that is coursing through most of us so all I can say to him is, "Don't worry love. It will all be okay. Mommy will protect you." But the truth is that I can't. Not really. Not when every contact feels like a threat. And for a person who fears next to nothing, that vulnerability is paralyzing.

For now, this seemingly unstoppable virus will be this generation's 9/11. They'll remember it. We all will. So, I don't know what to say or do. All I know to do is to keep fighting for bravery, strength and courage' All I know to say is that together we WILL come out stronger. And all I can offer is my calm, even if within me at times it most often feels dishonest. I can offer prayers for his protection; for the health and safety of my other two children; for my friends and family. . .for everyone.

PRODIGAL RETURN

At the back end of 2014 many of my friends at the time felt strongly that I was meant to write a blog. Basing this "destiny" on the fact that my undergraduate degree was in journalism and that I have always referred to writing as "my first love," I started one. My first post was January 2, 2015.

What my friends wanted me to write about was fashion, and design; interiors, travel, how to "look put together" when traveling; what patterns and textiles go together in your home; whose style was "best" at the Golden Globes and so on and so on. And for a while, I did that. But it didn't take too long for the steam to run out because writing about those things (and I'm not saying that I won't again) isn't what inspired me and for anyone that is a writer, you surely know that when there is no inspiration, there are no words. And so Tenacious E died.

Fast forward to today, March 22, 2020. I still write. A little more privately in my journal, however. Sometimes I write on the back of wrinkled receipts, on scraps of paper; on the palm of my hand or forearm; on the Notes app in my phone. . . Sometimes, in moments of self reflection, I simply record voice notes on what I am feeling, whether it be difficult, sad, or joyful. . .and there in the audios, when I'm processing emotion or pain, that is where I find true inspiration. I find it in hearing my own voice - the trembles and cracks of expression; the pauses and gasps between tears that breaks my own heart. It's raw and real and personal. And it made me wonder: what if I didn't write about who wore what best? What if I didn't write about interiors or fashion? What if I wrote from the heart? What if I allowed myself to be present and vulnerable to experiences that I KNOW are not solely my own? What would happen? The answer was simple: nothing. Perhaps not a single soul would read these words but at least it would be ME. Terrifying. It could open doors not only to my innermost thoughts but also to criticism and judgment but it would be authentic and that has always been my Northstar. So, I don't know what will happen but maybe that's why I'm here again, because you always return and because you never really forget your first love, do you?