A little over a year ago Chris and I visited Florence, Italy for a week. When I was doing heavy research into what to see (and more importantly what to wear!) while we were there, I kept running into the phrase, “Marzo è Pazzo.” This phrase translates to “March is crazy.”
In English we have the saying “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb.” Marzo è pazzo means basically the same thing – that the weather in March is highly unpredictable. While snow is unlikely even in the winter in Florence, one can expect any combination of cold, rain, sun, and warm during March. Sort of like northeast Ohio! I fell in love with the phrase – writing it in large print at the top of a page in my travel journal.
Our visit was unforgettable, and the weather was perfect – cool in the morning, warmer at mid-day, cool again at night. There was very little rain, and many clear blue skies. I fell in love with Florence, its people, its art and architecture, its food – every little thing. I decided right then and there that I would take Sam on a trip to Florence to celebrate his college graduation in 2021.
When we started hearing bad things out of Italy earlier this month, my heart sank. Having been there, albeit briefly, I felt a connection to the place that made the soaring infection counts and death toll break my heart. Suddenly “Marzo è pazzo” took on new meaning for me. Yes, this March has truly been crazy, and although the Italian people might just be seeing a tiny light at the end of the tunnel soon, April looks to be crazy as well.
Now more than ever I am committed to taking that trip to Florence with Sam, to eat our fill of pizza, pasta, and steaks bigger than our head, to go on a street art scavenger hunt (they have the BEST street art and graffiti), to stand in awe of Michelangelo’s David, to climb to the top of the Duomo and look out over the city and countryside, and to bask in the warmth and hospitality of the people of Florence once again.
We watched “Interstellar” Saturday night, for probably the third time. If you’ve never seen it, a brief synopsis: on a near-future drought-destroyed Earth, a small handful of astronauts and scientists embark on a long-shot mission to save all of humanity. The thing that makes Interstellar fun, though, is how it plays with the idea of time travel – not actually walking around in the past like Marty McFly in Back to the Future, but subtly leaving clues to our former selves to help them out in some way. I’m a sucker for all time travel stories and alternate reality stories.
While watching the movie, I remembered a Facebook post I made about a year and a half ago:
“I had an “Interstellar” moment this morning. I run a loop around my neighborhood three times each morning. On my second time around this morning, I looked at my first-loop footprints and thought, “a different version of me left those prints, one that had just woken up and was still shaking off sleep. Now I’m on my second lap and I feel awake and tinglingly alive.” I left a message for the future me, who would be finishing up the run in about 14 minutes. It made me smile to write it and smile to encounter it later on. A message from the past. 😊
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about how life can only be lived in this present moment. It is always “today,” always “right now”. So, today is the day I was born, is the day I graduated high school, is the day I gave birth to Sam, is the day I wrote this post, is the day I die. Looking at life this way truly helps me appreciate how precious this moment is, no matter what is happening in it.”
We all just want what is going on now, this global pandemic, to be over – to fast forward 6 weeks, or 8 weeks, or however long it is. To have life be normal again.
I’m grateful to my past self for reminding me that now is all I have, as surreal and scary as it may be sometimes. And I’m grateful for now, to be alive in this moment.
Last summer I was shopping for a dress for a work function. I was in the dressing room of Talbots and there was another woman in there as well, trying on dresses and working with a salesperson. This fellow shopper sounded very friendly and upbeat in her interactions with the salesperson, but when the saleswoman was gone I heard an ugly voice from her side of the dressing room: “You look ridiculous in this dress. You’re so stupid. You always look stupid…” On and on the voice went. At first I thought this pleasant lady was accompanied by an abusive friend or relative. It then dawned on me that she was talking to herself. The realization was so disturbing – I felt that this woman must be mentally ill, and I was so sad for her.
Then I had a second realization. Those words that sounded so crazy and disturbing spoken out loud were not so very far from words I have silently thought about myself when confronted with my reflection on a bad day. Most of us do not go around berating ourselves out loud, but how many of us have looked in the mirror and thought, “Ugh!” or “I’m so fat” or “I look so OLD”? Imagine a loved one trying on a new outfit for you. Would you say any of the above to them? Why do we feel it is acceptable to talk to ourselves this way? Why does love and acceptance flow so freely from us for our loved ones, but is rationed out with Scrooge-like reluctance for ourselves?
The inner critic can be relentless and cruel. Many of our inner critics have found brand new material during this time of sheltering in place. Parents trying to home-school their children have told me they feel like total failures at it. Some people trying to help support local businesses have nevertheless felt guilty about possibly exposing someone delivering a pizza to the virus (in case they are somehow asymptomatic). Was that pizza essential? You can drive yourself mad trying to do the right thing these days, because there is so much that is uncertain and so much that is brand new for us.
I generally expect a lot of myself. Before I really started working remotely and I had a lot of extra time on my hands I made up daily schedules so that I could be productive in other ways. Drying fruit in the dehydrator, writing cards to people, getting a certain amount of writing done each day. And I’ve been hard on myself when maybe my food choices haven’t been the best, or I didn’t get through everything on the to-do list. Now that I am navigating the new world of accessing my workplace remotely, working within a narrow window of time each day because we are all sharing computers, it could be so easy to be disappointed with myself for getting behind in my work, or taking “too long” to catch on to a new process we are using.
Enough.
Let’s drown out the inner critic with a quiet, persistent gentleness for ourselves.
Put “take a nap” on your to-do list, and give yourself a smiley sticker when you’ve accomplished that goal. Are your kids healthy, well fed, reasonably happy? High fives all around. They can make their life-sized diorama of the Hadron Collider when this is all over.
One of my favorite types of meditation is called Loving-Kindness, or Metta, meditation. I will discuss my meditation practice and the reasons why I meditate (including what science is showing about what happens to our brains when we meditate) in another post, but today I want to share with you a common mantra in Loving-Kindness meditation that I think is very appropriate for the times we find ourselves in right now:
“May you be safe. May you be healthy. May you be happy. May you live with ease.”
The next time you look in the mirror, treat yourself to some loving-kindness. You deserve it.
Michelle xoxo
P.S. If you’re curious about Loving-Kindness meditation, try this meditation guided by Sharon Salzberg, one of the giants in the world of meditation instruction.
This is Remy. Isn’t he adorable?
Remy came into my life over six years ago.
When I was diagnosed with cancer in early 2014, I let my Facebook friends know what was going on in my life. Everyone is different when it comes to sharing news like that – several people I know have kept that news more private, but I weighed privacy with the support that I knew I would receive and decided on disclosure. The results were mixed (one high school friend called me up pretty much to tell me how afraid she was of getting breast cancer because her mother died of breast cancer), but I don’t regret it.
Enter Remy. He arrived in an Amazon box one day with no note inside saying who he was from. A mystery! That in itself is delightful. Eventually we found out that my Facebook friend (we’ve never met in person) Liz sent him to me to comfort me while I was going through treatment. I named him Remy because I knew his presence in my life would feel very healing – I shortened the word “remedy” to “Remy.”
Remy is super soft on the outside and filled with buckwheat hulls on the inside, so you can microwave him and use him the way you would a hot water bottle, or you can put him in the fridge or freezer and use him if you need a cold compress. I know, poor Remy! He really takes it for the team.
He used to be lavender-scented, but that wore off a few years ago. He’s also looking a little worse for the wear. I could insert a quote from The Velveteen Rabbit here, but I will save you from that!
I can’t tell you just how much comfort this little guy has brought me over the years. There’s just something about being warmed when you’re feeling cold – think roaring fire, bowl of soup, cup of tea, hot water bottle, heated blanket – that makes you feel like a small child again, in the best possible way.
xoxo
Today was a funny old day. I had a doctor’s appointment at 8:45 (no, not coronavirus-related) and an over-the-phone lesson in how to remote into one of the work computers we’ll be sharing. After a late breakfast there was a conference call for our department in which we were told what we need to accomplish in the three hour window we are all being given each day. I must say I’m glad to be getting back to work. It will be a challenge – for one thing, in my cubicle at work I have three computer monitors and could easily use a fourth because we all need to have multiple windows open all the time. For the next few weeks I will be using my laptop. It’s going to get crowded!
Speaking of crowded, Sam and I went for a walk this afternoon, an idea that must have struck half of the neighborhood and surrounding neighborhoods at the same time. Definitely an exercise in serpentine evasive maneuvers!
Nature was putting on a lovely albeit quiet show along the way. I tried to really focus on the subtle changes around me. The trees are starting to bud out, crocuses and daffodils are blooming. The forsythia can’t be far behind. I’m finding that when I’m feeling frazzled (which is more often during this pandemic than usual) focusing on the beauty of the world around me helps smooth out the rough edges.
Love,
Michelle xoxo
Sam and I went for our usual evening walk tonight and the sky was so lovely. I just knew it would be a good sunset today – I’ve learned that what differentiates a “blah” sunset from a stunning sunset is the quality of the clouds in the sky. Wispy clouds are best, apparently. These photos don’t do tonight’s sunset justice – trust me, it was gorgeous. And I wanted so much to be able to go to our sunset park to view it, but I knew that watching the sunset from the ledges at the park was not an “essential” outing. But, gosh, it sure felt essential tonight.
xoxo
And remember this house?
Out front this morning:
We are hunkering down here – coffee machine coffee, puzzles, the start of online classes for Sam now that the weirdest Spring Break ever is over. Chris is composing in his studio, as usual. It still feels so surreal, and I’m not used to this “new normal” – will most likely never get used to it, but spirits are moderately high (thanks to lots of fresh air and walks). Actually, I can’t honestly say spirits are moderately high. Let’s say, spirits are moderately moderate and hanging in there. I hope you are hanging in there, too, being gentle with yourself, and staying healthy.
Love,
Michelle xoxo
Can you guess which one made me cry?
See you tomorrow, friends! xoxo
In anticipation of the “Stay at Home” order which takes effect tonight at 11:59, I popped over to our local crafting store, JoAnn’s Fabrics, this morning. I have a couple projects I’m working on (which I’ll reveal here sometime this week, hopefully) and I needed some supplies. JoAnn’s is a national chain that just happens to have its headquarters, and a large flagship store, in the town where I live.
As I was roaming the aisles, maintaining a 6-foot bubble of protection around me, I heard a couple of women talking to one of the employees about a project they each happened to be working on. When the employee mentioned, “This much fabric should be enough to make 30 masks,” it dawned on me. The customers were preparing to sew surgical masks to help local hospitals.
I knew about this movement, started in response to the dangerously low supplies of personal protective equipment in many of this country’s major hospitals. Volunteers across the country are sewing masks, sharing patterns, and posting tutorials on YouTube. On JoAnn Fabric’s website there is a page dedicated to supporting this volunteer effort.
Even though I knew this sort of thing was going on, actually seeing people buying the fabric for their face mask projects choked me up. Seeing the goodness of these people and their eagerness to help during this scary time just made me feel like the Grinch when his heart grows three sizes.
Which brings us to my next stop this morning – Open Door Coffee. We’ve been buying carryout coffee at Open Door ever since governor DeWine’s order that closed all Ohio bars and restaurants to in-house customers (which seems like ages ago but was only 8 days ago), in an effort to help support our favorite local business. Deborah (the owner) and her crew of exceptional young people have been so good to us over the years. As I approached the front door, I saw the sign below and my heart sunk:
Inside, I asked a solemn-looking Deborah what was going on. I knew that under the provisions of the Stay at Home order Open Door could continue operating for take out. Deborah said that even though she could technically stay open for the duration of the order, she didn’t feel that she could adequately protect her employees. She said, “It’s a decision that makes my stomach hurt, but I know it’s the right thing to do.” Sigh.
When I left my house this morning for these two errands, I had no idea what was in store for me – compelling evidence that although there still may be people hoarding and fights over toilet paper in grocery stores, there are many more people out there quietly doing the best that they can.
Be safe out there, friends. xoxo