More Clear Spaces Ahead

Monday was the two-year anniversary of Winks of Goodness. Instead of posting on the actual day, I’m posting a couple of days later just to keep the unpredictability of 2020 going.

            Like everyone else I was so looking forward to 2020. It was the beginning of a new decade, it was cool to say and we all jumped at the 20/20 vision clichés. For me, being four months out from my mother’s death, a new year was precisely what was needed. I made resolutions and lists. I got a new haircut. I even rearranged my home office. I was ready to embrace the changes in my life and move forward. (Remember how “forward” was my word for the year?)

            Well, 2020 certainly delivered change, but in no way, shape or form how I imagined it would. Sure, it began normal enough with our family jumping up and down in the living room as the ball dropped in New York City. It was the first time The Tots stayed up until midnight on New Year’s Eve, and we were certain this year would be better than 2019. And for a couple months, we were good. We enjoyed a quick jaunt to the mountains, I got off to a good start with my new gig and The Tots finished their first basketball season.

Then the lights went out. 

            Within days we were thrown into a new normal that was beyond anything I could have made up. My kids weren’t physically going to school anymore. My husband, who has never been allowed to work from home, was suddenly commandeering our dining room table with his laptop. And I was exercising on our sidewalk by myself instead of sweating with my tribe at the Y. A new stage was set, and I had no idea how to predict what was coming next — neither did anyone else. 

            But things kept coming. Whether misfortune struck my family and friends or our nation and world, it was there at every turn. Just as jewel thieves have to maneuver through a spider web of lasers to get their prize, I carefully stepped through 2020 each day hoping to claim patches of peace. And the best Wink of all is that I found it in the clear spaces that weren’t defined by death, diagnosis or disaster. 

            Serenity came to me while reading on my back stoop, listening to a favorite song or taking an extra walk. While those sound like stress tips you’d read about in a magazine (they are), I also found moments of calm by sitting with my coffee a few minutes longer in the morning, feeling the sun on my face or gazing at the moon through the trees. These spaces of stillness would have been ignored during a regular year, but 2020 was anything but that. 

            This bitch of a year taught me so many things, but relishing the tiny, ordinary moments in between the life-changing ones is my biggest takeaway. The more I did it, the more it soothed me and the more it became habit. Basking in these simple moments recharged me so that I could handle the next phone call, text or e-mail bearing bad news. 

             Though 2020 tried its best, it didn’t cloud all of the clear spaces. They’re still there to bring us comfort and joy, and there are plenty more waiting in the year ahead. So with the strength you have left, take in all that’s around you and stand up to welcome 2021. We’re going to be okay.  

            Happy anniversary to Winks and Happy New Year to you!