Each Day

“Today felt better than all the other ones,” I said to Samuel, then remembered starting the day with an extra dose of CBD oil. It seemed a good idea due to the anxiety bubbling in my belly that is in addition to the usual daily challenges with it.

Normally a full dropper is taken at night before laying down in bed, under the tongue for five minutes before swallowing. It is a helpful habit to keep until safer days arrive. It may also help with sudden wakings due to an increase of nightmares. We gut laughed during a TV show. It has been weeks since laughing like that. 

Interestingly, food cravings stabilized almost immediately with the additional dose, meals becoming healthier frosted with a greater capacity to connect with my body. 

The current of anxiety thrumming deep down has vibrated constantly since the crisis began, rising as it crept closer and closer finally arriving within the community. Waves of apprehension heighten during news reports. That gratefully lessens while outdoors. Bird songs, fresh air breathed in fully, and the current of the creek meandering by comfort the ragged edges.

A beaver appeared, then a weasel slipped in and out by the bank where it made holes in the mud looking for roots to eat. A fox appeared only yards away. The wild gardens are full up with snow-drops with many bulbs popping up growing taller each day. Yellowy jonquils are almost ready to open, my term for them ‘miniature daffodils.’ The majesty of solitude, peace, and quiet smooths away unease offering respite. 

Meditation helps to settle my core, concern rising again during news reports, feeling the buzz as it erupts internally. The draw for the most current news has reduced feeling assured we are doing all that can be done to protect ourselves and others by self-isolating. 

The jerk of a president refutes the numbers of ventilators desperately required en mass, choosing instead to let the older population die. He bizarrely talks of filling up churches by Easter relaxing social distancing before the pandemic has hardly even approached it’s peak.

It is more of the same lunacy. Networks don’t broadcast his long-winded reports anymore which are full of lies interspersed with self congratulatory propaganda.



Feelings Need Comfort

photo by Patricia

Listening to news brings deep vibrations of fear coupled with anxiety. Maybe not watching would relieve it, yet every scrap is consumed needing to know, be prepared, and to be preventative. Like a moth to flame, or to safe ground?

Trying not to feel what is there doesn’t work only pushing me to old habits of stuffing my body with unwanted food, no longer an escape that helps much. Causing great dis-ease instead, intensifying fears because now my own actions are causing harm. And it is a very big clue that emotions need tending to with care, gentleness and compassion.

So feel the feelings. Oh that. Yes, feel it. These feelings don’t run through dissipating like others moving on to the next issue. These rumble on as the emergency heightens.

So continue with the things that keep my body strong and healthy. Meditation. Time in nature with the relaxing repose by the creek after lap 5, healthy nutrition, sleep, and past-times that unwind stressed nerves.


The Breath

photo by Patricia

Staying in my body, attuned to the breath, and doing things with as much attention as possible. The tiny things that once brought pleasure, still can; the sparkle of the twirling glass beads sending prisms dancing on the wall. The cat’s antics as she races around the house spinning in place because her paws can’t find traction.

The fear in my belly subsides after doing all that can be done to keep us safe, but going out into the world whips up the alarm bells keeping sleep at bay. Holding a sign through the window, the Walmart grocery worker nods then loads up the trunk waving when done.

Returning home a quandary exists. How long to leave out non-perishables before the virus dies on its own. Spraying the cold and freezer foods, the bathroom spray not drying on the products so it drips as it’s loaded into the refrigerator.

On-line it says this virus can live frozen for 2 years.

“You sprayed it,” Samuel responds to my worried announcement reading it aloud.

But the worries upset an already fragile nervous system keeping me awake. Anxiety thrums universally throughout the world, in most of those aware of the reality. Some choose not to know. For most there is a level of fear present.

Do what can be done. Seclude from the public, go to the store only when necessary, then try to go on. A tear rolls down my cheek listening to the news as a sound man from one of the major channels dies from the virus. He was much younger than me. Eyes water hearing several area nursing home come up with a positive result. The thought of the elderly, or myself, dying alone scared because no can visit rolls through my mind vividly. 

Reports of people lying in hospital hallways in Spain. Our leader is not taking care of us, and those images could soon be happening here in our country. It is dreadful that health care workers do not have what they need. It is hard enough without that problem. With a country that is supposedly as great as ours, how could this be?

It is so because we have a leader disconnected to reality consumed with himself.

Powerless to stop him, life can still be lived in each precious moment. Breathe, breathe deeply and long. We sit on the patio in the sun for a long time absorbing the heat, relaxing to my core. Full relaxation is a powerful friend to the immune system. Seek it out in whatever way it can be found. 



The doofus in power using it to control, lie, manipulate, and corrupt, even fooled the evening news anchor into saying he was using his power to order factories to produce ventilators. He hasn’t (and won’t until it is too late.)

The facts are hard to find out of a mouth of a liar, but my experience with liars goes deeper than Lester Holt’s. My upbringing was in a group of liars all making sure that the truth of my deepest traumas remain locked inside of my little girl body even as it grew into womanhood… even now.

Lie to keep others comfortable even if it means being untrue to myself, never knowing myself which would allow for self-compassion and self-love.

It has taken decades to begin that miracle, one that would usually thrive from a nurturing childhood. The two eldest siblings expect as much, abhorred when or if the truth is ever spoken.

My interaction with both, though they live in the city nearby, is nil. Comfort is not found in liars. And when Trumpy opens his mouth he is lying. Like a teenager, as Dr. Phil said.

“Do you know when a teenager is lying?” he asks, adding, “When they open their mouths.

He is so good at it even Lester got it wrong.

Cuomo says that we are in a war and that ventilators are our missiles. Yet the doofus Trumpy lacks the character to do what needs to be done. We need them in masses with a direct order to produce them,  and then using that power to direct where they go. Yet he doesn’t bother, choosing instead to let companies do it voluntarily.

Lies, lies, lies. He gives the impression that tens of thousands are on their way. They are not. He washes his hands of anything that might interfere with his businesses once he is no longer president. His needs, his money, his everything. 

The Donald scathingly rips up the best reporters when they ask a question he does not like. This is America. Did anyone tell him that?

Please god get rid of this dangerous doofus.


Social distancing is not hard for me as it is already the case to protect my internal workings from being overwhelmed with stimuli. What’s hard is the fear added to the everyday anxiety faced, but that too is manageable.

My biggest concern is our health care workers, and the shortage of protective gear, along with ventilators which there is grievous shortage of. That combined with a double talker of a president who pontificates about it one way, tricking me with hope, but not doing what he eludes to.

He and his cronies can be counted on for one thing, lying with an equal ability to  manipulate. Yesterday’s noon news conference turned into poor me as Trumpie went on about fake news that made him look bad. He manages to turn everything into something about himself. Bobble head Pence nods behind him in agreement as always. Once a narcissist always a narcissist.

He surrounds himself with lapdogs with no experience, or knowledge. What they offer is allegiance, not to the country, but to their owner, drooling for acceptance, selling themselves as pets as they pat him on the back over and over.

Trumpie’s own hand pats himself so much I lost count of how many times he said everything’s great, and he is great. He is the world leader at overcoming the corona virus, didn’t you know? If you didn’t, he will tell you. I fell for it needing reassurance so much I believed his lies. I ought to know better.  

He has not begun the process of converting factories into producers of ventilators. Hospitals are not receiving help to expand their resources. Rather he bails out his rich friends in the airlines, airlines that can shut down, lay off workers, and take out loans just like the small businesses are expected to do.

He talks the talks as if the most urgent needs are being met, acknowledging the need for ventilators, but then says, we’ll wait and see. That is what stresses my heart like a fist squeezing it in a vise. Breathe, breathe.

“I don’t think about what I can’t control,” Samuel says after some thought.

We sit together by the creek on the first day of spring. The day is warm and balmy with birds that migrated home tweeting happy songs. A few yellow flowers dappled the otherwise drab meadow, evidence that soon an explosion of life will occur. 

“You’re lucky,” I respond, a tear squeezing out thinking of all the people needing care but possibly shuffled out into halls or parking lots on stretchers in the near future. 

There is some truth to Samuel’s way of coping. He is right. Taking measures to protect the two of us is quite overwhelming. I had started leaving packages outside for a day or two. Also spraying mail with disinfectant leaving it on the bench a few hours before touching it,  feeling a little silly doing it.

Then the news explains that it necessary to leave packages outside for a day before opening. Then throw away the package, wash hands, and spray where it sat with disinfectant.

Food being delivered should be dropped at the door avoiding face to face contact. Remove from packages, put in your own bowls, and microwave it. Throw out all packaging, and wash hands. If you think you’re doing too much, you are probably not doing enough. 

I wonder how many are not able to do these things as they are still required to report to work, or just haven’t digested the seriousness of this. That would be understandable as we have not encountered such levels of isolation and protective measures in our lifetime.




The living room in disarray while Samuel continues painting doesn’t help calm the disquiet revolving inside. Even the cat raced around throughout the day like a mini-Road Runner from the cartoon, her antics matching my feelings.

After emailing friends about bowing out of our gatherings the next two months, a feeling of abandonment coupled with loneliness lay bare like a dry field; even though it was my choice, and being at home is where most of my time is spent anyway.

The thought of imposed isolation felt suffocating as if jailed. Then prayers, thoughts of others, feelings for those world-wide also experiencing fear and uncertainty. Families in our area scramble for day-care because all schools were closed over the weekend until further notice. These same families must work which means continued risk of exposure out in public.

My friends, and many others, continue socializing including church services today. That is foolhardy. Services can be conducted safely on-line. Why wait for someone to test positive in our direct area to shut down? By then it is too late.

Prayers. Prayers to the health care workers, keep them safe. Prayers for our officials making decisions… may they be guided with wisdom. Prayers to those with compromised immune systems, and the elderly (which includes me), but especially those with other health problems. Prayers for those hospitalized because loved ones cannot visit. May they find comfort. Prayers for us all world-wide.


It couldn’t be true that fear lay in my belly. Cocooned in our little home, my belief is I’m above becoming terrified of an arriving virus. Yet why suddenly had eating without hunger become all consuming? There is usually a reason, especially after all was going so well.

The robotic state of constant numbness from overeating returns instantly when fear seeps in. You’re making excuses, the harsh voice whips. Am I? Could it be terror? Yes, terror. Never far away especially when feelings of victim-hood, helplessness, or powerlessness visit.

Eating it away doesn’t make it go away, only boxes it in wrapped with self-hate. I can do without the hate. Only with compassion can the terror be unearthed, real terror that feels shameful as if it is something to hide.

But on the news the influx of others seeking therapeutic assistance has increased greatly, even if virtually on-line for safety reasons. Those with anxiety or depression issues are hit especially hard. Duh.

It is with compassion that acceptance of real feelings and my whole self occurs. That’s missing when the eating machine emerges. Food was, and is, the bank vault locking in terror tightly so that daytime life can go on. Not good sustenance at all, just a habit since age 8, a survival tool that hinders my health and well-being.

As a child that was what mother insisted. Go on as if nothing happened Love your brothers, wolves in sheep’s clothing, monsters who look human. Nighttime terror locked in daily with food, the one thing she gave freely.

Identifying the terror is the first step. Then do all that you can to protect yourself, especially while out in public which is very little except picking up groceries and other items. Even that is being curbed as much as possible. My friends continue church services, and attendance in chorale and other groups. Which is why I am not going to attend our upcoming monthly gathering, or the next month’s.

As one not involved in group things, seeing them exposes me to their perspective groups of people. Each of their families, kids, and grand-kids, and all the separate churches because each belongs to a different church. So our little gathering of 5 exposes me to a much greater population.

At the risk of anyone saying I’m overdoing it, feeling safe needs focus and respect. I’m worthy of listening to my own rationale as an intelligent person, not going along with others because they know best, or because getting together doesn’t worry them.

It worries me. They don’t know what’s best for me, only I do. The hammerings of  negatives in my head are not coming from others, only me. Just say no, and know you are doing the right thing. 

Do what can be done to protect myself. Accept that terror is there which helps lessen it. Come back into myself, into each moment, feeling the new thick carpet under my bare feet in the bedroom. The sparkle from hanging gems sending prisms dancing on the wall as the sun sets, an orange orb that dazzles my eyes with brilliance

Come back to this precious moment. Each one comes never to come again. Be here now.