“INSOMNIA
The moon in the bureau mirror
looks out a million miles
(and perhaps with pride, at herself,
but she never, never smiles)
far and away beyond sleep, or
perhaps she’s a daytime sleeper.
By the Universe deserted,
she’d tell it to go to hell,
and she’d find a body of water,
or a mirror, on which to dwell.
So wrap up care in a cobweb
and drop it down the well
into that world inverted
where left is always right,
where the shadows are really the body,
where we stay awake all night,
where the heavens are shallow as the sea
is now deep, and you love me. ”
This is one of my favorite Elizabeth Bishop poems. One I have had committed to memory since I first discovered it. I used to repeat it over and over in my head until it lost all it’s meaning as I marched the streets of Brooklyn with my colicky newborn. The streets I loved and had felt like mine for years, were suddenly unfamiliar through the eyes of this new parent. Estranged from all my old haunts, I felt like a boring relic from another time. Apparently, I was defined by the bars and clubs I frequented and the company I kept. These elements of my life represented the careless youth I believed I embodied (at 36!). I was lost without them.
Elizabeth Bishop in Brazil, 1954.
I have fallen back into my incessant recitation of “Insomnia”. Uncanny how it fits my current mood. It’s like an old tic; comforting for the same reasons it was then but now I feel less isolated by the knowledge that the whole world is tossing and turning at night. Recently, to remedy this, I secured myself a medical marijuana card. If your state is so hospitable, I highly recommend it. This has worked wonders for my restless nights.
But beyond the nights, my days are spent missing my parents… Feeling extreme sadness for those who have lost people and for those we will lose in the coming days and months… I mourn my old life… And I worry about what the world will look like on the other side of this. I imagine every darkened restaurant, gallery, and bar from here to Tokyo. I am not able to shield my feelings from my children. I cry if anyone walking past us with a mask gives us the peace sign. I think of every grandparent from here to the smallest village in Italy united in the very specific emotion of missing their grandchildren at this very moment. Is that the definition of global consciousness?
I’m not sure how you are holding on to sanity but we are in a constant state of “by a thread”. Every day my husband and I turn to each other and say, “That was a close one…”. This does not seem sustainable, does it? But it just might have to be. We are adaptable creatures, after all.
Our 1.5 year old and (almost) 5 year old are perpetually in conflict; pushing, screaming, hitting. It takes two of us, one parent per child, at all times. This is not a glamours time for families. Or anyone. This is not a time of peace and productivity. This is a time to dig deep and, by whatever means necessary, keep hanging on by a thread. In my darkest moments I let myself drift into elaborate fantasies about what I would do to (temporarily) suspend reality and have my children disappear through this period of quarantine. Give up the use of my right arm?… Yes. Chew it off with my teeth?… Maybe.
This is what kept me sane today:
8:30 am - Walk.
9:30 am - Big bowl of spicy chili with melted cheese.
Our bar for “school” is super low and consists of exactly two things:
10 am - Circle time. We say good morning to each other, read a poem, listen to an author read a story, and do one movement activity. By 10:30 it is time for a snack.
11:15 am - I get the first hour of the baby’s nap to myself and then take over our older kid till 1pm so my husband has some time (sometimes this works sometimes it does not).
Noon-ish - I do an online literacy game with my son and maybe a worksheet. If it lasts 15-20 minutes, it’s a success (no presh!).
Then it’s recess and Mo Willams doodles until audio book / screen time, dinner time / cocktail time (a classic vodka tonic, but I’d like to step up our game after being inspired by the NYT article Why Cocktail Hour is Back ) , and the most important and treasured BED TIME. Oh how I love my bed. What are you doing? How do you make Friday seem special? What can a super (super) sensitive 5 year old watch that isn’t Tumble Leaf or Pooh’s Grand Adventure?
Also important to note: We scrapped stir-fry for dinner and replaced it with Cacio e Pepe… for maybe the fifth time because this is what the world needs right now.
I know we have it pretty good. We are both here, we do not have to be properly homeschooling, our youngest kid still naps, and we live in a less populous state. However, my husband’s work went away and we do not know when the world of production will be back up and running. So we worry about our house, money, the stress on our kids, and the potential of a loved one getting sick. So many of us are united in these stressors at this singular moment in time. But we do not have much control over them, so we will just have to figure it out and let the rest go. Which is my motto these days, “What I cannot control, I won’t worry about.”
I don’t know, what do people need to hear right now? What do I need right now? We are all reading the same news and driving ourselves crazy with it so I don’t need to reiterate any of the information that has proliferated and terrified the internet of late (I mean THE DAILY! Still trembling). I find comfort in asking how my friends got through the day. As long as it doesn’t include ambitions kids crafts with perfect children who sit still for more than 5 minutes on your families10 acre property…. if it is I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR ABOUT IT! I cannot be clearer. I mean, read the room.
It felt good just letting this happen and not caring anymore…
Stay safe and healthy out there. Missing all of our people so much. xxoo