It’s March 15, and it’s one year and two days since the fateful day when the world shut down on 3/13/20.
There really are so many things to be grateful for now:
- It’s getting warmer, and I’ve actually gotten sunburned already.
- Wonderful tennis clients, and so many bright, curious, compassionate PVCC students.
- Out of season practice with high school team, and seeing players again.
- Spring, which brings my birthday, and Passover, and rebirth and renewal.
- Vaccinations, and more people getting shots.
- My grandson Eli who was born on 3/13/20 just turned one years old!
And I am grateful for these things. I used to dream about some of these things. Wish for the day when life would change or move in a different direction. Wish that we might see a light at the end of the pandemic tunnel. And if you told me all these things a year ago, I would have said heck yeah, bring THAT on.
So why don’t I feel better yet? Why do I still feel this big heavy cloud hanging over me sometimes?
It must be the covid freeze. Or at least that’s what I call it. Being on high alert for so long has chilled my reserves and made me feel frozen in time.
Fast forward one month to April…others are now talking about it as a fog, or as languishing (check out Adam Grant’s NY Times article), cortisol overload, or so many other things. It feels weird, but I can now tell that the freeze is slowly thawing. Each day is like another cube melting, and I’m feeling even more grateful for all of it.
