I don't know about you, but this one-year anniversary of the pandemic has my brain reeling a bit. Every day feels like groundhog day. I wake up, I write for about 30 minutes, I have the same breakfast I have every day, I write or read for an hour, I walk for 90 minutes-2 hours, and then I either teach for 3-6 hours, stream, or continue writing. Around 8 or 9pm I pour myself a drink (depending on when I finish my other work) and read more or prep a bath and think of a movie I'd like to watch.
I am the same person as I perform these daily tasks, and then I'm not. Some days I feel great while I am productive and focused. Other days I am melancholy or depressed and I struggle to force a smile during a Zoom call. I've always struggled with mental health, but this particular landmark feels heavy. (It doesn't help that mother nature gave me 2 days of beautiful weather and replaced them with another grey-sky'd snowfall.)
Anyhoo. I keep to my usual schedule because of that article about the astronaut swearing by routine as a means to sanity when you're stuck somewhere. It's been helpful, but then again, I didn't sign up to be an astronaut. I'm an artist, and I need color, light, travel, exorbitant clothing and music...I need travel. It's hard to be happy when the things you're thirsty for are unavailable at best and unsafe at worst.
John and I just finished our daily walk, in which we discussed how much we miss live music. It felt more poignant than usual. Perhaps it's that one year mark. Perhaps my consciousness is finally catching up with my starving brain.
I grew up Catholic, and an important Catholic season is Lent, a preparation period before Easter. It's meant to be a reminder of Jesus' 40 days in the desert without food or water. The ritual is a 40-day period where you give something up in order to celebrate Jesus' resurrection and experience the sweetness of new life.
Unfortunately, I am no longer blissfully subscribed to religion, but I am thinking about that yearly practice. I used to give up sweets, and on Easter morning, upon finding my basket somewhere hidden cleverly in our home, I found myself without a craving for most of the treats it held. This was my experience with being vegetarian for 8 years and vegan for 2: I lost the taste of meat. But Lent is only 40 days, and after a year of no live music, I am still dying to experience it.
Of course, the body has needs and inclinations, but I think our brains and souls need more. I hope that, once we get to the other side of COVID-era, we will have more fulfilling and ecstatic experiences at an abundance of concerts than we ever have.
Paws crossed that Riot Fest happens this year. Good god. I remember finally accepting that it wouldn't happen in 2020. Riot Fest is as close as I'll get back to religion...a sort of place and time that makes me feel otherworldly. I'd give anything to be able to go this year. More on that later, though.
Until tomorrow, stay well, stay safe, and stay kind.