My Last Day of Isolation. (The seeming joy of a breakthrough infection.)

When I woke up last Sunday with my chest completely tight after a night where my joints were on fire and I tossed and turned in absolute discomfort which was after having dinner with my husband and feeling like I had been on a Florida shore with no sunblock all day, the first thing on my mind was getting a COVID test.

There was only one other time I thought about getting a COVID test. It was summer of 2020 and we were packing up the house in Bellingham to move the kids, cats, furniture and new husband to Saint Louis. I remember feeling really nervous about getting a test and screwing up our logistics. I had a few days to see about myself, never broke a fever, ended up feeling fine and we kept our plans.

Now, here in the fall of 2021, I was fully vaccinated and definitely sick. One pink and blue stripe later, we were masking in the house, I was isolated to the master bedroom and bathroom and the psychology of being sick with mild symptoms, fine but not fine, and overall figuring out how to handle being excluded when “baby, but you’re in isolation – you have to be excluded” (to use David’s words) was playing out.

I wasn’t sick enough to be nursed, cooked for and cleaned for. I wasn’t well enough to cook and clean without feeling absolutely frustrated (both of those things are really less fun in a mask). I had enough energy to start walking the dogs, but would get out of breath and want to lay down. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t know what to expect others to do for me. But I knew the answer to both of those conundrums was somewhere between “nothing” and “whatever”.

By Friday, I had convinced myself to treat isolation as a little sacred time. I had used the week to finish my book, Words that Rhyme and Lullabies, and get a file out to the printer for art samples, editor for editing, designer for tweaks. Having that pdf off and running gave me a mental break “holy smokes my book is done” moment and I realized I had the rest of my time alone to dwell.

I started working through some organization.. gathering the material for book #2 – a devotional guide to emotions. I pulled fall and winter clothes up and washed and worked out my wardrobe for fall / winter. I lit candles and ate ice cream sandwiches and let my energy pool back into my body until Saturday night rolled around and I felt up for a glass of wine outside with David.

I spent Sunday pulling and potting my favorite plants to give them a shot indoors. I cleaned out my front bed and harvested my lavender into bundles that are now drying above the piano. My favorite moments from isolation were when David was off of work and we sat out in our backyard with the dogs and a fire and took our masks off. We had coffee on FaceTime and watched a movie synchronously but it was that outside time that really filled my tank.

And now it is Monday, day 9 of my 10 day quarantine. I will gather feedback on my book this week and start forging into the business side of getting the word out there and gathering orders for the first edition paperback of my first ever book. WOW. I will also start the real work of “writing writing” which requires a daily reading practice, a daily writing warm up, and some mining of spiritual thoughts and content. So today – my last day of quarantine, is like a little morph into new work, a new week.

Anyway. I hope you are staying safe out there. If you are feeling sorry for yourself today – trust me – from my little red hen complex to yours, it really helps to remember everything you have in front of you is a gift of some sort.

Even the hard stuff. That’s where the growth is. Name the belief you have that is causing the shit to feel real and see if that belief is worthy of keeping around.

I’m thankful for my breakthrough COVID infection for reminding me just how in control of my own mental health I am by tracing my emotional vomit back to my beliefs and what I am or am not allowing myself … :) I am thankful I was not needing medical care as I waited this out. I am mindful of those who are super sick and alone.

I am glad I allowed myself the space to surround myself with notebooks and hot tea and candles and use my quarantine to reboot and transition.

Yeah. Somehow we made it work. OK….

Until next time… erin

Lavender bundles
crossing my fingers for these geraniums to live through winter indoors!

Fan of My Life

I am a fan of my life. I realized this today, as I stood in my backyard – thinking about my husband – and smiling, I am such a huge fan of his.

Everything that is hard about my life is actually the challenge of the good. The realized dreams encouraging next round dreams. The next round dreams offering the last round’s fears. The Dalai Lama wrote something in this years planner about using fear to remember a part of your story and then offer that story up to the present. I didn’t totally get it, but I have been working at it a little mentally.

Like, for starters – simply asking myself what it is that I am afraid of…

Recent answers are things like: losing control, getting ahead of myself, being too much for people and seeming dishonest.

To a certain extent, I am afraid of failure but find that simply goes away by realizing my inner success. Little wins like a perfect chicken ceasar salad and well trained dogs help me with larger concepts like “what if I don’t win a Grammy for this” or “what if I am not doing an Oscar acceptance when I’m 80”. The fun thing about it is, those questions’ opposites are visions for what I will wear and how I will thank my most loved and cherished people in my life, how I will share my belief in God and in wisdom and in what I feel is the path to true loving humanity, a truly kind world. My cultural references make me a part of culture, and this – this is humbling, exciting – and makes my fingers type fast.

But I am just sitting here. Having my smoothie and a break outside with the dog toddlers. Which, if you are tracking with that whole story, at 8 months old and four dog park visits in, I see dominance emerging. And I see themes. I see patience as a virtue.

Patience. And the success of a simple life surpasses the success of the world.

Patience. And the love of a puppy dog fills the void in the bank.

Patience. And the attention of your children, the favor of your husband ceases all worries.

Patience. And movie nights, bonfires and s’mores become every day’s luxury vacation. (It helps to have a bottle of a favorite hotel lotion, if I may…)

I am a fan of my life. I am a fan of my family. Aiming success within my heart beat’s reach; more practical to my immediate corner of the world than with American ambition.

And…. on that note, I am going to finish my smoothie, arrange my plants… write a yoga class… and get back to work on my book.

BTW. Special Editions are going to be out this Thanksgiving. Guys. Comment if you want one. LOVE. and Thank you.

About the Oneness of Mankind: Part Two

I was folding up my load of laundry and switching a comforter into the dryer when I thought of this post. Fluidity, fluidity, fluidity..

In yoga, “sthira and sukha” are the essentials that remind us that if we start feeling friction, heat, challenge, find joy – ease – breathe. If we start feeling really loose, really comfortable, look for challenge – take a leg up – add something into the fold.

One of the most interesting parts of my self-discovery over the past 9-ish months (about this time last year, I was entering into official discernment about retiring from corporate life), is that I am in fact quite flighty. I do a million things at a time. I… just do.

I have shared here on the blog before how the ideas for Apple… for Google… for Disney… for General Mills… for you name it come daily. And I know now that it is really not about picking a path in terms of career or product certification or getting the best job with the best benefits and the best flexibility and the healthiest, safest environment. Picking a path for an idea person means: how do I express my ideas daily.

Twitter

YouTube

LinkedIn

Frozen Spaghetti.

Instagram.

Being out in the world. Gathering stories. Telling the stories.

In my experience working on my books, and feeling the limitless source of creativity, I have gotten to know this thing that I get to know as an artist: that I can sit at my desk and wait.

If I don’t sit and wait, I can walk and wait.

If I don’t walk and wait, I can cook and wait.

If not that, I can sleep and wake. Sometimes clean and wait.

And – eventually – the idea will be like “hey! ready!” and then I go light the candle and show thanks for the gift then outpours some illustration or poem or two pieces that fit together and I smile like “I could have never thought of that but I thought of that!” or “I knew I would eventually think of that but never did I think it would have been that!”

“HOW COOL”

I often mutter “HOW COOL” at our studio desk in our home with all the screens and the markers and the whiteboards.

Sometimes I chuckle… sometimes I cry… sometimes I excitedly call my husband or my mom. “Look how cool this is!” *And I share w/ them*

In this understanding of the limitless source of creativity… this pure awareness of innovation – we get to create things, new things, needed things, fun things – with our consciousness; I not only realize the very mortal understanding that you only get so many days in this life but that we are all capable of some degree of this. We each have our color… our flavor.

Your purpose right now may be in the office making money, keeping insurance, till you can break out and kayak all day.

Your purpose right now may be raising a toddler and figuring out your life hacks for laundry and meal prep.

Your purpose right now could be garden zooms or politics or whatever. BUT – the oneness of mankind, that John Lennon push to live as one – comes down to: are you being who you are in doing so?

Is the way you are kind there? Is there a gentility about your spirit that allows others to learn from you and for you to learn from others?

I once told an early boss of mine that I was not supposed to get things finished; but that I was supposed to get things started.

And, in my corporate retirement, I see this as so true. I refuse to live by the idea that I just can’t seem to settle on one idea or that I lack focus. Instead, I embrace the idea that my focus is on sharing as many trickles of life as I can and, when I just can’t share: enjoy it.

Sharing puppy raising tips to a woman waiting for her kid at school with her 3 month old husky littermates out the window is as satisfying to me as a top three mistakes I won’t make this school year Instagram story to my fellow parents of teenagers which is as satisfying as telling a story around a dinner table to a handful of old mates. I have always wanted to be English on this blog…

So, this morning, I decided to blog first. To keep the creation off of the old boiling pot of a mind going; to put my mind soup in a bowl and put it out there. It is literally how and why I am wired.

I am getting closer, every day, to living out the realization I am a thought leader and contributor. Maybe to one person in a phone call that gets their wheels turning on their own life or maybe, some day via a video on YouTube about local transportation needs that will get Elon or the mayor of Webster Groves’ attention and heal some poverty wounds. Who knows. The least I can do is put it out there.

Because, no matter what, I know MY purpose is to share. That fluidity. That weaving. So that the owners and the people whose purpose is to capitalize and make happen, to see through and deliver can take from the fountain of my conduit what they need / want / etc and go from there.

Being an idea person can be a challenge. But – in the spirit of the oneness of mankind, the effort (sthira) then calls for the ease… and where I find joy, where I have always found joy, is in the sharing. And my earliest desire to be an apple tree because of the continual cycle of creation and giving comes to be.

My sukha.

My ease.