Concerts in the Age of Covid

The last concert I attended pre-Covid was Richard Marx. It was great fun. Not only is he a talented singer/songwriter but he is funny and engaging.

I had no idea that would be my last, in-person show.

During Covid, musicians suffered. Touring is a major income stream for both bands and soloists. Responses to not being able to tour varied. Innovative performers found ways to perform. Online concerts were big deals. Some were free to keep fans engaged. Individuals frequently used social media to play for their fans in a more intimate way.

A few adventurous bands performed while they and their audiences were in bubbles, actual physical barriers against the virus. Don’t believe me? Check this out:

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/flaming-lips-concert-perform-inflatable-bubbles-oklahoma/

In the aftermath, many things are changing. People are back to work. Restaurants are busy again. Movie theaters have opened. Concerts are back, too. Big and small, indoor and outdoor venues fill to capacity (sometimes at extreme costs).

But as much as I love in-person concerts, they go on without me. I have not forgotten the devastation of Covid. The millions of people it killed—some of whom were my friends. I can’t forget how it’s spread—through the air primarily. To be at a venue surrounded by a crowd of unmasked people cheering and singing is a risk I’m not willing to take.

I just can’t forget. How can anyone?

Time Lost, Time Found

This blog post does not address the grief many of us experienced as our family and friends were lost to the ravages of COVID-19. It is not my intention to minimize our profound losses, but to offer perspective on time. My heart is with all of you.

TREVANN

It seems nearly every week for the last few months I’ve heard someone lament about life since the start of the pandemic. I can’t blame them. I’ve lamented too. The last year and a half has been surreal at best and at worst, lost time. Here are the Top Three Laments.

• The COVID 15. Or as I call it the pandemic 20. There are probably a few reason for this community-wide weight gain. More people than ever were baking for the first time or honing their baking skills. We were also stress eating—this was stress unlike anything we’d experienced before.

• The vicious cycle of anxiety-produced hyper-vigilance. We worry, wash hands continually, wipe down groceries, collect sanitizer and masks, and read too many articles about the virus.

• Guilt we didn’t accomplish more. Many of us overachievers/compulsive workaholics have given serious thought to what we could achieve given a year of excess free time. And then, given the time, we didn’t do it.

• De-conditioning. Active jobs became remote and sedentary. To add insult to injury we had no access to pools, gyms, and competitive sports.

As the world reopens (for better or worse), and people begin to go more places and do more things, the weight of grief for the Lost Year and a Half is dissipating. But it isn’t good enough to forget why and how hard we grieved. We have to embrace it and find the lessons learned.

A pocket watch in the sand at sunrise. Or sunset.

For instance, reframe the noise in your head that says you didn’t accomplish anything. If you give it thought I am quite sure you’ll figure out something you accomplished. We learned to bake,didn’t we? We taught ourselves computer skills we didn’t previously have. We cooked at home moreRemember we spent a lot of intensive time with our families and closest friends. First of all, if your family and friends are anything like mine, that is an accomplishment. But we also created new memories. Learned something new about the people we love. Treated each other with extra special care. 

Many of us kept the world turning. We did our part to keep the supply chain moving—the truck drivers, the grocery store workers, the delivery folks. We taught our children. We took care of the sick and cared for the elderly. 

Our lives were boiled down to the most important people, places, and things. Nothing had been lost. We found time.

It's Hard to Not Worry

A friend of mine, who also happens to be one of the smartest people I know, is very worried about the increases in COVID cases in this country. He and I spent the entire year worried, but managed to make ourselves feel better once the rates in Connecticut began to decline and jumped for joy when the vaccine was rolled out in earnest. But things have started to reverse and he’s worried. So am I.

First, we noticed the cases in our state have started to climb. Earlier in March, we were at a low infection rate of 2.7% . Two days ago we were at 4.88%—the highest rate since early January. Second, cases around the country are on the rise, with a couple of hotbed states like New Jersey, New York, and Michigan. As states continue to roll back all restrictions, we’ll see more with that unfortunate distinction. Around the world, the data is sending the same message: The pandemic is not over.

Then we noticed that many people we know are resuming life as it was in The Before Times. They’re eating indoors at restaurants, going on vacations, and taking off their masks. Even people who previously were as cautious as we were are acting like a dose of vaccine is a magic potion.

Then my friend had an epiphany: If the people who, like us, effectively put themselves out of the path of transmission are now putting themselves back IN, there may very well be more people in the chain of transmission than there were pre-vaccine. Add to that dire thought the increased transmissibility, we are in a real life Petri dish.

What pushed me over the edge and back into worry, however, was the recent statement of the current head of the CDC: “I’m going to lose the script, and I’m going to reflect on the recurring feeling I have of impending doom.” You have to admit, even if you don’t completely buy the science (which you should because, well, science), that’s an incredibly scary statement from the head of the Center for Disease Control.

It. Is. Not. Over. #wearyourmask #washyourhands #stayhome The sooner we all resume taking this advice, the sooner we actually can get back to normal.

Soul Soothing Beach Memories

Just this week, I’ve realized it’s been about three years since I’ve been to the beach. The first two summers I was dealing with excruciating sciatica. Walking was difficult. Driving was impossible. This past summer, of course, was Pandemic Summer 2020. I didn’t go anywhere except for the odd doctor appointment and I had to be forced to leave the house then.

In the last few days, my back has started aching. You know, that band at your lower back? The muscle spasms take my breath away. I’m trying to baby it so that it calms down. I do not want to have another summer without the ocean.

Water rejuvenates me. The sound and rhythm of the waves soothe me. It’s always been this way. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m a water sign. Or maybe its because my mom loved the beach and we’d spend sunrise to sunset at Sunken Meadow Beach on Long Island. If I close my eyes, I can see it as if it was yesterday: Mom in a beach chair with her book. Her beach hat AND a tilting umbrella. The blanket loaded with coolers, KFC, and abandoned flip-flops.

My sister was always the first in the water. My brother was the last because he hated taking off his t-shirt. But once we were all in, it was hard for Mom to get us to come out. The water captivated us.

It still captivates me.

Fingers crossed I don’t have another sciatica flair-up. I’ve got to get to the ocean by summertime.

Gifts of the (Covid-19) Season

For most of my adulthood, I’ve had a vision of the holidays. Picture this: Sitting in front of a fireplace, looking out of a large (well-insulated) picture window as it snows. On the coffee table is a bowl of popcorn, my mug of hot chocolate (overloaded with marshmallows), and my book. My partner and I spend days on end reading, snuggled with each other, our dogs, and our favorite comfy throws.

What’s your holiday fantasy?

We’ve gotten close in some years, but the days have always been so hectic. As odd as it sounds, this year we’re going to finally do it. The odd and fragile year has give us the gift of time. The gifts of a slower pace and opportunity to focus on our true priorities. Health, happiness, serenity, and love. Oh—and there’s a snow storm coming.

We’re taking advantage of these gifts. I wish you the same.

5 Things You Can Do to Take Better Care of Yourself

I don’t know about you, but I’m taking far worse care of myself now than I did in the “before times”. I know that I have to do better with the basics—#movemore #eatbetter. I have plans to improve, and I’ve forgiven myself for my transgressions. But in the course of thinking about how to feel better and make the most of my time in isolation, I’ve come up with a short list of ways I can take better care of myself.

#1 Stop Worrying. This one has been a hard lesson to learn. I’ve been a worrier all of my life. At points in my life, my worrying was debilitating. But one evening, as I shared a current worry with a friend, my loving friend said, “Don’t waste your time worrying about things you don’t have control over. It doesn’t help. Plus you ruin a good day due to the possibility of a bad one.”

Well, damn.

That simple truth hadn’t occurred to me. Now every time I start to worry about something I can’t control, I hear her voice.

2. Tend to someone. Or something.

Sometimes we are in our heads too much. At least I am, especially when it’s quiet or I’m engaged in some routine activity like washing dishes. But when we step outside of ourselves and take care of someone or something, we are immediately warmed. Happier. And it’s not all due to appreciation from those we’re caring for. It’s also because it just feels good. It reinforces our connection to the world. Sometimes, it’s inexplicable. When my Toby lays in my lap because he wants lots of petting, it’s joyous—Even though his boney knees dig into my tender flesh. Shaving Molly, my furry senior dog, feels good. Not that it is truly an enjoyable process for me or her, but shaving her feet helps her to walk better. My partner loves to tend to flowers. It makes her happy to see them grow.

Take care of flowers, pets, family members. Drop off some cookies on your elderly neighbor’s porch. It doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you’re tending to others.

3. Do something fun, with intention.

Whether you work from home or go into to work, times have changed. I feel like I work 24-hrs a day because if I’m not actually engaged in work, I’m thinking about it. But when I plan something fun, like doing a craft or going for a drive with my partner, there is a line delineating “NOT WORKING TIME”. Moreover, I have something to look forward to.

Plan something fun every week. If you can, every day. It will make a difference in how you feel.

4. Find time to treat yourself to something special.

Rather, something that feels special to you. I like a cup of coffee and a book to read. Some people like a glass of wine and a book, or a bath. Or you could color. Tend to your garden. Crochet. Paint your nails.

You deserve time that is DEVOTED TO YOU BY YOU. This offers an opportunity to relax, reflect, or rejuvenate. Do what you like.

5. Smile more.

Research tells us that smiling is good for us. It improves our moods, alleviates stress, and can boost our immune systems. It can also make people around you smile—Bonus! I would bet that you have a few things that are guaranteed to make you smile. For me, some movies make me laugh every time. Ever see “Cold Turkey”, or “Arsenic and Old Lace”? Also my partner has a silly sense of humor that resonates with me, so she makes me smile and laugh all the time.

Find a reason every day to smile. Especially the days you just don’t feel like it.

What nourishes you? Let’s share and encourage each other!

Coloring=Mediation

My partner and I have effectively quarantined for 8 1/2 months at this point.  I would love nothing better than to shop for myself, spend a lazy afternoon in Barnes and Noble scanning magazines and books. I want to have breakfast at our favorite diner and have coffee from my favorite shop.  As much as I love my partner, our dogs, and our house, I want to go out again.  I won’t of course.  I understand the reality of the pandemic right outside my door, literally.

Experts often recommend meditation.  I’ve tried and I always fall asleep or my mind becomes even more scattered.

But I have found something that allows my mind to rest. Coloring. I know I have mentioned it before but I feel that I have not recommended it strongly enough.  When I am concentrating on finding every tiny space to color, I let everything else go.  All I think about is the picture and the color.

I admit I like paper and crayon coloring too but I prefer using coloring apps.  Apparently, I am not the only one as there is an amazing array of apps to choose from.  I’ve downloaded probably twenty of them.  But I find myself using the same three.  Happy Color gives me new pictures every day.  My favorites are the ones labeled RARE.  With those pictures, each swipe brings not just a color but designs and shades of the color.  There are never enough but they keep me coming back.  I’m addicted to pictures of rooms and table settings. I am always excited to find several in my morning haul. 

Another is Colorscapes.  As I touch the space I intend to color, I enjoy the puff of blue smoke that lets me know I hit the space.  This is especially helpful when the pieces are very small.I know that I’m finished with a section when no more smoke appears when I touch the page.  Paint By Number is similar to Colorscapes.  It has similar projects but no blue smoke. I have tried others that are beautiful but keep returning to these for some reason. 

I am not sure if it’s  pathetic or a good thing that a puff of blue smoke or swatch of color can leave me feeling happy and peaceful.  Do you have activity that works like meditation for you?

Reach Out for Something New

Not too long ago, I was feeling sorry for myself. It all felt like too much, more than I could bear. Maybe some of you can relate. It occurred to me that there are three possible outcomes to the end of the pandemic. I will either come out of this exactly the same (in which case I will have wasted a year or more of my life), I can come out of this worse for wear (and who knows how bad “worse” can be), or I can emerge better than I was before.

I’m choosing the latter.

Vegetable Stew. Yummy.

To this end, I’ve recommitted to eating better. Considering current events, it seems prudent to eat less meat. I’m not ready to go full on vegan. I’m still going to eat dairy, for now.

I’ve been hunting for recipes that are filling but meatless. One meal I particularly like is Vegetarian Stew. It has corn and potatoes and zucchini and tomatoes, among other veggies. With a sprinkle of parmesan cheese, it was delicious. Let me know if you want the recipe.

I’ve also tried my hand at crocheting. I used to crochet—a long time ago. All I ever managed to create were scarves. But look! Fingerless gloves.

Before you start to critique my effort, I already know they’re full of flaws. But when I look at them, I see sheer perfection. I’ll get better with practice.

One thing I still need to add to my process of change is something calming. Peaceful. Reflective. I’m not sure what that will look like. I do need to read more. I love reading but it’s one of those things I don’t often make time to do. I’m not good at journaling. Maybe listening to music? Meditation? There is something appealing about both of those options. That being said, I’m open to suggestions.

I wonder if I will be successful.

In a song, Prince wrote, “It’s time to reach out for something new. That means you, too.” I think it’s my time to change. I’m going to give it my best shot.

Where Would You Go If You Could?

If nothing else, staying home for the past few months has given me time to write, and time to think.I tend to focus on my darker, sadder thoughts so, too much time to think isn’t usually a good thing for me.

But sometimes, I think about what’s on my list of things I will do when (if?) the pandemic is over. I definitely want to drive down to the Outer Banks again. I fell in love with the picturesque trip as well as the entire area. From our hotel, the beach was not even a stone’s throw. We stepped onto the balcony and right into the ocean breeze. It sure was beautiful.

I think I’d also like to take an Alaskan cruise, or maybe even a land/cruise combination. Not only are the mountains and icebergs breathtaking (even in pictures), but the Northern Lights...What words can describe this? I imagine being there, seeing this, would be a spiritual experience.

Given the chance, where would you go?

Cookies. Yes, I said it. Cookies.

Being home more than usual has been a challenge in many ways. By nature, I’m what my partner calls a slugabed. Meaning, given the option, I might just slug around and stay in bed. I wouldn’t go that far, but it is true that I don’t get nearly the exercise I did when I had to go into the office.

MMMM. Cookies.

So, I’ve been sitting around more, working at my job and writing, and trying to make sure I do stretches and get up, away from the computer, and walk throughout each day.

I’m also coming down off of a baking binge. You name it, I baked it. Banana bread, cranberry orange bread, cookies, actual bread.

See where I’m going here? None of that is good for me. NONE. But what’s a writer to do? Cranking out words is hungry work.

Fortunately, I found a recipe for cookies that is gluten-free and therefore not that bad for me. They’re made with coconut flour, almond flour, eggs, chocolate chips (YAY!), sugar, and butter. They are very rich. You can only eat one at a sitting. And they are really satisfying.

Drop me a line if you want the recipe.

Time to Change Things Up

I am currently slogging my way through Camp NanoWriMo and bemoaning the fact that I did not get a single word written during Camp Nano in April.  The self -flagellation reminds me that if I had only done the work in April I would be doing rewrites and edits instead of staring at a blank screen, trying to figure out what my outline notes meant.

Another worry for me has been nicknamed the Covid-15.  That’s the fifteen pounds the average person gained in the first months of sheltering in place.  I’d previously worked very hard to eat healthy meals, drink water, and exercise.  But with the quarantine, the lethargy that affected my writing also affected my healthy habits.  Months of sitting at a desk, followed by sitting on the sofa, and topped off by sitting at the dinner table, well, let’s just say I developed a fear of weighing myself.  Eventually I had to face the fact that some of my clothes were uncomfortably tight. 

I forced myself to the scales and was relieved to learn I’d only gained six pounds. It was still too much.  Even worse was the result of sitting.  Walking to the end of the driveway a couple of times a day just didn’t do the trick

My reasoning, such that it was, was that I deserved a break from work and good habits because it helped deal with the stress and worry of Covid-19.  Things would be back to normal by summer.

Obviously, that hasn’t happened.  Parts of the country reopened to devastating results, so the quarantine continues, at least in my state. My family continues to practice social distancing and #stayingathome. 

I’ve come to the conclusion that the next leg of the pandemic can’t be the same as the first four months.  I have set goals and planned baby steps for walking and exercising more, I’ve swapped my cola for water (most of the time), ceased eating so many carbs, and exchanged frozen veggies for fresh. 

I’m also creeping my way through Camp Nano.  I may not hit my goal,  but I am writing every day.  Those are great starts.

Now that things have lasted longer than we’d hoped, is there anything you’re going to do differently?

CSA and Me

Scientists and epidemiologists insist, pretty much across the board, that the pandemic isn’t over and I trust science. I understand that the more people who #stayhome the greater our chance of eliminating the virus. Or at least buying us time until there is a treatment or a vaccine. Consequently, I’m not going anywhere—for the most part.

I’ve had to take the dogs to the vet. I’ve had to go to renew my license. And I took a drive around the block for curbside pickup of a couple of Cafe Mochas because my partner was going a little stir crazy. I wore lined masks for every outing, kept interactions brief, kept an appropriate social distance, and only left the house for necessities. Starting this week, however, I have to pick up my CSA.

My bounty for Week 1. Yum!

CSA. Community Supported Agriculture. This is a program that supports local farms. You buy “shares”, which gives the farm money to buy seeds and other supplies in advance of the season. In return, you get a “share” of the farm’s yield.

I am now obligated to go out into the world every week to pick up my farm shares. A part of me wonders what the heck I was thinking. My partner and I buy into CSAs because we support local farming, largely because I know the vital role they play in our food chain. I think corporate farming is a bad idea, but I’ll save that for another post. (In case you’re interested, this is a pretty good article.)

It’s a risk, I know, going out every week. But sometimes, you have to take risks, or as my mother would have said, “put your money where your mouth is”.

Huh. I just realized that I’m doing that quite literally.