129 // Tomorrows After

It’s getting easier. I woke just after my alarm and though my body protested and made sweet promises, if only I stayed in bed cozy under the covers, I still managed to make my way to the kitchen table to write. The words flowed without needing to be forced. And though I wish I could stay here all day, I’m happy enough with my progress that I can get on with the rest of the day free from resentments and regrets.

Coffee, as always, is the catalyst, but I’m starting to appreciate the motivating effects of a good breakfast and proper hydration. The mind, it turns out, is easier to wrangle when it isn’t preoccupied with your most basic biological needs.


I think this year’s Mother’s Day celebrations were a success! My mom was happy with her nails and the Your Mother’s Story Lined Journal I got her. She’s lead a remarkable and tragic life and I think it’s time we start writing some of her memories down and organizing them into something that could be passed down. My mother-in-law loved her homemade quiche and the signpost my wife built with all her children’s names and the number of miles away they are in any direction.

Now the focus turns to Father’s day, and then a barrage of birthdays through the summer and fall before the end of the year holidays. Looking ahead, suddenly, the time between now and 2022 seems too short and far too filled with stress. Suddenly, looking forward through time, I can feel my chest tighten with the panic of time tick, tick, ticking by. Suddenly life itself is too short.

And just like that, my mind has run away with me. Just like that I can start to spiral. This is why practicing mindfulness has become such a priority in my life. I tell myself that’s why a year lasts as long as it does. You cannot take it all in at once, the way my mind keeps trying to. You have to live it day by day, or, preferably, moment by precious and surprising moment.

This day, this holiday, was a good one. Tomorrow belongs to tomorrow and all the tomorrows after.

129//366

This morning was another rough start. I woke up still exhausted, though I don’t know why I should be. I fell asleep before 8:00 last night, a full two hours before I usually do, and I still woke up late and felt so groggy I skipped going on a morning walk with my wife.

A few cups of coffee, a light warm up work out, and the sun coming out from behind the clouds turned my mood around, and just before noon I was ready to venture out for a few errands. We started at the lawn and garden place up the street. Normally I love browsing this place but there were way too many people which made it very hard to maintain six feet of distance and made me so anxious I couldn’t enjoy the trip at all.

The other stores we had to go to were much better but seeing everyone wearing masks and waiting six feet apart in long lines to enter a store and to check out makes me feel like I’m living in a dystopian novel and all I can think about is when or whether the world will ever look the same again. It’s good to get out of the house, but it feels much better, and safer to be back home.

Not much else has been accomplished since. I spent the rest of the day updating post tags and catching up on old articles I’d been meaning to read. Boring things, but at least I tried not to pay too much attention to the TV. I’m alternating between sitting at the kitchen island and sitting at my desk in the “creativity room”. Very soon I’ll be back at work and the days won’t be my own anymore so I figured I better start practicing writing and reading in the evenings again.