Sheltering in place during the Covid-19 pandemic is allowing me to uncover and rediscover the corners of my life and in my mind.
There are corners in all my rooms. I need to talk to my housekeeper (that would be me). Sister-girl keeps things neat and cleans surfaces but she doesn’t pay attention to the corners of the ceiling, underneath the furniture (if it means moving it), nor does she examine beyond the visible. She’s not uncovering nothing if she doesn’t have to. One day soon, she needs to tackle those stacks of paper and eliminate at least 90% of them. It would be a shame to come out of this quarantine with most of the piles that she had when it began.
I need to talk to my curator. My collections must be reduced, reconfigured, and displayed better. I must give-away things that no longer reflect who I am and that might be useful to others. (Had lucky timing that I was able to give a great bookcase, curio and TV stand away on Facebook Marketplace a week before the sheltering in place began.)
I am exploring the forgotten corners of my talents – this file with drafts and re-drafts of manuscripts; that journal with copies of stories that I submitted, had accepted, and were published. “Not bad, not bad at all,” if I do say so myself. I wish I had pushed more on this earlier in my life. (I met and interviewed/had audiences with Toni Morrison and Alice Walker. Why didn’t I send my manuscripts to them or ask for advice as a writer? I got a hand-written rejection letter from Ms. Magazine with a personal comment. Why didn’t I send other manuscripts to them? I didn’t know that I had to keep sounding my own horn to try to break through. Why did I let go?)
Time to insert my mother’s admonition here: Even God can’t change the past. So let it go. Stop looking back. Face forward.
The corners of my marriage. Before Covid-19, there were stretches of time when we were merely dwelling in close proximity instead of truly living together…always so busy.
We are have now gone on walks together, something we talked about pre-Covid-19, but did not make time to do. We have now danced together because we have an abundance of music (http://sun-music.net is my husband’s internet radio station supplied by the hundreds of cds in our home). We don’t have to and never had to wait for a special event to do this. We now give each other morning greetings that are full, slow and unhurried, truly grateful to wake up together instead of taking for granted that we will wake up together in the same way in a familiar world.
Every corner of my life is getting its due.
- One corner is patience. (Developing more.)
- One corner is love. (Who do I love and how do I show them?)
- One corner is music. (Listening to the abundance in home and online.)
- One corner is quiet. (Meditation, prayer, and gazing).
- One corner is remembering. (Some things I’ve forgotten are coming back as daydreams and night streams.)
- One corner is solitude. (So happy I learned to be okay with being alone with myself.)
- One corner is connection. (Phone calls, letters, social media, and virtual gatherings).
- One corner is secret. (The dirty-thirties and frisky-forties. )
- One corner is letting go. (It wasn’t important, it didn’t matter, and you/they did the best you could at the time.)
Corners are cleaned, layers are peeled, and loads are lifted. I feel lighter and better-anchored.
Thank you for taking time to read.
Final Curve (by Langston Hughes)
When you turn the corner
And you run into yourself
Then you know that you have turned
All the corners that are left.