If you were to query 100 people to tell you how they feel, I bet 90 wouldn’t be able to. There are no words at the moment that can accurately capture this moment. Well, sure there are words such as anxiety-riddled, angry, scared, and confused. But those feel empty and cliche. We all use them because the vocabulary well is near empty.
Our collective chests feel tight and cold. And, no hot compress eases the pain. Thus, we talk and talk and talk. However, none of that talking seems truly actionable. What do we do with empty words? We watch a man and a tiger. We come up with random “what if” games. We dance by ourselves.
Categories: current events, mental health, Psychology, society
Сб, 11 квіт. 2020, 14:06 користувач psychologistmimi пише:
> psychologistmimi posted: ” If you were to query 100 people to tell you how > they feel, I bet 90 wouldn’t be able to. There are no words at the moment > that can accurately capture this moment. Well, sure there are words such as > anxiety-riddled, angry, scared, and confused. But those ” >
Shut-in Away From
A ‘Village’ For A Human
Brings An Instinctual
Feeling of Slow Death
In Deed A ‘Bit of
Of FlesH and Blood
Connect in this
The Human Condition
Of Becoming Tools
To Love Ironically
Tools Are A
As A SmART
Phone To Connect
As The Karma of
Yet We go
On still to Love
As Tools We Become Do
I’ve been trying to journal through this experience because as a writer of historical fiction I know there will be researchers in the future who will be grateful for the efforts of people living in this pandemic to record events and reflections and day-to-day struggles unique to this moment in history. But it’s hard. It’s been psychologically difficult to gather up my thoughts and sift through them in this form. I’m still doing it, but it’s a struggle.
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That’s a good point to try to capture all this for even regular recording. But it can be overwhelming too.
Hang in there. How are you?
I have down moments, but my family and I are healthy and hanging in there. Thanks for asking.
And we spend our days working on the middle volume in the trilogy. Because good fiction can come out of time spent ignoring the news.
My tiny series of blog posts about how us retirees survive the current plague, locked into our compound so we stay alive, seems to have something to muse about almost every day.
While we watch the stories of communities like ours where the virus rips through the fragile.
Writing’s tough under these circumstances, but also escape.
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Not simply taking each day at a time, but every hour, moment, second. Take care and stay safe!