Today I woke up earlier than usual, got dressed, finished all I needed to do. Pride at the smoothness of the routine, happy at the comfort it brings to gently ease into the groove of the week.
Today I gnashed my teeth, restless, needy, as I started my work day. Struggling to focus, to find something to lose myself into.
Today I isolated, shaking my head because I can't connect yet. Sorry to my friends, who I miss and hope know how much I love and appreciate them.
Today I pushed myself in my exercise, craving the feeling of fatigue, of sore muscles. Relishing the subtle weakness in my legs after, of feeling tangible, grounded.
Today I laughed hearing about my daughter's adventures at her grandma's. A lost puppy, her unabashed joy at seeing it, running in circles with it. I smiled upon seeing the photo. At the puppy's floppy ears and blasé attitude.
Today I bottled soda, admiring the ruby berry tea syrup I made yesterday, the scent of my fermented ginger bug. Appreciating how much life I have in my kitchen.
Today I planned a bread for the first time in months, as I ever so slowly prepared pizza for dinner. A few tears, because it was the first time I had wanted to make pizza in months. I stretched the dough, appreciating the gluten network making the dough firm, pliable. I made tomato sauce, reducing the tomatoes gently. I defrosted tomorrow's dinner and contemplated what it would be like to want to make warm muffins again. What it would mean to make them. To feel excited about something as simple as a hot out of the oven sweet, slathered in butter and sprinkled with salt.
Today is all I can focus on. The next five minutes, hour, six hours. Will I be ok by bedtime? Does it matter when I did so well? Can I lean on today tomorrow as I take more baby steps back into living my life?
To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.
– Audrey Hepburn