This is Life, Too
Life doesn't stop just because the world ended
It's been a minute. Sorry for my absence in your inbox the past couple of weeks. Honestly, I had nothing to say. Every day seemed the same, and I kept repeating myself in recent newsletters. Writing the same thing with different words felt pointless.
Recently, though, I've been listening to Kumail Nanjiani and Emily Gordon's podcast, Staying in with Emily and Kumail. In one episode, Kumail mentioned he thought of this time as a pause because nothing new had been happening. But then someone told him that this was life too. Coronavirus upended our routines, but we're still living. Our daily experiences are different now, but life hasn't stopped.
In the evenings, a cardinal visits. Different birds show up all the time, but this past week, the cardinal showed up almost every day. He perches on the birdbath, even when it’s dry, and then spends some time exploring the backyard. Tonight, a female joins him. His red plumage looks all the more striking next to her mottled brown feathers. They dance around the rim of the birdbath for a bit, mirroring each other, before she gets bored and flies off. He doesn't seem bothered. This is life, too.
The smell of freshly baked challah fills my kitchen. I'm counting the minutes till sunset brings the beginning of Shabbat, and I can say the blessing and rip off that first piece of bread. This is life, too.
My dog, Mattie, lies beside me on the porch. She jumps up, thinking we're going inside, every time I shift positions. She sits out here with my dad and me almost every night while we smoke our cigars. This has been our routine for years, and yet the slightest movement still sets her off. I laugh every time. This is life, too.
