my heart has been traveling very close to the surface these days
my heart has been traveling very close to the surface these days
-jen lee
I'm feeling extra tender these days. I'm crying because of beauty and kindness and memory and grief. I'm finding it helpful to acknowledge that we are experiencing collective trauma, and I thought maybe it might help you, too, if I said it out loud. It might not show up as obviously in day to day life, but it's there. An inability to concentrate, low-key loneliness, unexpected overwhelm, uncertainty. It's insidious.
I know I'm down on myself for not doing enough, not saying enough, not knowing how to exist in this time and wondering what parts of my former life I will ever return to. And seeing in so many areas what needs to change for us; for everyone. I know we're up for the challenge, if we can face it together.
We're all trying to take care of ourselves, and likely trying to do as much as possible to help others, too, while not really leaving our own homes. It can feel like the "real" world is online; but it is a poor substitute for being in the physical presence of friends, loved ones, and not-yet-friends. I miss the din of a coffeeshop, writing while overhearing conversations and coffee grinding and the steaming of milk. I love being in the presence of others while not saying anything myself.
Alone...together.
As humans, we're not naturally comfortable in the unknown. Especially not when some of us are feeling our very lives are in the balance. It's been obvious for many people their whole lifetimes, but for everyone else, it's more obvious now. It might not consume every waking thought, but it's there, the not-knowing. I don't know if ‘keeping on keeping on’ is healthier, or if letting in a little grief at a time is manageable, like trying to get ahead of a potential tidal wave, but I do know that finding joy is crucial. Strengthening personal connections however we can is important. Getting to know ourselves and each other better is possible. My instinct is that softening in general might be just what I need. How about you?
If I could visit you right now, I would bake you these muffins. I wish I could make them for all of you, and we could stand in the kitchen while the water boils for tea. We'd plan to move to the comfy chairs after we fill our cups. Even if the cute plates, teacups, and saucers are already on the table, everyone knows that standing in the kitchen, snacking on muffins and drinking tea out of big mugs is what really happens.
Remember that? Remember being so engrossed in conversation that moving to another room doesn't cross our minds because the threads of conversation we're weaving together somehow reside in the kitchen?
Since I'm here and you're there, you'll have to make the muffins yourselves. If you want, they can still be a gift from me. It is entirely possible you already have everything you need at home. I dream of a day I don't need to run out to the store, so I'm going to list as many substitutions as possible. If you don't care about substitutions and have everything in the recipe, please just click below for a printable version to put in your cookbook, or the photo above for a recipe-card sized version.
