I woke up to a rainy, gloomy day with very dark skies again. The Chicago weather is so fickle, and I’m really, really over it. It was one of those mornings where I didn’t want to get out of bed as the heaviness of the entire world could be felt which seemed to reflect the ugly view outside my window. It’s day 46 of this prison from the COVID-19. Ugh. After managing somehow to get up I tried meditating after having my usual morning tea but I had trouble for the first time in I don’t know how long. I had to try again later, I thought, and started talking and texting friends. I felt better. But then I realized that I didn’t want to work out, either. I really wanted some air and wanted to run outside but it was raining ugly all day. I tried meditating again and felt satisfied that I accomplished it. There was no way that I would break my streak because it would mean that the damn COVID-19 is winning over me and I can’t and won’t have it. Somehow this thought made me push myself to start my yoga practice because again, there was no way in hell that I would allow this isolation and circumstances get the better of me. My anger made me perform better with the online yoga class, and afterwards I looked outside my window at the still raining dark skies and felt proud that I was disciplined enough to do things I didn’t want to do, including some hard decisions that I had to make.
Each new day brings us closer to the opening up of the world so although the days are hard, we must get through this. We must be grateful for each and every brand new day.