MY GIFT TO YOU
2021 passed so fast, and with COVID ups and downs, my memories are blurred – I don’t remember what happened and when. If you remember at the beginning of the year, my word for 2021 was “FLOW”
2021 passed so fast, and with COVID ups and downs, my memories are blurred – I don’t remember what happened and when. If you remember at the beginning of the year, my word for 2021 was “FLOW”
The world seems to be opening back up today and we are all trying to figure out what we’re comfortable with. We’re figuring out where, how, and when to emerge from being “locked down” with a feeling of security and safety – in this sense, a physical safety.
Even though I have written about exhaustion recently, it continues to persistently turn up in my conversations with organizations and their leaders. And just in time, here’s a fantastic article from Harvard Business Review that does a thorough, but efficient,
The start of every new year gives me hope and excitement. Of course I know that there is very little difference between December 31st and January 1st. But, nonetheless, the idea of closing one cylce and starting another reminds me of the pacing, the rhythm and dance of life. And this gives me hope.
As we all go into the end-of-year holiday season, tiredness and fatigue are setting in. Referring to this feeling, last week I heard someone say that they felt as though their surge capacity had been depleted. And that resonated with me.
I’m having work done in my house. Workmen everywhere. My beautiful, peaceful home has become a series of discontinuous and disharmonious hammering sprinkled generously with dust. It coats everything: the walls, the paintings, our mouths, nose and ears.
What a 2020 we’ve had so far! Sometimes when I think of all that we have gone through — trying to make sense of the pandemic, navigating workplaces that will never be the same, and dealing with hyper-connection (electronically) in a physically disconnected world — I get exhausted.
Last Monday, May 4th, Italy started Phase 2 of our lockdown. I woke up early that morning to the sound of cars outside my window. After living with silence for well over two months, the gentle whir of the few cars passing by woke me up.
How the world has changed. Outside, spring is re-painting our landscape. Inside, mirroring the foliage, people are itching to push out of their buds, to unfurl into the world. But not yet. Still not possible. In my area, the lockdown rules are slightly relaxing, but we still have shelter in place orders.
Sirens. This is the sound I hear the most. The streets are now dead but the sirens are constant and unrelenting, their monopoly only interrupted by the church bells which ring every hour. If you have read my previous posts*, you know how quickly the story has changed and evolved.