Scaling Down by Kaden Sheffield

Just a few short weeks ago my life, like yours, was normal—full of trips around town to stores, movies, theaters, museums, restaurants, classes, parks, full of meetups with friends, full of plans for future outings. My extroverted, never-a-dull-moment, Red Bull American Dream seemed thoroughly on-track.

Then came The Virus, followed by The Shutdown, and suddenly everything changed.

Like everybody these days, I find myself scaling down my life, re-centering it closer to home, and while much that I enjoyed has been taken away, The Shutdown has given me one great gift: it’s given me permission to do less, and be more.

You’d think that, being retired, doing less would have become the norm by now, but as my friends who retired before me had told me, “You’ll soon find yourself doing more than you did before retirement.” They were right. There’s a sort of continual social pressure throughout our lives, it seems, to always be out there doing, running, socializing--life as one endless beer commercial. And so we hurry along out of habit, even in our Golden Years.

So I’ll admit, during the first week of The Shutdown I was restless. I found I was always thinking about the things I used to do outside my home, the places I used to go. At first I found the lack of places I “needed” to be and things I “should” do strange. But I’ve been surprised at how quickly they’ve ceased occur to me, and at how little I miss them, for the most part.

To be honest, because I’m lucky enough not to have to play a front-line role in this pandemic (so far), my life seems to have actually improved. Each day, I wake when I wake, get up when I feel like it, put on whatever old comfortable thing I’d be ashamed for anyone to see me in, and begin the bliss of puttering—wandering about my house and yard, doing whatever comes to mind. I read, write, play and compose music, draw, paint, garden, pet my cats. Sometimes I just think. Bliss.

I’m also started doing things that if you’d asked me a few short weeks ago I would not be doing.

I’m reaching to the back of the pantry, pulling out ingredients and spices long neglected, searching for recipes to use them in. I’m not sure I’m cooking any better, but at least I’m cooking more interestingly.

I’m reading and binge-watching things I’d have eschewed a few weeks ago as “useless trash,” and loving it. I’m freeze-framing head shots of my favorite newscasters’ broadcasts from home, checking out their décor and especially the book titles on their shelves, shamelessly nosy and judgmental.

I’m wasting time relearning “cool skills” I had as a kid: whistling, yo-yoing, juggling sock balls over the laundry basket as I fold the wash.

But amid my new petty banalities also blooms something more. I find myself storying—remembering, creating, crafting, preserving and sharing—and having deeper conversations than I used to, both virtually with friends and family, and in person with my husband. Even with myself. The gift of time, quiet and solitude allow me to converse with myself in ways I haven’t since my college years, when, sitting under a blazing red tree under a blindingly blue Indian Summer sky I wrote this:

We unspool into life, slack,

Responsive to the slightest breeze.

Then, slowly at first, we are stretched, pulled

Tighter and tighter, until we become

One thin line, and we never again know

Whether the breeze is blowing or not.

I sensed even then what modern life would bring, would do—and it did, at least to me.

But now I find “the slack is back.” Life has cut us all a little slack, even as it stretches us to the breaking point. I think we used to call this collection of odd symptoms “real life.” I like it, and I don’t think I want to go back to the way things were before.

Comments

[Marian Nance]

Welcome back "Slack." I certainly relate to using this time to explore the home. I never knew I had so much to do. :-) I to remember when time was too precious to waste because there just wasn't enough to do all that needed to be done. Everything had to be scheduled. What a difference a virus makes. Great article. Enjoyed reading.

[Elizabeth Wunsch]

Permission to do less and be more! Perfect.

[Myranette Robinson]

I'm enjoying this time by baking, catching up on old magazines but somehow I can't seem to get to that closet. But, like you I'm giving myself a break which I've never done in the past. Great blogpost, Kaden

[Mindytarquini]

That's the thing. How to keep the good aspects. Will people keep on cooking and baking? I hope home dinners with friends becomes a 'thing' again.