Friday Things // 04.02.2021

The one with a butterfly.

Hiya!

Writing to you today from a sunny spot in my yard. It’s a sunshine-y, feels-like-summer day here in my neck of the woods. I hope it’s a good day over by you, too. 

There’s a butterfly that always flies around my yard when it’s warm out. For the last three years or so, at least, she’s been popping through, swirling around our plants like she’s waving hello. She swings by at least once a day in the spring and summer, and despite any knowledge of butterfly patterns or habits (…or really anything at all about butterflies beyond the teeny clips I used to deck my hair out in back when I was in middle school), I’m convinced this is always the same butterfly, stopping by as part of her usual sunny day routine. I named her Mabel. 

Whenever she floats in, I shout a greeting, as if she recognizes me and we’re old pals. I saw her this afternoon, actually, and a Mabel spotting feels comforting in a way.🤷‍♀️ A whisper of familiarity and normalcy despite what continues to be……. uh, a not so normal world? I mean, we’re kinda, sorta getting there, but definitely have not arrived at totally normal’s doorstep quite yet.

Butterflies always make me think of a scene from my very favorite movie, “You’ve Got Mail.” In an email, Meg Ryan’s character notes,

“Once I read a story about a butterfly in the subway, and today, I saw one. It got on at 42nd, and off at 59th, where, I assume it was going to Bloomingdales to buy a hat that will turn out to be a mistake, as almost all hats are.”

I digress. (But now you really see what the inside of my brain looks like, right?🙃)

I’d been thinking about what I wanted to write about here today, and the thing that kept coming back was that feeling of searching for or maintaining some semblance of comfort, and honoring wherever you’re at, regardless of what the rest of the world (or, you know, your friends and family and strangers on the internet) may try to convince you otherwise. That is, comfort related to the pandemic, and the changes that keep on coming (still, a year later!). It feels like we have to keep teaching ourselves what’s safe, setting new boundaries and rewiring our brain. The fact that I still internally gasp when I start a T.V. show and see two characters close to one another or not wearing a face covering says something. And while we’re certainly not out of the woods yet, that light of hope and calm and regular life is starting to get a whole lot brighter, at least from where I’m sitting. I suppose if you hadn’t dramatically changed your lifestyle or felt extreme worry/fear/whatever in the last 13 months, then you’re still enjoying some hazy ignorant bliss, but for those of us who did, suddenly coming out of our shells and easing back to pre-pandemic patterns (like being indoors with <vaccinated> friends without a mask on, or planning a for real trip, complete with a long-distance flight) can feel like a serious shock to the system. Or at least, that’s how I feel. (Anyone else?)

I’m saying all this from my nearly fully vaccinated seat, and I am so, so, SO (can I say it one more time?) ready for normal life. More than just the snippet from Mabel dropping by, but all of it — restaurants and crowded coffee shops and flying to faraway places and dinner parties with best friends. I want the full size candy bar, not just the occasional, fun-size ones, you know? (Sorry, I’m hungry.) And I’m ready for it, but I have to admit I’m also nervous about it. It’s what I’ve been hoping for, praying for, imagining, but yet it almost feels too sudden, like ripping off a bandaid. Weird, of course, because we know this is not sudden. It’s13 months coming — a long time, but also no time at all. Hell, I received hugs from only one person (my husband) after my mom died in July, and after getting through that, I feel like new habits and expectations were cemented, in terms of how I interact with the world, and it’s going to take a little bit of time to rewind the clock. 

Earlier this week, I saw a cartoon from The New Yorker that was speaking to this anxiety about going back to normal (Whatever that even means at this point) and I couldn’t help but laugh because it was so relatable. I mean, are we prepared to see so many people’s mouths indoors?! I’m sort of joking, but sort of not. 

Anyways, my point is that I think it’s natural to feel wary and unsure about our liberation from the pandemic caution, while also being over-the-moon excited. Two things can be true at the same time. Every single person has a different sense of what’s safe or what makes them uncomfortable, a fact that has been made abundantly clear since * this * all started, and that’s going to be true when it comes to easing back into more social situations and those things that you used to do without batting an eyelash pre-Covid. And me (and Mabel probably) are here to remind you that’s it’s OK to take your time, and cover your ears to any pressure from the rest of your life to jump into water you’re not quite ready for yet. Dip a toe, and then dip your whole foot, and sooner or later you’ll be ready to cannonball in. 

Speaking of, I’m eagerly planning for my re-entry into society (as it feels like) in a few days, and daydreaming about where I’m going to go first. 😻I’ll keep ya posted.

As always, thanks for reading! If you liked this post, I sure hope you’ll share The Yay Club with a friend, or even post about it on social media.

Sending you all the YAYs,

Joelle