I went into the office today to water my plants and found my boss.  Six feet apart, we had a rambling conversation just like old times.  Except I didn’t hug her when I left.

I’ve had five-minute conversations with my mother as I handed her groceries or a full dinner plate, but this is the first real sit-down and just talk conversation I’ve had in days and days.

It was nice.

I hope to do it again.  Regularly.  Daily even.

I’m weary of this, but worry we’re rushing too quickly into opening things back up.  The second wave of the Spanish Influenza was far more deadlier than the first.  Let’s hope that was a lesson learned. Let’s hope that science and reason prevail.

When I was a preteen,  I took to sitting in my closet when I was upset or overwhelmed or had stuff to think about.  It concerned my parents.  They made fun of me but took turns going “to see what’s wrong with Connie now.”

It wasn’t until I was much older that I discovered many folks, particularly women, used the closet to collect themselves.  It lends a whole new meaning to “in the closet.”  I must have had the only mother so not inclined.

I now have 2400 sq. ft. of living space in which I live alone, but even so, I have nooks and crannies set aside for alone time.  Spaces where I can think and concentrate.  The kitchen is far too busy.  The bedroom puts me to sleep.  The study is for work.  Ah, but the guest room is for dreaming and the nook by the bay window is for reading and thinking.  The roll-top desk is for the daily information gathering and the elephant table is for meditation.  I still have my secret places hidden in plain sight in my home.  I don’t need the closets which is a good thing as they are out of control.

It’s good to be alone.  I am now mostly enjoying self-isolating.  I may be a bit sat when it’s over.  I have all the downtime I ever needed and the alone time plus some.   Today was my day to go to the office and water my plants.  I didn’t feel like it.  Maybe tomorrow I can make myself leave the house.

There is much to think on.  I hope.  I think.  I certainly hope that this is a wake-up call for us.  The Great Sequestration of 2020 will teach us something – what’s important and what’s not.  That being alone with your thoughts is not just valuable, but necessary.  That we have been far too busy with unimportant minutiae that saps our energy and leaves us sitting in closets to collect ourselves.  Here’s to the roaring 20s of self-actualization and contentment.