Suddenly, I was setting out fall decorations, blowing the dust bunnies around in circles with the vacuum, and re-potting ornamental plants. I’d been too tired to do all this before but a friend I love was coming to my house so if not for me, thee. Pretending I was a person who bakes, I made three loaves of pumpkin bread, placed one in the freezer, and set one aside for my guest to take back to her family. The whole thing rolled into an unexpected celebration within myself and before long, I remembered who I was before isolation. I was that welcoming person who enjoyed visitors. I’m still that person, albeit somewhat suffocated. It’s been such a long, drawn-out season of concern. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to offer my home as a gift and gather with a light heart.
A casual welcoming washed over me. And, because times have advanced, my friend and I added a few new precautionaries. We’re living in a space of in-betweenness, safer than we were a year ago but mindful our choices impact not only ourselves but those we love. There will be missteps and exposures we can’t control, but we all get to choose how we draw up close to others in our own homes. My friend and I chatted ahead of time about how we’ve recently engaged within the community. We are both fully vaccinated and forthright about our status, which is honest and kind.
Worry pushed aside, we were simply free to be with one another. It was lovely to see my friend’s face un-Zoomed as we talked about what was important to us and shared updates about our lives in story form because we had time. Our expressions and the ways we held our bodies told so much about ourselves at the moment. We were fully present, like children leaning into unstructured play, unbothered by time and enjoying the moment. You know, a text gives you a taste, a phone call shares a portion, but sitting across the table from someone you care about is the full fare, enhanced by the missingness we’ve all been feeling. I was resistant to inviting people over, maybe more out of habit than anything. Clearly, the best adjustments are anchored by love.
I wrote this narrative about the push and pull of gathering in hopes those who are finding it hard to re-engage in person would find it relatable and encouraging. It’s a puzzle, isn’t it? We want to be near others, yet it can feel hard to be near others. In some ways gathering is just so much work, like making a salad when all you really want is to heat up a slice of leftover pizza, you know it will be better for you but putting together all the parts is just exhausting. Social muscle memory will strengthen as we use it but for now, we’re clumsy and all out of practice. Not to mention, life has been sucked out of us from grocery shopping at odd hours and wearing plastic gloves to pump gasoline, mainly over-thinking everything during a chronic pandemic.
Try to resist the urge to be critical of yourself, rather, fully appreciate your attempts to invite people back in. We can share gratitude with an open hand because it will only encourage more of the unselfishness we want to see and feel. Be tender with your fears, they are part of the context of the moment we’re in and not something you’ll always have to carry around as though it were a bag of rocks or an unpleasant family trait. You have agency, in this and in most things. So do I. Let’s use it.
Copyright (2021) Suzanne Bayer. All Rights Reserved