I find myself swirling down the rabbit hole of obsessive thoughts a lot right now.  Maybe ‘obsessive’ is the wrong word.  I just get focused and then … and then … and then.

COVID-19, self-isolation and the growing dissent of half the country definitely changes priorities.  It changes the fabric of life.  It changes how we get information, process information, react to information.  How we value food, necessitites and commodities.  It inspires nostalgia for a time not so long ago when we didn’t think twice about sitting next to a stranger on public transportation.

I read email chains among my family (spread across the globe) touting the strength and resolve of the WWII generation.  It isn’t something I can speak to directly.  One set of grandparents fought, the other were involved in the homefront war effort.  But my grandparents’ experiences were informed by incredibly different situations.  Two were British citizens, and WWII for the people of the United Kingdom was a different war than my American grandparents experienced. There is no way to compare one country to the other or place higher value on one person’s experience over anothers.  (It doesn’t stop everyone from trying, though).

Taking this thought and expanding upon it, I would propose that it’s nearly impossible to compare one generation of humans to another due to each generation facing uniquely time-stamped obstacles, privileges, etc. War as it was in 1943 could never exist in 2020.  Technology, communication … the very way in which we live our lives has completely changed.  Just as war during medieval times is not what WWII looked like.

What we are collectively experiencing globally isn’t like war, because there are no ‘good’ guys or ‘bad’ guys.  There isn’t universal support for the sacrifices made by the men & women on the front lines because war is war.  Political agendas inform what stance each person takes.  Agendas of all kinds and manipulation of information leaves us all pointing fingers at each other. This pandemic is murky and insidious and frightening in its mystery.  As citizens of the globe, we are suffering differently but perhaps, not less.

I’m tired and irritable.  I vacillate from one extreme to the other multiple times a day.  I don’t know myself half the time, I don’t know how I keep going.  I want to sleep.  I want to give up.  I want something to sweep in and save me.

But real life isn’t usually like that.  I have a book of poetry entitled “The Princess Saves Herself in this One.”  Yes.  Yes to this.  The princess has to save herself because believing that anything or anyone else is going to swoop in and take all the stress and worry away is just flat out niave.

But it doesn’t stop me from … sometimes … wishing for just that.

xox, g

Oftentimes I begin the explanation of “Because I Just Decided To” with its origin story in my life.  It resonates with me because it inspires the rumbling in my belly of inspiration every time I think of it.  I don’t know that it has the same impact on people I share it with ….

But I’m going to share it again.  Because that’s just who I am.  Sometimes —even if I recognize something isn’t working — I insist on repeating it, as though repetition might change something.  (The definition of insanity comes to mind as I type this).

The very first episode of The Newsroom is titled “We Just Decided To.”   If you haven’t watched this HBO show (it aired from 2012 to 2014 and has just 25 episodes) do yourself a favor and commit to it.

Husby and I watched it when it aired and we have watched it several times since.  We both love it.  To me, it speaks to humanity and the very best and worst of what we are capable of … merely by what and how we choose to present information.

The first episode sets the premise of the show — presenting news that is unbiased, fully researched, vetted and verified.  Presenting the news and allowing viewers to make their own decisions.  Ground-breaking.

What has always stayed with me is the idea that a group of people had an idea and then put it in motion just because they decided to.  Now, obviously it takes muscle and grit and determination.  The ability to keep going when you hear a lot of NO.  But the concept that it all began because THEY JUST DECIDED TO … I loved it.  I love it still.  I love it always.

I’m a big believer in choice.  (Even after watching Devs …which will have to be its own blog post).  Every day, every moment, we all have choices.  And our choices define our reality.  I choose to wake up every day, make the bed, put on workout gear, do my job, ride the Peloton, shower, make dinner, etc etc.  Because I decide to.  I choose to.

Quarantine has been an interesting microcosm to examine this phenomenon of choice and destiny and life.  As humans, we could choose to fight to maintain as much ‘normalcy’ as possible in our day-to-day lives.  Or, whatever ‘normal’ was before COVID.  We *could* choose to stay in sweatpants, not shower, and eat junk food watching trash TV all day.  Ignore the hours on the clock, and just define time as awake and asleep.  We could choose to give ourselves goals … learn a language, play an instrument, write a generation-defining novel.   Completely change our identity … because we can.

I think — in general — we all fall in the ‘in-between’ of this spectrum.  There are good days and bad days, good meals and hiccups, good sleep and restlessness.  We’re overloaded with content — TV and movies and podcasts and documentaries and books and blogs and vlogs and You Tube  …. I could go on.  For me, the overload creates ennui.

The thing I have noticed is that I will put the effort and research and investigation into the things that interest me.  And because of limited resources and many hours at home, those interests have distilled.  I’ve invested in the life of my plants (something I never thought would hook me); I talk to them and touch them and check on them.  I water them and make sure they are warm enough if frost is coming.  I have committed.

I’ve baked.  I’ve made bread.  I’ve even made ice cream. (Crazily easy).  I’ve shared bits and pieces on social media.  I’ve kept other things close to the vest.   This morning I began feeding my sour dough starter (a gift from our great friends who endeavored to begin a starter back at Easter).

I realized, as I mixed the flour and water, that even though I ended up in food service for myriad reasons, over the forty years of my life I have fallen more and more in love (even when I have decried it). I am committed to food.  Learning it, making it, seasoning it, growing it.  Understanding it.  I may not have played my piano or been consequent about my French lessons on Duo Lingo.  But I’ve committed to my food.

It’s interesting to consider.

And all these things … all these deviations from life as I had previously known it, are because I just decided to.  I decided to grow tomatoes and strawberries. And zucchini and lettuce greens and herbs.  I decided to learn bread-making and commit to sour dough.  I have done all of these things because I just decided to.  Kinda crazy   … and powerful.  If you ask me.

Think about what we as humans could be capable  of … if we just decided to.