Today, I’m writing and probably coloring, too, so I put some supplies near me, and I’m doing a deep dive into an old Beach Boy collection I bought in 1993, released to celebrate the band’s thirty years: ten years after Dennis Wilson died, and five years before Carl Wilson died. Next year, there’ll no doubt be some notice of the band’s sixty years (as there was at fifty years), though they are fractured, and I’m disinterested in anything that doesn’t include Brian Wilson.
I have a chance to see Brian perform in person later this month, but I’m not sure if I will. It’s been a longtime wish, because as many times as I saw the Beach Boys through the years, it was never when he was touring with them.
However, I’ve recently become aware that re-entry anxiety is a pandemic thing, and I have medical confirmation that I’m experiencing it. The only reason I bring this up is not because I have any brilliant insights or wisdom to offer. It’s because in years 2020, 2021, and 2022, I’ve gotten really tired of hearing messages along the lines of You’re so lucky, because…. and You aren’t dealing with the kinds of problems I am…
I’ve said repeatedly that NO ONE, including me or those I love, is experiencing this pandemic without challenges. No one. With or without children. With or without a job. No matter what your love life or work life or family life or age or political affiliation or emotional, physical, or mental stability is. No one is “lucky” or “better prepared” or whatever.
I’ll keep taking steps in managing whatever challenges happen, but mostly, I’ll try to choose kindness toward others. I really appreciate the people who’ve extended kindness to me. ♥