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The Little Devil Inside

 



There is something that just rubs me wrong when I hear people talk about how great this Covid time has been for them.  I want to grab their shoulders and shake them and yell, "What are you talking about? It's horrible!  I can NOT understand you. At. All."  

It's that little devil inside me that rears its ugly head.  I am somewhat horrified by my reaction to people's joy during this time and I hate that I have that reaction.  INXS had it right and I am profoundly aware of the truth of their song "Devil Inside."  Really, every single one of us really does have a devil inside and during these days, my devil is totally winning.

I don't want it to win.  I want to be happy for people who have loved this Covid time, who have thrived, and prospered and all good things have come to them.  I want to understand them and joy with them, but I don't.  I just bite my tongue and try to change the subject because I don't want to seem ungrateful and rude and idiotic by my lack of enthusiasm at how many great realizations and epiphanies I haven't had.  See?  The devil wins EVERY time.

So, today, as I was listening to yet more people tell me how awesome this time has been in their lives, and I jogged my knees and bit my cheek to stop myself from hollering "you are bat crap crazy," I realized something.  Or actually, I asked myself something.  I sat back and asked myself why I haven't thrived during this time.  I mean, I'm the odd one out here, right?  What's wrong with me?  (Because, it's obviously a me problem).  What's my problem with this pandemic? What am I missing here?

Really?  

What.

AM.

I.

Missing?

I don't really have an answer for that after a full day of pondering this question (actually, I think I know the answer to that--probably waaaay more things than I have any idea about, but that's a whole other problem. . . ).   

So this is my conclusion: The devil inside is the loudest voice and I am listening to it (because let's be honest, it feels so good to listen to all the self-pity and glorious justification inside my evil little brain).  Also, I am in fact, human.  And turns out, I'm cranky and it's hard and it's wearing and demanding and unending and nothing is EVER the same. I miss a thousand and one things that I won't get back in the foreseeable future. I miss things as they used to be.  Really, I think we are all in the same boat but some of you are better at being grateful and seeing the good in all this.  You are listening to the angel inside you and shushing that devious little devil.  

I want to be like you. You are amazing and beautiful and inspiring and STRONG.

So here's my attempt:  I'm going to write, for the next seven days, one beautiful thing that happened in that given day.  

I've been focusing on all the things I'm missing out on and actually missing all the good and beautiful things that are happening RIGHT NOW.  

Ug.

I'm horrible.

Devil, be gone.

Here's yesterday and todays (I'm trying to make up for lost time) beautiful moments:

Yesterday (I had two): 

Henry woke us up--nearly giving us both heart attacks--by shining his phone flashlight in our faces (he is grown and married and lives eight miles from us) at pitch black 6am in the morning telling us to give him a ride home--he'd run to our house.  He hasn't run in years (and of course he starts by running to our house at the godforsaken hour when all good sons are asleep).  It's our fault of course, we've been begging him to run again.  It's a miracle.  A blessed cursed miracle.  

I told him to drive the car back, but John, being a much better human/father than I, drove Henry home while I stayed warm and sleepy in bed.  When John got back, he curled his cold body around mine (that part wasn't beautiful) and then we both slumbered away until 9:30am when our son-in-law's call woke us asking us to bring a few more things to help them move.  I know, that doesn't sound beautiful, but John and I NEVER sleep in.  Our latest is 7:30am.  And we never have time to just snuggle and doze.  But yesterday we did and it was BEAUTIFUL.

And my second beautiful moment was driving in the car for 15 minutes with Phoebe (also married and moving into her first purchased condo--so happy for them).  She has been married almost a year and a half and since then, I rarely get a chance to talk with her.  We chat in passing, but I don't get to know what's in her heart.  And I miss it.  But yesterday, for 15 minutes, I got to listen to what's in her heart and feel that mama/daughter bond and realize it was just as tight and strong as ever.  Made me cry, just a little, for joy.

(Oh and my parents came over for dinner and we laughed and played cards as there was the most beautiful sunset and I thought, ok, my life is good--full circle)


Today:

Crazy thing happened.  I was sitting listening to a Relief Society lesson with 40 other women on Google Meet and it hit me, like a lead weight in the gut (honestly, knocked all the air of me), that I wasn't alone in all this crazy.  

The names of thirty women who are fighting all sorts of crazy and hard (even without Covid) with courage and humor and hope, ran through my mind and my heart filled up with love.  Love for each one of these women in that chat room with me and all the women in my life who carry me, inspire me and make me laugh when I honestly don't think I have a smile in me, let alone a belly laugh.  I let the the tears run free and wild and my goodness did it feel good.  I love you ladies. You know who you are.  All of you, you are my beautiful moment.  Thank you!

Also, it's wicked cold out and even though you might hate me for saying this, I loved it.  I felt that little spark of human kindness that seems to flow more freely during the holiday seasons.  Hope. I think it floats in on the first snowfall of every winter.  I caught some today as I was freezing my nose off walking in the gale force winds and flurries.  


So little Devil inside me, I got to warn you, the fight is ON.  Beautiful moments--do your job!

If you all want to join me, feel free.  And if you want to tell me about your beautiful moments, PLEASE DO.  I need as much inspiration as possible.  

Until tomorrow . . . 



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