On Being

For the past week, I was. Today, I am. When anxious, I remind myself that my purpose, for now, is just to be. Be.

When pain visited, enduring or distraction were my choices. I didn’t try to figure out how it originated, wasn’t surprised, and didn’t keep track of the usual problems.

Some new symptoms have occurred that concern me, not typical of fibromyalgia. New signs point to direct nerve involvement. I have an appointment soon to evaluate these and have been keeping track of them.

An interesting aspect of being is going out on errands and generally interacting with friends or strangers. Fully vaccinated, I remind myself I’m covered but there is a natural reticence to close proximity, shaking hands and even hugging. It feels surreal, as though it’s happening in front of me and I’m watching. A past coworker gave me a hug and at least two people have initiated a handshake. Strange new world.

And so, my goal for the meantime is to exist. I’ll resist suicidal thinking and rest in the knowledge that I’ve set aside any expectations. I’ll be breathing, eating, and sleeping. I’m not responsible for the wellness of others, and I won’t should on myself! I will resist the urge to surge, trying to do the best job at being as I can. Being without qualifiers. Just being right now.