It is Saturday morning. My morning started with a 7am wake-up call from my favorite mobile car detailer. I watched movies into the wee hour of the morning without consideration to this appointment I set a few days ago. Luckily, Calvin’s wake-up call is as good as his work. His greeting was cheery; without hesitation I rose and dressed to meet him outside. I returned his greeting with matched enthusiasm as I handed him the keys, yet my happy buzz wore off as I walked back inside. This is “project weekend” I remembered. I have a list of household projects I am trying to knock out this weekend.
There is always something that needs to be done. Is this an excuse or just another card in the social isolation deck? In my party of one comes all the responsibilities of finance, household and wellbeing. I do plan to get out and see two friends this weekend which is only justified against my list of things to do because one outing involves work. I know people who have responsibilities of family will debate with me their deck is a harder pill to swallow than mine. I can understand the logic with more people comes more responsibly, however I see human interaction as energy. The more energy coming in, the more you have to use. Sure there can be good and bad energy but interaction with loved ones is a super fuel. How amazing it must be to watch children grow into their own persons. To be challenged with your own growth and knowledge as they surprise and inspire you.
My relationship with my lists of projects is not so healthy. I need them, but they don’t need me therefore there is no energy exchange. I do them, they take my energy and I am left alone to find sources of energy elsewhere. I usually don’t find any; instead I just add more projects to the list. You see this is better than slowing down. If I slow down I remember what I am missing. This is always tied to one of two things: Forced imagery of love and family of people I do not know yet that I hope will never require me to miss them or someone from my past. The later requires no effort to think about. He is always in my thoughts, his name never far from my lips yet no one ever hears me mention him. I find it strange to have conversations about someone that you are not currently engaged in conversations with.
I am reading more about social isolation these days. There are many forums online where people are sharing their concerns and questions. The obvious question that comes up over and over again is how do you get over it? The easy answer is to do one or more of the 150 things listed on the Better Together list. The problem is what if doing these things does not help you find people that give you the energy (love fuel) I mentioned above?
Unfortunately, this is where the problem starts. We tend to walk through life looking for something as opposed to revealing what we can give. If the scales are tipped for the taking, then how on earth is anybody expected to get what they are looking for? With this equation, I can understand why people become disenchanted and give up. My advice to people dealing with social isolation; never give up and get in touch with your sense of humor.
Earlier this week, my journey landed me in the middle of a trash dumpster. My ongoing project for the month has been to clean and get rid of things I don’t need that are taking up too much space in storage. On one of my trips to the dumpster, I let go of my keys as I was lifting a large box load of trash. My first thought was @*#*!!! The dumpster was emptied that day, there was no way I was going to be able to reach my keys at the bottom of the dumpster. My second thought; I am alone, locked out of my place with no one to call….my life sucks!! My third thought; looks like I am going into the dumpster. My final thought after lifted myself into the dumpster, retrieving the keys and lifting myself out: Look at bad ass me, tough enough to lift myself and jump in and out of dumpster!!
Laughing at myself will not cure my social isolation but it sure makes getting over the disappointments connected to it a little easier.
