Open Gate

Yesterday I met online with some people about a future event. An online meeting? Be still my heart. 

Trust me, a meeting about the future is a big deal--a bigger deal than it might seem.

We can now plan, tentatively, for future in-person events. Thanks, science of vaccines! (Get vaccinated.)

For the past fifteen months, I haven't thought much about the past or future. I haven't often allowed myself to reminisce, no "gee, remember restaurants?" or "oh I can't wait to"s. 

On occasion, sure. Watching TV--"was this filmed before the pandemic or in the early days?" "nope, they HAVE masks but are taking them off, when was that?"

But mostly, it never felt like a useful way to spend too much time. 

That meeting, though, opened a mental gate. In the evening, I suddenly remembered the joy of having someone else bring me food that they'd cooked. The food didn't need to be gourmet or expensive or fancy. Just the act of being elsewhere, in a new environment with different surroundings, and food on the way. 

Since then, we've had more than one similar conversation in this household, ranging from wandering the aisles at a library or bookstore, to "stopping in" for coffee and a scone, to dawdling in Canadian Tire. (That last one wasn't mine, so much.)

I'm still not eligible for my second dose, though I anticipate an earlier appointment than originally scheduled. I'm still leery of living too much in the future or dwelling on the past too much. And I'm determined not to re-enter a world that's "back to normal." 

But it's nice to know I can still look forward to being part of the world again--a new world we can create.