A slight breeze wafts in through the open windows. There’s a hint of fire in the air. Someone has fired up the BBQ early. It’s sunny, it’s warm. Music blasts through the speakers in my living room. Sorry but not sorry neighbours.
This afternoon I spent a whole hour in the forest near my home. Sitting on a bench. Texting with friends, enjoying the weather, listening to birds chirp their songs, dogs playing in the background. All very idyllic. And seemingly very normal. Which was what I was after. Sure, I felt guilty for being outside for a whole hour. But let’s not get into that.
It felt good to bike around in the sun, with bare (and frightfully white) legs. These past weeks I’ve often felt guilty for doing ‘normal’ things. Even though those normal things (like grocery shopping) were far from normal. Life goes on, always, no matter what happens, or how it may look like. And odd things become the new normal if you live them long enough. There’s something comforting in that knowledge.
The breeze is almost gone. The BBQ smell no longer lingering in the air, but the music is still there. And while I dance around my living room, and The Beatles sing ‘Here comes the sun, it’s alright’.
I am inclined to believe them.