Everyday Life

As I walk the streets, the unnerving peacefulness is overwhelming. No screams of delight as kids fight over a football. No low drones of the California Buzz - the leaf blowers and grass strimmers constantly reminding you of their never ending busy-ness. No squeal of a jet as it races out to the ocean. No chit chat, no voices, no music. Just quiet.

The noise of everyday life has stopped dead in its tracks.

As I walk the streets, I hear the gentle chink of the ice in my drink, the pads of my dog on the pathway. I notice the bird song. I am fascinated by how many different calls there are. I hear my soft breath, my own footsteps.

Simple sounds normally drowned out by everyday life.

As I walk the streets, strangers pass by and nervously side step. There is maybe a hushed hello from a head bowed low. An underlying fear that even the slightest of breath may dare seep out dangerously into the open air.

I look around and wish that everyday life was just everyday life. 

And as I head back home, the knots in my stomach grow bigger. The sadness of the world at this moment in time is overwhelming. The desire to cry creeps up at any point in the day. The fear of not knowing what we don’t know. The anxiety of so many what-ifs and maybes.

And I realize that this is grief. I am grieving for everyday life.