You can't always get what you want - Covid 19

My body stirs each day around 8am; naturally, gently, on its own accord. I fish around my pillow for my phone, check the time, and spend a few minutes checking in on the world. Luna lays beside me and hops to her feet as I pull the blankets off. I look over my shoulder to see if Celeste is awake, she usually is. I get up to brush my teeth, my hair, wash my face. Eat something for breakfast, meditate for fifteen minutes, drink coffee, and start another day in quarantine. I’m trying to find the balance between taking this pandemic seriously and not taking myself so seriously.

This has been my norm for the past month, in between hiking trips around Arizona as the news around quarantining evolved. I have been following the van life community online to see what others were doing to quarantine during this time. Because I am pretty self-sustaining in my van with solar and plenty of water, I felt comfortable making these trips with minimal contact with busy public spaces. I bought all of my food in advance, top off all of my water, and stop mostly just to fill up at various gas stations. But in the current situation, traveling out of the city and returning seems irresponsible.

So I am once again in-between. I’ve been staying in Celeste’s studio apartment. We are two women and two cats in a small space. We are fairing well— watching various movies and shows, trying beers, taking turns making each other meals, laughing, and talking each others ears off. But as time passes and quarantine extends, living together in this way doesn’t feel sustainable. Don’t get me wrong— I truly would not want to be quarantined with anyone else. But quarantining in a small space puts stress on what we each need during this time. It’s difficult to be autonomous. I took out a piece of paper this morning, wrote a list of what I think I need to make the most of this time, and compared my options. The list goes: Productivity, outdoor access, solitude, daily yoga and meditation, internet access, contact with loved ones, and private space. The options I’ve outlined: Staying at Celeste’s and spending more time in the van, traveling to blm land and hiding out for long periods of time, or returning home to Missouri to have safe and private space. On paper, the latter looks like the best option. However, it does put me back at my parents for an undetermined amount of time. Staying on BLM land feels irresponsible without adequate food/water storage to quarantine for weeks. I would have to travel to nearby towns for supplies. Staying in Celeste’s parking lot would be uncomfortable in the eighty degree weather, but not impossible.

Can you tell I’m still on the fence even as I type this? I don’t want to stay and I don’t want to go. But I want to make the responsible decision that is best for everyone during pandemic as well as myself. The past couple of years have been full of change so I feel strength in the chaos. I’ve found myself pushed up against a wall over and over, pressed to make a big decision. Here we are again. And so soon.

I will start my drive to Missouri today or tomorrow. I will ride out the storm with my family, in a safe and private space. I’ll do yoga and read and write and create. I’ll work on my van. I’ll focus on finding freelance work. And I will make plans to travel again after the pandemic is over. I will be sad to go from seeing Celeste everyday to not at all. I will feel restless when I find myself back where I just left a handful of weeks ago full time. I will miss all of my friends who are close in distance but safely quarantined. I will spend more time yearning for normalcy. I will feel uncertain. But I will be safe, I will be with people I love, and I will get back on the road when the time is right.

I hope everyone is holding up. With a normal but abundant amount of toilet paper. Keep cultivating joy.