days full and days empty

Oh wow, what a week! I haven't cried nearly as much this week (just once when I was saw the cows running across the field and I broke because the world was so beautiful but so empty) and I think have felt a little more positive and at ease with this chaos, if that is possible.
I've done a lot of really lovely things, spoken to a lot of people I really love and had quite a few realisations.

Things I've done:
spent a lot of hours in my dressing gown, a lot of shoulder yoga, painted a bit, collaged a lot, looked at the sunset, knitted in the garden, knitted in bed, knitted with my sister whilst we watched princess diaries, drank a lot of gin, wrote a few letters, worked a bit, felt a love for learning, made crispy cakes, read in the greenhouse, spent a lot of evenings on FaceTime, watched all of Feel Good in a day, felt lucky, felt sad, felt angry, felt nothing. Tried to take a lot of photos to remember it all.

People I've loved:
My mum, for letting me cry everyday, even when she was scared, for telling me her worries, for trying to make it as good as it can be.
My sister, for finally being happy and free, an unexpected consequence of all this.
My friends. Friends who drink wine/gin/tea on FaceTime, friends who colour on FaceTime, friends who check up on you because you disappeared for a few hours. Friends who ask how your other friends are, who remember small details about you. Where an hour and a half can disappear and you've still got more to say. I am blessed. One day i'll write a post about them all. Or a novel.
My new puppy, for the laughs and the light.
Myself. Because the world is scary, and even though I am overwhelmingly lucky, it can still be scary.

Realisations I've had:

That my life was perfect. That I sort of knew it. That it was blissful and I was endlessly happy and very loved. The temporary disappearance of this is heartbreaking, but it is reassuring to know I felt it, and can feel it.

That parts of this are important. That it teaches that nothing is certain, no tomorrow guaranteed, and that it never has been. That in some bizarre ways it might bring the refresh society needed.

That it'll make me appreciate the mundane and the beauty of my life in ways never conceived. Take time to enjoy tea with friends in the evenings, or  phone call with my mum, or a walk alone whenever I feel I need to shake it out.

That my life and the world I inhibit, no matter how much I try to deny it, is dripping with privilege. That I had no idea how much was at my disposal, how free I was, and now how much these things mean to me.

An appreciation of some small but very special things. The sacred rituals I have lost in this chaos. The moment when I sit at my desk, with my coffee ready to be plunged and my cereal, for half an hour of blissful contentment that I save just for me. For sundays of long phone calls home, and repeated stories from my mum, and then my dad. For sunrise walks, to breathe in the freshness, or rush to the library, or stamp out a bad mood, but to end feeling open and free. The 'goodnights' to my friends as we pile into our individual rooms, knowing we'll be reunited in the morning.

I think perhaps I have become more aware, more in tune. Have noticed moments when I've thought 'fuck, that really was quite nice', and how I miss those little things.

That being able to hug my friends in the pub and sit in my seat in the library again and fuckin' go for a walk at any time of day just because I can, will be the best feeling. But that in some ways its worth the wait.

Wow. Some feelings, and some beautiful moments and some really scary ones. I'm not trying to downplay the severity of this moment, or create pity for myself, I'm just trying to get through it, recognising my privilege but letting myself feel at the same time. What a tricky world to navigate.

What have you been doing to keep yourselves occupied/been thinking in these long days??