The Minus Touch
Having overcome the awkward emergence from a long, forced hibernation, I find myself subtracting extraneous distractions and feeling content with less.
I find it comforting to keep my own counsel and company as much as I enjoy safely reconnecting with friends and family. That is partly because I have always been able to find solace and support in myself.
Some activities/interests have diminished appeal. Pre-pandemic, I prided myself on being an “infomaniac,” monitoring multiple sources and stories and forwarding the information to others. Now, I am much less involved with news programs and content and I don’t feel compelled to send everything I read.
Pre-pandemic, I was a baseball fanatic, watching more than 100 games each year. Now, I find watching endless hours of baseball boring and unfulfilling, notwithstanding the brouhaha about sticky stuff on baseballs and a game that has failed fans.
I recently read a lengthy, well-crafted historical fiction book about Cleopatra and, in doing so, went against my usual preference for non-fiction. Although the book was nearly 1,000 pages long, I couldn’t stop reading the masterful work.
And now my husband and I have decided not to take a long car trip to Paso Robles, California with overnight stays on either end because it just didn’t feel right—spending four nights in a vacation rental and two in a freeway motel with our dog seems unappealing and unnecessary.
Several friends also have told me that they recognize that they are doing less without misgivings or blame.
