in the middle of the night i contemplated loss

i was laying there. trying to shut off my brain. but it just wouldn't. i had past that point. that magical moment when sleep is possible. i had almost fallen so many times to be jolted awake by a snore, a cat meow, an itch on my ankle. all things considered [global pandemic and the like], i've been sleeping relatively well, so i gave in.

maybe with age i know better than to fight it - hello insomnia. formidable foe. one night of you will not kill me. so i played solitaire on my phone. i read yet another article on how we really aren't ready to reopen. i thought about how i miss the studio so so much more than i ever have in my adult life. i sang hamilton songs to myself in my head. i contemplated how to do more with less. i wondered how all my friends are doing. how anyone and everyone is doing. there isn't really coping, but just managing. a series of tests, a series of failures. a series of resilience. a series of just making it through one more day intact.

i thought about how i can't even read in this moment. the thing that has always brought me comfort. made my brain purr along. what has always allowed me to imagine all kinds of things. empathize all kinds of things. live through someone's words all kinds of things. and then i got to the point where i realized i missed writing too.

and then came the flood of loss. people we've lost. freedoms we've lost. convenience, toilet paper, time alone, time with family, time with friends, hugs, students, magical moments, sharing any and all things, security ... all the loss. stacked. a pile of it.

and then. then i started thinking about how our whole lives we prepare for loss. there is always loss. sometimes big, sometimes minisculely small. important grand heartache - to what seems like a big deal, but we get over it. and i started thinking about all the different losses in my life. and then i thought about writing them down. acknowledging them. maybe even thanking them for teaching me how to handle the grief. small steps in a human existence. giving into loss is staring your fragility, your lack of control, your mortality, the suffering in the face. and then i liked that idea.

this morning i quickly scrawled: small tragedies. big meaningful/life changing losses. small tales of loss. short tales of loss. all the little losses. something lost. something is always lost. pointed tales of being lost. fleeting losses.... and i think i have landed with the most simple of statements - contemplating loss.

i promise nothing. but grandiose in my mind is a continuing exercise of remembering moments of loss. there might be some regret. there might be some hope. there might be nothing at all. except for the feeling that it is the right moment to do this. and thus i might as well try.