This past week I posted a birthday wish for my 22-year-old child on FaceBook. So many share the downside of social media. And, yes, there are downsides, nonetheless, my most recent experience has been one of kindness and care. In the past I’ve been reunited with friends near and far with whom I had lost touch. Some have since passed away. And, social media, namely FaceBook, gave us a chance to reconnect, reminding us of the moments that have shaped us.


I’ve been confused. I thought I knew myself. Instead, who I knew was a woman who was highly influenced by the world around me. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, it just wasn’t representative of the totality of me. We’ve all been there. Whether we’re enticed by a product commercial, or whether we want to join in on experiences with those who surround us, we make choices based on an outside influence. Sometimes this works to our advantage. I’ve visited beautiful places based on recommendations. …


It’s foggy this morning. How apropos for these times. Our minds are foggy. Well, mine is. By the end of any given day I have limited access to names and words. If I want to relax in the evening, I’m challenged to remember one of a number of shows I enjoy watching.


This past week proved to be particularly challenging for so many of my clients, as well as friends and colleagues. Walking through the city brings a needed brightness as the early signs of Spring appear. The warm air feels fresh. The cooler air keeps the parks emptier. Either has its benefits.


It’s a rainy Sunday, overcast and wet outside. I ventured out early to capture the sunrise on the East River, instead I was welcomed with grey clouds and mist. Beautiful in its subtly, but not as majestic as even a partially cloudy day. A day like today can be difficult for those going through hardships, the bereaved, the infirmed, caregivers, those suffering from mental illness, parents with young children, parents with older children, the lonely, and anyone else who is dealing with their own life struggles. One of the worst questions, yet most often asked is, “How are you?” …


Throughout this past week I heard how difficult the week was. We had all gone through a year milestone, but there would be no celebrating. How do we celebrate one year of a pandemic? We don’t. We hunker down, as we had for over 52 weeks, and trudge on. It has been recommended that when we feel particularly vulnerable that is the best time to incorporate a self-care and self-love practice. And, though I share self-care tips, all of which I either try or do on a regular basis, self-love and self-care can feel like ephemeral notions.


I am befuddled. The last thing I need is an hour of lost sleep. And, yet, one less hour of living in a pandemic sounds pretty good. The common rationale for the perpetuation of daylight savings time is extended daylight. Sunlight has been invaluable to us these past twelve months. Sunrises, sunsets, and the shades of illumination while outdoors have provided medicinal assets in this time of Coronavirus. So, we will sacrifice an hour’s sleep for lighter days.


This is the last week of a full year of social distancing and all that comes with it. Most of us are ready to finish this disruptive chapter and return to the activities we love. Yet, I imagine there will come of a time in the future when we will wax nostalgic for this time.


I like scrambled eggs. They are soft and comforting. However, when my mind is scrambled I find no comfort in that. These past two weekends I’ve endeavored to do my taxes. Doing taxes in the time of Coronavirus is less than optimal. That said, I am going to take a nap. An afternoon siesta is not a usual practice, especially when slogging through last year’s numbers. In the past I’ve faced the forms down and I get through it, complaining while I add up sums and input data. Today is different. I don’t have the wherewithal. I’m having difficulty focusing…


As we approach a year in semi-lockdown we’ve been filled with powerful emotions. Social niceties often allude us as we exchange suspicious looks with masked strangers. We don’t have to dig deep to touch upon anxiety or aggravation. They are neatly placed on the surface of our emotional reservoirs. Our tolerance level has been masterfully challenged. And at times our sustained tolerance is losing ground. Well-wishers tout positivity. I am all for optimism. Heck, I write my blog with self-care tips. …

Janet Zinn

NYC Psychotherapist, writer, wife, mother, & more...

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