Maybe because I don’t drive a lot these days and didn’t notice, or maybe because I am looking for a little excitement in an otherwise quiet life, but I have been operating my car with very little gas. The gentle, soothing reminder light that went on twenty miles ago has now become a loud, angry strobe light that is screaming at me, “Fill up the car, stupid!”⁠

And living on fumes can be exhausting, disheartening, and even scary, and it feels like we are living on fumes. It’s the dead of winter (now there’s a depressing phrase), it’s gray and cold and we are desperately in need of connection and a good, rib-breaking, loving, bear hug.⁠

My car’s problems are easy to solve, but personally I am not always sure how to get back to living life with a full tank.⁠

Early in the pandemic, I was given good advice: take it one day at a time. Don’t dream about the finish line…by summer we will be back to normal… by Thanksgiving we will be crowded around a table full of family and friends. ⁠

As much as I tried, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know the end so that I could tell myself - I can make it. I have been disappointed more than once. So now I try a little harder to consider just today, this day. ⁠

And how I fill the day.⁠

The pandemic has robbed us of those spontaneous connections with people we once had, making our world feel smaller. I guess I never really realized how important those interactions are. So I check in with someone beyond my close-knit circle every day.⁠

The pandemic has also stolen from us the ability to participate in some activities that make us happy. Some are not safe, and some require protective gear. For a while I chose to take a pass. Lately, however, I have jumped back in, playing my beloved squash from behind a mask and a shield. It’s not the same, it’s hard, but it’s something. ⁠

We have today. We can take this pandemic on, even in the dead of winter, even from behind a mask and shield, and win.⁠

That throbbing light is a needed thorn in my side - time to refuel.⁠