The days following a lovely vacation can feel gruesome. The return to work, the daily grind of living, the laundry and cleaning and putting away of the luggage – it’s all just insult to injury, as if ending a brief stay in paradise wasn’t sorrowful enough. And yet there is gratitude, that these minor discomforts, which only a week ago felt like home and habit, make us luckier than so many others right now. Then I remind myself that no matter which side we may find ourselves on, comparison is invariably the thief of joy.
It was in Trader Joe’s, after a quick shopping expedition in the early evening, that I found myself blankly staring at the vegetable section, somehow and suddenly on the verge of tears – not for any specific or profound reason, but simply because the world, in all its awfulness, felt briefly unbearable, the way it does when the weather turns, when the veil of enchantment is lifted by a wayward wind, when things appear as starkly and honest as they will ever be, and that terrifying glimpse behind the curtain threatens to upend our happy and intentional illusions. Staring there and hoping my look convincingly appeared as some close examination of the fennel, I felt lost and ready to buckle. My eyes welled up a bit, and I didn’t fight it. That seemed to be enough.
The allowance of the feeling.
The acknowledgment of the sadness.
I turned around and walked over to the nuts, locating the Savory and Sweet mix that Skip and I favored, picking up two packages – one for each of us – because at such a time it was good to remember my friends. Winding my way around the store, I found some butternut squash appetizers that we will bake for JoAnn’s upcoming visit, and a few boxes of Fig and Olive crackers that would open some fall dinner with other friends. This is how life cajoles us back into living. The little flickers of friendship igniting in the future, the gentle tucking away of the past, not forgotten, not misplaced, simply marked for another time… and then the forced march to the check-out, where someone else is there to help, to smile, to remind me what we’re supposed to be doing at Trader Joe’s on a weeknight.
I post these pictures of a cheerful yellow flower, procured while on a vacation with Andy and Mom. They are meant to lift the spirits. They are here to nudge us along.
