Details in the fabric – Jason Mraz

We are living in weird, weird times….

When we toasted on the new year (euh, let me think, where was I even….ohja, in Amstelveen, with dear, dear, friends, recovering from the most horrible food poisoning), who would have thought it would develop into this. Well, the food poisoning might have been an indication that this year had high sh*t hitting the fan potential….

We just heard that the measures taken for flattening the curve of Covid-19 on our tiny island Curaçao have been extended for two weeks.  We are sheltering in place since the 30th of March, a mere two weeks. In these weeks, we are not allowed to leave the house, only for groceries and the drugstore and then only on the days that your licence plate is allowed on the street. Only one person per car allowed and you can be sent back home at a roadblock if you can not prove a valid reason to be on the road. That besides the fines that are defined for all possible transgressions…
With a mother that is the epitome of ‘person at risk’ we have been laying low even before this time, because I really wanted to be able to hug my mom for her March birthday. Thankfully, my father stopped working just before the lockdown, so they are at home together, sheltering in place. But still, no hugging allowed, it really is the hardest thing.

I have been struggling a lot these days with my emotions. When the lockdown was announced, even though I had been bracing for it, and we made sure beforehand that our loved ones were taken care of, it felt like a blow. I love my job, and part of it is being outside, by myself, in nature, in places that some locals have not ever visited. Of course, as a scientist, there is deskwork to be done: data entry, research, papers, reports. So, I sat down those first days and worked like a machine, excelling at Excel, transcribing a flora bible into a searchable sheet. That, and taking care of the 500, 600, 700, 800 workplants I had growing at home by this time. I felt so much pressure, to be worth my salary, hearing from/about all these people who lost their jobs due to the lockdown. My sister was supposed to start working on April 1st, mere days before all went to hell…friends have been sent home, without pay, notwithstanding contracts. Others can’t return home, because there are no flights and no jobs to return to. The lady that cleans our house, to provide for her family here and in mainland Venezuela, as we are both working too hard to do it ourselves, is not allowed to work.

This household has been doing well. We really have been blessed. The impact of this crisis up to this point has been more emotional than anything else. And here I am, doing my so not vital work at the best capacity I can, and getting paid. I have always felt an intrinsic need to work, to put my abilities and energy to good use, so that is not the issue. But my brain is struggling with the situation, a lot more that feels merited. And that causes stress. Extra stress. Here I am, in extraordinary circumstances, trying to do ordinary stuff. Trying to fill a 40-hour workweek sitting at my dinner table. While trying to make sure that my family is safe, fed and relaxed. I keep repeating to myself: “I am not working from home, I am at home, sheltering, and trying to work.” It should feel so that any work that gets done is a bonus. But it doesn’t. I feel an enormous pressure, I feel heavy guilt that I am getting paid, while others who need it so much more than I do, are jobless and without income. I feel that I have a social responsibility to ‘carry’ all that I can. Normally, when facing mental anxiety, I put on my running shoes and leave it all on the trail. So now I try to leave it all on the fitness mat, but that just does not cut it at this point.

So, I make sure the hours spent bent over books and papers brings food to more that just my table. And try to make sure that my extended family knows that as long as I can eat, they will too. And the ones that are even further away, feel hugged from afar.
My NL holiday was cancelled, I was supposed to fly out the 6th of April and it physically hurts. Even perspective has perspective. There is the internal perspective and the perspective with the outside world. Compared to the rest of the world, hell, the rest of my street, I have nothing to complain about. A DINK (double income, no kids) household, of which 2 jobs are still secure, with enough room to stay out of each other’s way during the workweek during lockdown, what am I even talking about. But internal perspective also has to do with expectation management. When moving here, the expectation and reality was that I would be able to go to NL every give or take 3 months to hug loves ones. And even though I realize it is champagne problems, the hurt of expectations not met, and tickets cancelled is real. Because I do realize that it is luxury problems, the guilt creeps back in and with it the feeling that no matter what I ‘give back’ is not enough. People actually knocking on my front door asking for food, “just a piece of bread!” make me feel like an evil person. Today I had an extra difficult time dealing with ‘uplifting’ and ‘motivational’ posts, telling me how I should let go and just let it flow and flip the switch to positivity any time I wanted. In this whole situation my gut has been spot on, every frikking time, without fault, so if my gut is feeling dread, that is just how it is.

With another two weeks of lockdown ahead, who knows what the situation will be. Of course we make the best of it, weekends in ‘at the beach’ in the inflatable pool, with the catkids, with Sunday bubbles and weekdays with high quality, locally sourced and varied food. But still, even though it feels weird, it is ok not to feel ok.

Stay safe, all!

The name of this blog is of one of my favourite songs of one of my favourite artists.

Saved message:
Hey, what’s up…Uh, I just lost it, at the end of the day I fucking lost it, I just blew up. My whole entire fucking apartment building. I told everyone to go fuck themselves. I just had a hard time today and uh, I don’t know…

[Verse 1: Jason Mraz]
Calm down
Deep breaths
And get yourself dressed instead
Of running around
And pulling on your threads
And breaking yourself up

[Bridge]
If it's a broken part, replace it
If it's a broken arm, then brace it
If it's a broken heart, then face it

[Chorus]

Hold your own
Know your name
And go your own way

And everything will be fine

[Verse 2]
Hang on
Help is on the way
And stay strong
I'm doing everything

[Chorus]
And hold your own
Know your name
And go your own way
Hold your own
Know your name
And go your own way
And everything, everything will be fine
Everything

[Verse 3]
Are the details in the fabric
Are the things that make you panic
Are your thoughts results of static cling?
Are the things that make you blow
Hell, no reason, go on and scream
If you're shocked it's just the fault
Of faulty manufacturing

[Bridge]
Everything will be fine
Everything in no time at all
Everything

[Chorus]
And hold your own
Know your name
And go your own way
Hold your own
Know your name
Go your own way

[Verse 4]
(Hold your own) Are the details in the fabric (know your name)
Are the things that make you panic
(Go your own way)Are your thoughts results of static cling?
Are the details in the fabric (Hold your own, know your name)
Are the things that make you panic (Go your own way)
Is it Mother Nature's sewing machine?
Are the things that make you blow (Hold your own, know your name)
Hell no reason go on and scream
If you're shocked it's just the fault (Go your own way)
Of faulty manufacturing
Everything will be fine
Everything in no time at all
Hearts will hold

[Spoken outro: James Morrison]
New message:
Yo, what’s up man? I, uh, I don’t know, I just wanted to say that, uh, everything’s cool with me now. I mean, I just think, I think I’ll always be funky, can’t stop being funky, but I guess we just deal with it how it comes, deal with the humps, take the jumps. I feel like you’re an island of reality in an ocean of diarrhea. And I love you buddy. Ok. Bye