Today is Wednesday, Day 134 in Bahrain’s coronavirus time, and day 99 of The Isolation Journals with Suleika Jaouad. Today’s prompt by Stacy London is “How do you get past pain? How do you let go of the illusion of control? How do you find meaning?”
Usually it takes me some time to give up control of my emotions. I’m a great non-crier. I envy my friends whose tears flow like the tap. When I feel grief and loss I’m often surprised with it because it sometimes happens years after a death or heartbreak. Then I can have a cleansing cry and deal with some of the pain. Writing helps. I have found poetry writing with the Ethical ELA group has been healing and exposing me to feelings I didn’t know I had.
In the fall of 2018, I lost my sister-in-law after a two-year battle with cancer. The next month, my own oldest sister died suddenly of a heart attack while hiking. I didn’t fly home for either death, and that made it harder too. So I’m still dealing with those losses.
Now with coronavirus there is more loss. Loss of life, in our dear Dr. Solomon, and loss of livelihoods, loss of visas, loss of homes, loss of time with friends, loss of healing relationships and church dinners and so many losses, losses, losses. It is getting sad and burdensome to be home so much. Because it’s our last year in Bahrain, I also have anticipated grief. It’s already starting, too. There are losses of our “lasts,” which are not really last because they don’t happen at all (like our last Easter sunrise service and our last ARS high school graduation).
As is my modus operandi, most of the time I’m just fine and carry-on, brave and productive. However, I’m sure I’ll have some retroactive grief to deal with in the future.
Time is so important. I’ve never considered myself an artist, but I have learned by dabbling in visual art, 
It’s hot and humid in Bahrain, the high temperature is above 100 F most all the days, now and into the foreseeable future. Today’s prompt for The Isolation Journals was to think about a time when nature provided the answer to a pressing question. For some reason, I thought back to February. Not February in Bahrain, where the average temperature is about 70 F, but I thought right away about a February in Iowa eight years ago. It’s been a long time since I’ve longingly thought of winter in Iowa.
It was one of those cold clear nights, with just the right wind a
There wasn’t really a pressing question that day, at least not one that was articulated. But choosing to be late that day has, over the years, been a reminder of sorts to “take time to stop and smell the roses.”
Even holidays here are filled with activities at church, so there really aren’t even metaphorical snow days.