To Faff, or Not to Faff

 January 13, 2022

 

On the third day of faffing, Wednesday Jan 5, bliss shifted to anxiety. 

 

It began subtly. I’d had another day of reading and chatting. I only moved from the black futon to get food and drink. I watched news, debates, and witnessed the ugliness of the UP elections unfold. Hard to believe that election issues in this century and after two years of covid devastation centered around destroying mosques and building temples. On Muslim hatred and not on economics and re-building lives. Something painful entered the cleared inner spaces. That evening I spoke to my mum in Bombay and had to tell her that I wouldn’t visit her at the end of the month as planned. Then when? Her question brought back the uncertainties of the year. 

 

Nothing was done. Covid still dominated outer plans and affected my internal landscape. And I had received feedback, some great suggestions, on chapter two, and it had to be worked on. My body looked still but restlessness overtook as anxieties flooded the mind. Yet, I wasn’t ready to move back to that hectic, tense time. I still needed to detox and feel mentally freer. 

 

I tried to stay in that ‘relaxed’ state the next day as I got a haircut, ate a bowl of ramen, and walked into Tokyu Hands, but I was delaying what a part of me had already figured out. I wasn’t relaxed, I mean I could be for short periods, but I was still dealing with the losses that covid has brought us all. The uncertainty, the anger, and depression. The constant anxiety of wondering when, if ever, all the ‘stopped things’ could be moved ahead with again. The effort of trying to stay well, of giving up at times, and then wondering if one has covid as the sniffles and throat soreness begin. 

 

So many friends are sick with omicron, in USA and India. Still waiting to know if it is mild or if it has serious long-term effects. Not clear if the current rapid tests detect this variant. If it is the last variant of concern or another more virulent one will emerge. Boosters, no boosters. Not possible to take a break from all these thoughts. Different but also the same stuff as 2020. Need to breathe in and out when they overwhelm and hope they will pass. 

 

Still wondering how people are coping. I find I can get lost in a book but by the time I close the pages something of the present lack of hope has snuck in. 

 

By Friday I knew it wasn’t possible for me to faff. The empty mind bred, multiplied, things the busy mind had not. Truly the need is to balance busy hours with relaxation. Pure faffing is not possible for me yet. That much relaxing might lead to too much awareness of the endless loop, and result in instability, temporary insanity. But I resisted rushing into work. 

 

This week I find my mind drifting into numbness. The spikes of feelings that some events create die down immediately into the doldrum-ic plains of existence. The sharpness of pain when a photograph with an insensitive comment arrives in the inbox, or the simple pleasure of seeing the karate family on the country heads zoom, fade quickly. I said I would write about those events and feelings, but they vanished like marks in the sand on a windy day, and I found myself saying, nothing happens anymore, I have nothing to journal about or blog about. 

 

I need to sit up and anchor those fleeting, fleeing, feelings. Next week I experiment with finding balance. Between emptiness and plans. Not yet free of covid mind. 

 

Wish I had something lighter, happier to report. Well, I will end by telling you about two incredible books I read. Matrix by Lauren Groff and The Sentence by Louise Erdrich. Now I will brew and drink green tea with Kashmiri spices and draw cute cats doing silly things.