Tag Archive for: fear

In Limbo for the Holidays

Five days before leaving on our holiday journey my boyfriend tests positive for COVID.

I get the more trusted PCR 24-hour test to reassure myself that I can follow through with the holiday solo. 24-hours turns to 48-hours, and I’m now into the 72-hour stint awaiting test results.

So many people are in the same boat. Getting exposed and getting tested. Results are backed up and tension is rising.

The fall out…
I’m dis-invited to the 2-day solstice event that was to kick off my holiday journey.
Even if I test negative, another friend doesn’t want me to deliver her gift.
And, on top of this, it’s now too late to cancel my rent-a-car!

I’m in limbo for the holiday.

I can’t make plans or cancel them.

While I understand the fear of COVID. Right now, everyone’s afraid of ME by association. I represent both the fear of being exposed to COVID and having COVID (even if not confirmed yet). I’m understandably outcast.

Am I holding onto Christmas too tight? Or, am I just hungry for some kindness?

I believe: be the world you want to live in.

So, I try to keep Christmas alive with kindness. I deliver a holiday gift and supplies to my boyfriend daily, and drop off gifts to the friends who will accept them.

But the negativity of COVID repeatedly shadows my Christmas efforts. My light is dimming.

Being in limbo is being neither sick or healthy; neither wanted or unwanted. Although “limbo” reflects being out on a limb, it feels like the middle of a circle… trapped in emptiness.

I dutifully call the car garage to change my reservation.

Here’s where my story shifts…
She recognized me and thanked me for being a loyal customer. She took $100 off the new pick up date and said, “Let’s not do a down payment, so if you get a positive test result you can cancel without losing anything.”

Someone, I barely knew, said thank you and actively showed their gratitude to me in the midst of my crashing spirits!

Fear, disappointment, and uncertainty can cause us all to forget the power of active gratitude. Feeling gratitude isn’t enough. Saying thank you isn’t always enough. Live, act on, and share gratitude, especially with those who give the most!

Before that call to the car garage I felt very alone for the holiday. But, now I’m in the middle of the same circle of disappointments feeling celebrated.

Merry Christmas to everyone and may the spirit of your holiday shine light on the love you have for each other.

Tammy in Motorcycle Gear

A Weird and Wonderful NYC Motorcycle Ride

Tammy in Motorcycle GearLong summer treks out of city congestion balance my need for the open road. I’ve lived on a motorcycle in NYC traffic for 25-years.

How unusual to have open road around me when riding through midtown Manhattan. A summer trek right here on Broadway!

CoronaVirus has completely changed the landscape.

It’s an infectious landscape of silence and sirens. Fear-filled vulnerability has seeped into our soft tissues. The streets are near empty. A world is hiding to stay alive.

This feels weird. I’m used to feeling afraid of the world, even hiding from it at times. But, in this moment, there’s no immediate world to be afraid of. It’s surreal. I actually feel safer riding my motorcycle up Broadway than ever before.

As I continue up Central Park West, I hear sirens. Suddenly, I’m whipped back into the landscape I’m familiar with in NYC—traffic. But this time, I embrace the scene. Instead of people being in my way, I felt in their company.

My body feels like it’s riding into a gathering. My body isn’t fearing or dreading its environment. It’s curious about being together with people—having a shared experience.

This feels wonderful. I want to be in relationship with—in communion with—something real.

This is definitely not how I typically approach a NYC traffic jam!
This is definitely not how we feel approaching each other, masked with eyes down, since hit by this pandemic.

But, I have all my motorcycle gear on. No surgical mask necessary when wearing a full-face helmet!

I rode through familiar neighborhoods that day. Visiting a client’s courtyard who passed away from COVID-19, checking on houses of people out of town, and waving to doormen I used to see regularly. But nothing felt the same.

Usually my gear protects me from the world. On this day, it united me with it.
Usually my fear separates me from the world. On this day, it connected me to it.

How weird and wonderful to separate from my habit to fear. And for a moment, be curios about its impermanence, illusiveness and trickery.