There was probably more time spent on the phone this week than in the last six months put together. Several calls with friends and family. Mostly ok to good. Verbal skills are definitely going downhill with all of this isolation.
The words that were exchanged are blurred together, much of the information forgotten, only the gist of feelings exchanged remain. Details that used to matter so much now slip like silk.
I feel like myself with cloth, and safe. Possibilities fill the spaces of not knowing, instead of anxiety and imagined incriminations. When it doesn't work, it's ok. There's a knowing that things can change, be layered on, or be chalked up to being an experiment or experience, not a waste. It's all time with cloth.
It's swell to be in this relationship with cloth. I'm still work at getting to this kind of kindredness and kindness with myself.
I am getting better at listening.