Sunday #7: The Sunday Beat

This post was written on Sunday, 3/1/2020.

I am sitting at my home office computer at 8:15 on Sunday morning. My boyfriend is still sleeping in the bedroom, but I think I just heard him fart, masturbate, or both.

Good morning.

I like getting up early, which is a good thing, because I don't really have much choice about it. I wake up naturally between 5-6am every morning, and I usually get out of bed to avoid the lucid dreams that come about when I am not fully asleep anymore. They aren't bad dreams, just uncomfortable, where I am usually faced with some frustrating obstacle that I cannot wrap my head around. All these dreams are vividly detailed, which fascinates me. The brain is an awesome thing.

Most days I will meditate and do deep breathing as soon as I rise, followed by a short stretching routine or some yoga. I will then make myself a matcha tea latte with some protein powder and read the paper online until the sun begins to rise.

I love being up as the sun rises.

My boyfriend just got up and informed me, after I inquired, that he had neither farted nor masturbated. I believe him on the latter but not on the former. I know a fart when I hear one.

***
The newspaper these days are full of dire news, and yet I feel the need to be informed minimally at the least. The news, dire as it is, does not make me anxious; I feel calmed by information because I then am somewhat prepared to respond. We don't really like surprises, do we?

The couples I work with in my office universally report that they would rather know a bad conversation is waiting for them at home than to walk directly into one without notice. I suspect this is so because surprises, whether they are good or bad, trigger our reptilian brains into feeling startled, ambushed, and threatened.

Today, the newspaper informs me about the spread of coronavirus, the upcoming primary elections, and the latest misstep by President Motherfucker. The last two topics pale in importance to the first--everyone seems to love having something to panic about, do you notice?

I am not panicking about coronavirus--but I am prepared to respond, I think. I am washing my hands more often, avoiding public transit if I can, and thinking about offering teletherapy to any of my clients who feel nervous about coming out to my office for sessions. Other than that, life will go on as usual.

***
At the age of 57, I have lived through a public health crisis or two. I have noticed that the government response is often disproportionate to the actual threat--in the 80's President Reagan waited years before even mentioning AIDS, and still did nothing about it during his presidency despite tens of thousands of deaths. In the 70's Legionnaires Disease took the lives of a handful of primarily white men in Philadelphia, and the CDC immediately launched the largest investigation in history to determine the cause.

Sometimes I don't think the people in charge know what the fuck they are doing.

***
As a species, humans like to feel "safe". There is nothing wrong with this. But today, we look for safety from outside sources, mostly because few of us got a sense of safety from those who were initially responsible for providing it to us.

Some people may be comforted by the declaration by President Motherfucker that "we have this under control", but I am not. I find comfort in the hard science that is available about what is really going on--in other words, false comfort is no comfort to me. That is one reason I gave up religion years ago. I want to know what I am facing so I can face it as prepared as possible. Sometimes, even when you are close to the source, you can come away with the wrong information.

Sitting ten feet from our bedroom this morning, I thought I heard my boyfriend fart and masturbate, but in truth I was only correct by half. Only a minor adjustment to my preparations was required. I feel prepared.