Restrictions
When I lived and taught in the UAE for three months I dealt with being told what to wear, what to say, how to conduct myself in public and also to use insha Allah which literally translates as if god wills it but can be interpreted to mean I will do my best and in the case of the administrators in my school, don’t count on it. Deadlines were essentially a western idea. When we handed our passports over to Mubarek who spent his days not getting us things, there was no firm answer to the question, “When do you return my passport?”
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How to Access Creativity During a Quarantine
Be absolutely accepting of everything. Don’t think that if you can’t work on your novel, business plan, budget, or taxes there is something wrong with you. Remember the last time you were unemployed? Did you learn a new language, yoga poses, sign language, how to make beef Wellington? No. You played Words with Friends, you watched videos of cats slapping dogs, you stared into space and then since there was a mirror in front of you decided to cut your own bangs. Don’t do that. Leave your hair alone. And don’t paint a room or varnish anything. Put down that credit card and cancel the cart full of stretchy, New Age, muted outfits. Walk outside. Get your heart beating harder—if you can’t go outside, access your stairwell and do some flights, anything to get your blood moving, your brain suffused with energy.
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How to Find Serenity
When I was newly sober, a long time ago, I did a bunch of stupid things. I went on a date with a guy who plied me with coffee in his condo in Jersey City until I actually overdosed on caffeine and had an anxiety attack that sent me into the street having a panic attack like I’d not experienced since my sister had died. I called my sponsor and she asked me a question, “How much coffee have you had?” My answer, ”Too much.” And, “Why are you dating?” which was an important question as I’d recently left a physically and mentally abusive marriage and ten minutes into any date, no matter how much I liked the guy, his face morphed into my ex-husband’s and I frequently fled after ordering something I didn’t really want or like or need. I felt like I had to do something to justify my right to be alive.
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