It’s April 1 2020. We are at the beginning of a global epidemic.
I’m standing in the kitchen biting down on a half-burned piece of toast smeared with a generous lather of Irish butter, with a glass of Chianti in my left hand, wearing my favourite 501 Levi’s and a bright red lip while my french-inspired ooh la la playlist is humming in the background from the corner of my new office.
Due to my low tolerance levels, I’m already a little tipsy after a few sips and am thoroughly enjoying watching my cat chase a fly around the living room. I keep wondering if I’m going to leave these weeks with a dependency as I’ve used wine as a calming tool and it has become one of my 5 food groups: vegetables, fruit, protein, chocolate and wine, this past week. At the same time, I feel strangely grateful for the fly. For him finding his way in and entertaining the two of us for a little while.
I notice how I’ve stilled and become more present lately. How the tiniest things bring me joy at the moment. Maybe this pandemic isn’t such a bad thing from a broad perspective. Maybe it’s the answer to all our prayers.
I’m sleeping deeper than I have in a long time. Only the most essential things feel important, and I have the time and focus for them. I’m intrinsically motivated, meaning I only do the things I want to, and not any of the things I don’t want to. Because, as it turns out, they don’t matter.
All I want is to be creative. I made this little video for you of my new home, with a story about my transition and how I’m handling all the changes:

I find it so difficult to do anything “productive”. My body resists every time I try to sit down to admin tasks and processes. So instead I read novels purely for entertainment. I take my time making the cacao that I brought back from Mexico each morning. I get dressed up to leave the house, even if it’s just for a baguette. Having flowers at home has become a priority.
My days have a strange flow. No day is the same and I can’t seem to do more than 2 hours of work each time. My attention span is reserved solely for creative, fun, playful things. I don’t think this is a coincidence. I think this is an invitation.
Be slow. Let this distract you. Let it change how you think and how you see the world. Because the world is our work. And so, may this tragedy tear down all our faulty assumptions and give us the courage of bold new ideas.”

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