the beginning of isolation-light in the darkness

Another post from The Now.


On Tuesday our provincial government dropped the other boot I’d been waiting for for what seems like weeks, but really only been seven to ten days.

That boot was word of a new isolation order, which I can’t help but feel should actually be called isolation-light as we’re not in the full lock down mode we entered into during the first wave of the pandemic, but something more refined and selective than the wholesale closures that occurred the last time. I’m not going to debate the merits, as it is what it is (remember I said not so very long ago that one of my survival skills has been to accept things I cannot change and move on? Well this is one of those scenarios), and why would I consider allowing any more angst into my life in a what is already a very stressful time? Additionally, my employment requires that I consider all perspectives of the parties who come to the table, to seek to understand their version of the truth, and how that might motivate their behaviour, even when I don’t necessarily agree with their actions or conduct. It has become an inescapable reality for me, because of my work, I have been learned to keep an open mind in order to be respectful of differing perspectives, regardless of any of my personal biases (an occasional annoyance to be explored in a post for another time).

hoping isolation-light isn’t going to feel this way
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numbness – part one: the sensation junky and moments of clar·i·ty (ˈklerədē)

You may remember that not so long ago I mentioned I was numb from my time in The Boil? Well the truth is, I’ve been numb most of my life, but it was in The Boil that the numbness was slowly killing me.

On occasion during university, or after an infatuation gone bad, I would find myself so emotionally impacted or inspired that I was swimming in emotion, I called these moments of clarity in which I felt and could understand the world.

my other neglected artistry put to work while sailing in the caribbean
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the spark (spärk)

Over the years, my desire to write ebbed as The Boil did it’s work on me; my Artistry became numb and then inert. The COVID-19 pandemic lead me to rediscovering that Artistry, and this post explains how it came to be reignited.


Thanks in part to both the warming weather and the decline in new daily COVID cases, by the end of June, locally we started to emerge partially from The Pause as our world reopened with restrictions. My partner and I identified we were wrung out of energy and joy. To address this, we elected to take some much needed vacation time. 

In the five months since our last vacation to Mexico, the world and life I knew to be normal faded away. My work days became filled with interacting with clients who needed answers to situations we had never encountered before. Questions were asked of me that I didn’t have immediate answers for, that required that I collaborate with my team to discover organizational positions on topics. It was a lot of work to stay current with our changing world, and our work was harder than anything we’d done before. I’m not going to dwell on my work world as a focus of this blog, so I hope it will suffice to say, that after five months of a routine that included daily Zoom calls to update on COVID’s impact and tackling the problems of the day that demanded consistency provincially, I needed a break, big time, and my volunteering endeavours had not reopened sufficiently enough to provide an escape from my frustrations and stress.

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