Content and Unsettled

This was the answer my soul friend gave when I asked her how she felt about something going on in her life right now.

I was immediately struck by her response. Content and Unsettled. Yesssss…. Something started going off inside me when she said it. Content and Unsettled.

That so beautifully sums up so many of the ANDS I am living in, so many of us are living, during the time of Covid.

Content and Unsettled.

I told her the word content, to me, means satisfied, full, okay, grateful, it feels abundant, it says this is enough.

Unsettled feels a little nervous, like things have been moved around unexpectedly and I am not quite sure how I feel about it yet.

I guess the difference is for me there is an element of certainty for me here as well. I know exactly how I feel about some of this change, sad. A deep raking sadness. One more AND exists for me.

My answer to how are you feeling in the time of Covid would maybe be closer to;

Content, Unsettled, and Grieving.

I have a well of gratitude so deep for the lessons that only a global trauma could have taught me. I am grateful for time and space that did not exist because we did not make it before. I am grateful for what has been churned up, for the shift in myself, my family, and parts of the collective. Priceless. This whole experience has been of value beyond measure.


I feel ill at ease in some moments due to uncertainty.


My grief feels bottomless at times.


To be able to say these things though, and feel these feelings all at once; to stand in the middle of a massive trauma experience and know I have me and all of this can exist together, and I will survive just as I always have.. To know it will not take me 20 years to process this grief, I am here now holding it with my joy and uncertainty. This is a safety the likes of which I have never known.

No checking out. No carrying the burden of unprocessed grief forward. No more self-abandonment. No more playing the victim.

Just Love. And Truth. And Feeling it all. And being gentle. And Being here in it.

Content and Unsettled and Grieving.

You nailed friend. Fucking nailed it.


I taught my one year old not to go to the playground.

Those were the thoughts that flashed across my mind while we walked around the playground today picking up peanut shells, cypress nuts, and acorns.

Pre-Covid we went to the playground at least once a day, often two or three times when the weather was temperate. We live across the street from, what we think is, the prettiest park in our community; two ponds, tons of trees, an open meadow, a basket ball court, and a playground half shaded by an old Live Oak.

We chose our home partly based on its close proximity to this park. We are making our plans for our forever home based on our close proximity to this park. We love this park.

Even before we were pregnant we would sit on the bench in front of the second pond under the shade of the Laurel Oaks and day dream together about bringing our one-day-baby to this park and that playground.

Now, a year into his life, I have trained my son not to go to the playground.

He completely ignored it as we walked all around the Live Oak looking for nuts to throw into the pond. He ignored it as we took turns sitting on Cypress knees, trying to find the perfect seat. He ignored it as we looked at the baby frogs by the water’s edge. We walked one big circle around his number one favorite place in the neighborhood pre-Covid and it was as if it didn’t even exist. And it broke my heart.

I have said No, honey I am sorry we cannot go to playground, so many times he has stopped asking. The tantrums were few and small, they ended quickly. Now he doesn’t even ask, he doesn’t even acknowledge the desire that I know is still there, to go and play. Oh my God, it breaks my fucking heart.

I hate that I have trained my one year old not to go to the playground!

What is a playground without play anyway?