The Next Day, I Draw My Hand

A favorite neighborhood takeout place is Kona Kitchen, a funky, family-owned restaurant with a Hawaiian influence. Autographed photos of celebrities who have dined there paper the wall behind the cashier, and plastic leis and bobbly hula dancers are part of the décor. Only three blocks away, Kona Kitchen was one of our first takeout meals after we began sheltering in place.

I learned that both the owner and her husband recently perished within days of each other from COVID-19. I didn’t know them personally, but I knew of them. These deaths are no longer statistics we see daily in the news. They are literally very close to home.

During these daily hand meditations, I try to focus on gratitude, and I don’t have to work very hard to think of all the healthcare workers (whom I very gratefully haven’t had to depend on to save my life yet), food store employees, mail carriers and even trash collectors who keep my life as normal as possible.

Other days, I don’t feel gratitude. Some people on social media have made it their crisis mission to induce their followers to be positive and share expressions of gratitude. Some days, I feel nothing but grief, anger, fear and other feelings that I am not invited to share on social media. I feel whatever I feel, even if it isn’t gratitude, and then I move on. The next day, I draw my hand again.