Lacking Levity

 The thing I think I'm lacking most in this season of quarantine is not sociability (although I miss it dearly!). What I lack most is levity.

I've heard it often in the tone I use with my kids. In the way I stress about the little things, or obsess about things that don't matter. It comes out in ridiculous arguments with my husband. Where is the lightness? The joy? The ability to skim over the surface without getting bogged down in the muck and mire of life?

I didn't realize how much it was missing until this morning. My boys are working remotely today, since their middle school alternates in-person and in-school days. They hate remote days. Not only are they separated from friends, but working on their own through the material often leads to frustration. In the middle of a series of such frustrations, I held up my hands.

"Boys, into the dining room, please. Now."

They came in, assuming they were in trouble. 

"Spread out. Close your eyes--actually, never mind. Keep them open so you can see me. Now, hands together in front of you. Lift your leg, and hold the pose..."

We went on to do the most ridiculous, most amateur session of tai chi-ish yoga we've ever seen. Which, naturally, meant we were falling all over, pretending to karate chop one another, and laughing too hard to hold any kind of pose. 

It was a moment of levity.

And it changed the whole atmosphere in our home.

May your day be filled with little oases of whatever brings some levity: tai chi, a good book, or the ability to laugh at yourself when you walk into the corner of the cabinet yet again. May you find a way to start skimming over the top of the muck and find joy, even in a season of pandemic.

Photo credit: https://unsplash.com/@sajad_sqs9966b