An Object at Rest

I got an email from a recruiter this week for a small college in Pomona, CA. It was the second one. The first had been fairly generic, a “we’re seeking the right candidate” etc. etc. and so I didn’t respond. The second was more targeted with my name in the salutation, though I know enough about mail and email merges to know that that doesn’t really mean anything. But still, this time I sent a brief reply of non-interest. When I got the first email, I did take a moment to look up just exactly where Pomona is, and it’s a lovely little community. It looks artsy, and perhaps most importantly in the midst of February doldrums, warm.

I am happy in my job (even though for the past couple of weeks there has been a stressor that I can’t really talk about that has reactivated my anxiety in terrible ways,) but when I looked at those pictures I confess I took a moment to imagine what it would be like to move to Pomona. There were palm trees in the pictures! And when you’re feeling kind of blah about everything in your life, it can be fun to imagine picking up and starting over. A new job. A new house. Palm trees! Real life me knows that moving, especially a long distance move, is stressful and kind of terrible and expensive and lonely, but imaginary me had a good five to ten minutes of thinking about a new life in California.

I’ve been seeking joy lately. It feels in short supply these days. I haven’t written about it but I hurt my back a few weeks ago. For about two weeks I was in constant pain and could barely walk at times. I had to stop going to the gym and I had to quit dance for this semester. Because of my injury and some work travel, I was going to miss too much class time and too much choreography to catch up. I’m not talented/skilled enough to learn that much choreography from videos. I can usually learn a small section, but three weeks worth of choreo can be almost a whole dance.

And man, I have missed dancing. I miss the people, my friends. And I’ve missed the gym, but that whole physics principle of “an object at rest stays at rest” is true of my body and my spirit, too. Every week I’ve said I was going to go to dance and just hang out with everybody for an hour, but every time class time rolls around I find I don’t have the wherewithal to get up off the couch. There’s a valentine’s dress-up potluck this weekend and I want to go, but I can already feel a small voice in the back of my head saying, “It’s too much work. You’ll have to stay out so late.” I feel pre-tired just thinking about it.¹

Something I learned after the pandemic is that sometimes when I’m feeling like I really don’t want to do something social, if I make myself do it I will be glad. Like, it’s just getting over that hump of the effort of getting ready, of making myself smile and be friendly until momentum starts to kick in and I can quit peddling and coast. I know it will make me feel better.

The whole of that physics principle I mentioned above is that an object at rest tends to stay at rest unless acted on by an outside force, and sometimes I have to be that outside force. I have learned that happiness, contentment, joy, even hope can grow by accretion, so I’m going to go to the party this weekend. I may not wear the costume I had planned because that feels exhausting to think about, but I am going to go. I am.

1. My back is better and I’m back at the gym, but I have to force myself to go.