The grieving have only the unknown.
I know I’m stressed about everything going on because I am considering a new hobby that I absolutely do not have time for.
So instead I have watched several hours of videos about the best (insert highly specialised single-use tool here) to buy for (insert highly specialised projects I will never get to here).
And I’ve been reading fiction, the kind you can tear through on planes and trains in between intense work obligations.
Namely:
The Clocktaur War Series by T Kingfisher
A Wizard’s Guide to Defensive Baking by T Kingfisher
Witch King by Martha Wells
The Dangers of Smoking in Bed by Mariana Enriquez
I can only read like this - one book after another, beginning to end, in mere hours - when I am either utterly unfettered by deadlines and obligations or entirely consumed by the weight of the world. There is no in between.
We must each and all find a way to keep going.
Attribution:
The grieving have only the unknown.
It’s their only staple and inheritance.
Pain has no logic. All things redeem
the grieving except your rational questions.
— from I Suffer a Phobia Called Hope by Maya Abu Al-Hayyat translated by Fady Joudah