Rain is falling outside of the window, the air fresh. A flash of light beam through my closed eyelids. Silently, automatically, I count the seconds until I hear the booming of thunder. Eleven seconds. Another flash comes soon enough and I count again. It is still eleven seconds.
Through the open window, the voices of the neighbours boys carry over the rain and thunder. They are excited, gripped by this welcome spectacle after so many dry days. I took a deep breath in and clear my mind. The rain is soothing from where I sit. Warm and dry, I am cocooned in my home, safe and secure.
I breathe in and out, pushing thoughts away but they keep creeping in, invading the forefront of my brain as if this moment of quiet was all the time I ever gave them. It is not. I hold the tension of focus, my breath becoming the most important thing in the world in this instant. In and out. Rise and fall.
The bell rings, startling me back into the study. Outside it is still raining. I roll my shoulders back and rest my body against the back of the sofa bed. I stare at the ceiling. Day one of regaining my routine, I think. Over the last few days, my routine has slipped away from me. My projects out of my mind as I dealt with my anxiety, with Black Lives Matters and its ramification through my life. I keep thinking of all the times I experienced racism in my current jobs and all those times I remained quiet unable to speak against it. Customers are king, aren’t they? Who am I to disagree with them in my uniform. I need to speak to my manager about this, more than in passing this time. I need to stop hiding behind my uniform and let it slide. But will my manager agree? I think she will as a human being. I am less sure of her answer as a representative of the business. Then what? One step at a time, I remind myself. I am not even back into work, have no idea when I will be.
I get off the sofa bed and return to the desk. I set alarms on the phone for the following day. 11am, exercise. 2pm language learning. 5.30pm meditation. I grab a piece of paper next to me and write down the various projects I’m working on, the ones I want to finish or make as much headway as possible into before my return to work. There, I think. It should help me refocus and be productive as I used to be. I close the laptop lid and head downstairs for the evening.