They say that car crashes are down 75% here in metro Phoenix.

It’s been eerily quiet here under the Sky Harbor flight path.

The air is cleaner.

The clarity of the night sky has been breathtaking. The virus has unveiled the crisp glory of our desert stars.

I’m enjoying my Les Mills On Demand garage workouts so much that I’ve decided to cancel my gym membership. It’s unlikely that I’ll feel 100% comfortable in the gym over the next year, and I can always re-join at a later date. Meanwhile, I’m not going to miss the stress of getting to the gym on time, and I’ll be saving time, in general… along with money and gas.

Letting go of my social gathering place will not translate to letting go of my friends. There are other places than germ-infested gyms.

Our fur/scale babies are so delightfully sweet in their obliviousness. They have no idea what’s happening in the world around them; maybe this is why being with them is having an extra-soothing effect these days. Immersed in such moments, I’m discovering the extent to which innocence can be a healing balm.

The virus can’t eradicate innocence.

I’ve seen more of the best of humanity in the last few weeks than I’ve seen in my entire life. In the proverbial grand scheme of things, I’m witnessing the virus restore hope and faith.

[Odd side-note: I’ve been back on my hydroxycholoroquine for almost a month since I canceled my gum-grafting surgery, and now I’m hearing that hydroxycholoroquine has been approved for use as a treatment for the virus…?]

Also apropos to nothing, I’ve been baking more than usual.

The best vegan chocolate chip cookies, I swear.

My heart hurts for you who are suffering in any way due to the virus. Sending love and energy out to the universe to bless you all.