A to Z Challenge: My theme this year is NYC before and during the COVID-19 pandemic.

YEARLONG EXPLORATION OF IMPERMANENCE: Shortly before the pandemic struck, a friend and I got the chance to catch an exhibit at the Rubin Museum of Art, on the Buddhist concept of impermanence. The exhibit was scheduled to run this entire year, hence, a year long exhibition. First, the Rubin is a beautiful museum “that stimulates learning, promotes understanding, and inspires personal connections to the ideas, cultures, and art of Himalayan regions.” Impermanence is the idea that everything changes. Learning to detach from the people and the things we love is an important lesson, according to Eastern philosophy. Relying on outside happiness that is only temporary, leads to heartache and suffering–which is why inner peace and inner happiness is a cornerstone of Buddhism. We gotta make our own happiness. It doesn’t mean we can’t love those around us, but we have to be able to continue forth with happiness if that person is no longer around, whether they’ve passed away or simply stepped out of our lives.

One of the things I enjoyed at the exhibit was The Letter Writing Project by artist Lee Mingwei. When his grandmother passed away, he still had so many things he want to say to her, but couldn’t. For the next year, he wrote many letters to her sharing his thoughts and feelings. In this interactive installation, he invites us into a wooden booth to write the letter we had always meant to, but never did. The booth contained everything one would need: paper, envelopes, and pencils. You could seal and address the letter (the museum would send it for you), or leave it open on the wall of the booth for others to read. At a later date, the letters left will be ceremoniously burned. My friend, who had lost her mother only a week earlier, found the process very cathartic. I wrote a note of love and gratitude to my dad. I hope to get the chance to revisit this exhibit later in the year.

YOGA PANTS: I have three pairs of yoga pants I’ve been rotating since the stay-at-home orders began. Below is a conversation between me and my jeans after a long hiatus:

Opens drawer.

JEANS: [squinting] Hey, what the hell?

ME: Sorry, that’s the sun.

JEANS: Yeah, I know. You could have knocked first. I need a minute.

[waits]

ME: Look, we need to go to the grocery store.

JEANS: What? Are your yoga pants too delicate for the streets of Brooklyn?

ME: [scoffs] No. Yoga pants are everywhere. This is Park Slope, remember?

JEANS: Oh, yeah. All right then, let’s do this.

[putting on jeans]

JEANS: I’m not here to squash one’s attempt at self-expression; I’m all for it, and you have to do what’s comfortable for you, but the zipper goes in front.

ME: Oh. The tag goes in back?

JEANS: Yep.

[takes jeans off and turns them around]

JEANS: I know there’s that whole front-butt trend—

ME: Mom jeans.

JEANS: Right. But—no pun intended—I’m not that pair.

ME: Yeah, I got that.

[zips and buttons jeans]

JEANS: Whoa, yoga pants might be meant for stretch, but I’m not, lady.

ME: Hey! Things have been turned upside down lately–give me break.

JEANS: What? Would it kill you to drop a few pounds during this pandemic?

[Unamused glare]

JEANS: Too soon?

ME: Too soon.

JEANS: All I’m saying, is maybe you need to lay off the Great British Bake Show.

ME: Hey, how do you know what I watch?

JEANS: Your underwear, one drawer up. They’re chatty.

ME: Excuse me?

JEANS: Just saying, they’re feeling the stretch, too.

ME: [gasp] You know, I forgot what a jerk you can be.

JEANS: Oh please, those yoga pants have gotten to you with all their hippy-dippy, you’re-perfect-the-way-you-are crap.

ME: Hey! Those yoga pants have been good to me.

JEANS: A little too good; blowing sunshine up your rear. Ask your underwear—they know.

ME: You know, I don’t even know why I thought this could work.

JEANS: Me neither.

[takes off jeans; muffled grunts from said pair of jeans; roughly folds up jeans and shoves them into a bottom drawer, far away from the underwear. Puts on yoga pants.]

YOGA PANTS: Was that pair of jeans not being nice to you?

ME: [pouts] Yeah. Mean Jeans.

YOGA PANTS: Well, you don’t need that negativity in your life.

ME: You’re right!

YOGA PANTS: You leave the stretch to me; I’m meant for times like these.

ME: Thanks, yoga pants.

YPGA PANTS: You bet. You’re perfect just the way you are.

[Settles on the couch with laptop to order groceries online]