I could just as well have used the letter “F” in this blog post. As in “F” is for Focus. Or “F” is for frustration. I say that because I’ve been frustrated and distracted these past couple of weeks, leading to a lack of focus on this blog of mine. Hence the reason I failed to publish a post last week.

But back to the word “distraction”.

When I googled it (you know, to help me to focus), I found two definitions: 1) a thing that prevents someone from giving full attention to something else, and 2) Extreme agitation of the mind or emotions.

These days, I’m relating to both of these descriptions.

That’s because there is something, something very good mind you, that in this past week has prevented me from giving my full attention to blogging.

But in this post I can’t not talk about the turmoil going on out there in our country and our world. The “something very bad” distraction. The distraction that is exemplified by the extreme agitation of my mind and emotions right now: more black lives being extinguished by whites. The thought of Covid-19 cases spiking everywhere with all the protests that resulted from the sheer and justifiable anger of the murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis (and the multiple murders by police and white supremacists in other places in recent years). Chaos everywhere with more to come. And a completely inept administration at the helm.

It’s overwhelming and heart wrenching for all of us, most notably the black community. I’m working out how best to respond, because I feel it’s imperative to do so. To find a way to be a helper. To support the fight for racial justice and combat racism in America. I will donate financially to the cause. I’ve signed a petition online to demand an overhaul of policing in this country. And of course, I will keep praying about it. And I will remain open to suggestions on other ways to respond in a useful way.

So putting out a peppy little blog post last week wasn’t in the cards for me. And this week it’s a challenge, but as you can see, I’m doing it anyway.

The “something very good” distraction for me (and Hubs) right now, is that in honor of our 30th wedding anniversary and because we were itching to re-connect with our outdoorsy sides, we bought a new camper.

Yes, that one, physically tangible thing that I’ve had a picture of on my vision board since I first created it. It’s ours now. A second home, just on wheels.

So in the midst of this unprecedented moment in American history, we are blessed with the ability to be able to pack up our camper and head out to explore the wonder of nature in Colorado and beyond.

This is the part of the post where I was going to wax on about the responsibility of owning a camper. The time, physical, and mental energy that we have spent on obtaining it, getting it set up, and trying to find a storage unit for it as well as a campground that actually has openings in the age of Covid-19.

But in the scheme of things, that would be fucking ridiculous. I am white. I have a roof (now two) over my head. Gainful employment. The ability to safely exist in public. Health care. Essentially much of what too many in the black community don’t have. Which is completely unfair and needs to change.