FOMO is over. Give in to the Joy of Letting Go

Found this article amusing and a little too true. Why would I get out the active wear after my Pilates zoom class when the rest of the day was dotted with walks.

As the days of quarantine drag on, many women are reveling in the relinquishment of high heels, painful waxes and constricting garments.

By Ruth La Ferla: NEW YORK TIMES

Self-seclusion, Week 1. I’d been planning to watch over the health of loved ones. But I’d also been looking forward to having time on my hands: long idle hours during which I’d administer liberal doses of self-love. Ordinarily that would have meant communing with my wardrobe, weeding out nonessentials, planing my skin to ageless perfection, trimming overgrown hair, tending to visible roots and trying to stick with a diet of ripe avocados and sprouts.

Week 2: I found myself ditching those overzealous routines for a rigorously streamlined plan of action. I’ve razed my hair to within an inch of my scalp: a monastic look, I know, but somehow in tune with my cloistered state. I’ve trimmed my nails to the quick, and discarded a cabinet full of salves and lotions in favor of “99 44/100 percent pure” Ivory soap.

Week 3: I’ve turned my back on the ascetic life, eating what I love: bananas in ripe quantities, dark chocolate, generous dollops of peanut butter mashed into just about everything. I’ve banished spandex and am wafting around my living space in an all-forgiving caftan, congratulating myself for dispensing with other peoples’ notions of what a woman looks like.

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