The Oxford dictionary defines “normal” as typical, usual or ordinary; what you would expect. There’s much about our daily life that is just that. Granola for breakfast. A sandwich for lunch. An evening walk around the neighbourhood. Then there are the many ordinary activities ––shopping for groceries, visiting the dentist, standing in line at the bank –– that still feel anything but normal. Unusual degrees of caution, discomfort and distress continue to stretch our systems as we wait for a ticket at the butcher or walk into a coffee shop to pee. On the flip-side, once otherwise ordinary activities such as lunch with a friend or a drinks on a patio now feel positively special. Last night, over lobster rolls and kettle chips in our neighbour’s kitchen, I thought to myself, this isn’t normal, this is better than normal; this is normal with gratitude. This is normal with relief. This is normal with appreciation. So, I’m not sure that normal is so ordinary, after all. Normal is fraught. Normal is hard. Normal is beautiful and amazing.