About 10 days ago my psychiatrist said getting out and exercizing, even if it’s just walking a mile or two, is an essential curative action for my depression and grief. Despite my new 20mg Lexapro subscription, I’ve been spending about half my days in bed, in a darkened room, feeling bad, so I decided today to take this advice to heart.

El Museo is small and friendly and all about how tough it was/is to be a Puerto Rican in New York. There are fewer but similarly inspired works by Dominican and Mexican Americans also.

I wish I could say spending a good 40 minutes considering the systemic oppression of Latinos made my personal problems seem small by comparison, but it didn’t. Aren’t all catastrophes essentially personal?

It was a nice experience and reason to get out of bed nonetheless. Kind people, good art, good restaurant, and the entrance to the area of Central Park with the formal garden and duck pond is right across the street.

I walked around the pond a bit despite the rain. That was the theme of my day: sometimes it rains; sometimes it’s dark and gray; whether it’s the weather outside or the weather in my mind, from now on I won’t let it stop me.

The obstacles I’m facing are pretty serious, but the world didn’t end today.