The new normal for me is that I'm living, everyday, with an acute sense of the fragility of life, of impermanence.
That feeling, that sense, manifests as
the anxious quiver of being that underlies all of our human attempts to drown it out or cover it over with addictions to anything and everything...and not just drugs, but all the things we do every day in our lives to avoid actually
being in the present moment.

Over the last few years I've made it a practice to remove all those distractions from my life, as many as humanly possible in this day and age, so that I can/could be present to exactly what's happening in the here and now.
And experiencing the
anxious quiver of being, or
the fundamental ambiguity of being human, is my ground of being now. I felt it now and then before BeeGee apparently-suddenly became an older cat, in moments of utter quietude. Now that I am taking care of this beautiful elder being, I'm living every day in this place of groundlessness.
My practice now is to learn to embrace it, to become comfortable with it, to do my life just as before, but with this inate shaky feeling in my heart and gut. And just be with it.
This sense of fragility, of vulnerability, of tenderness, of impermanence, of groundlessness...