Welcome. Back in the spring, when we changed the name of this newsletter from “At Home” to “At Home and Away,” we did so expecting that our plans for the foreseeable future would involve continual tinkering. The Time Spent At Home to Time Spent Away ratio was not an exact formula; it would change frequently, subject to myriad variables. The ideal scenario, in which one stays as near to home or roams as far from it as one pleases, was, and continues to be, a way off.

These past few weeks, we’ve been reminded (again!) that progress toward this goal is not linear. There’s no straight path from not-normal to normal. It’s twisty, pocked with potholes, drawn out by detours, roadwork ahead.

I keep coming back to a poem that I first mentioned here last March, David Ferry’s translation of Horace’s ode “To Licinius.” These lines keep coming back to me — when a long-anticipated trip is shelved indefinitely, when my family decides to postpone gathering for the holidays — whenever well-laid plans are unlaid in an instant:

Always expect reversals; be hopeful in trouble,

Be worried when things go well. That’s how it is

For the man whose heart is ready for anything.

It’s true that Jupiter brings on the hard winters;

It’s also true that Jupiter takes them away.

If things are bad right now, they won’t always be.

Apollo isn’t always drawing his bow;

There are times when he takes up his lyre and plays,

And awakens the music sleeping upon the strings.

Reading this poem is one activity helping me hold it together lately. I was glad to hear from readers this week about the things they’re doing to get by. (Submissions have been edited for length and clarity.)

Robin Berman in Briarcliff Manor, N.Y., wrote, “Instead of turning on the news first thing in the morning, I listen to music, either jazz or classical. Once I’ve had my coffee and done some stretching, I turn on the news.”

From Kimberlee Love in Sewickley, Penn., comes advice to get up and move: “Heeding my Fitbit’s hourly reminder to log 250 steps every hour forces me to get up from my desk and take a drink of water,” she wrote. “It gives my tired eyes a break from my laptop’s screen. I look out every window I pass and notice the birds and squirrels going about their busy day or the neighborhood kids walking to or from school. And when I sit back down, I’m surprisingly refreshed, sometimes even inspired in some way.”

“As things began to seriously shut down in 2020, I bought a few more bird feeders and learned how to make my own suet,” wrote Anna Berry from Portland, Ore. “I sit at my living room window on the couch, binoculars in hand, and watch the enchanting little creatures that visit on a regular basis. I’ve counted up to 28 different species.”

And Ed Bogdan in Ashburn, Va., reports, “I have become a Climate Reality Leader and am in continuous contact with other ‘leaders’ throughout the world. Speaking with others who care and who are doing something for change bolsters my spirits. When I hear firsthand how others much younger than I care and have begun constructive activities, I become more hopeful. By helping them, I help myself, and restore my hope for the future.”

P.S.

• Check out the winners of the 2021 Architectural Photography Awards.

• Hrishikesh Hirway’s song about losing his mother, “Between There and Here,” is lovely. It features Yo-Yo Ma on cello.

• Reddit Reads finds the most recommended books on Reddit. It’s pretty neat, especially if you have very specific interests: You can see the books Redditors recommend on, say, foraging, or lucid dreaming, or fountain pens.

Tell us.

Have a tip for holding it together these days? Send it to us: athome@nytimes.com. Include your full name and location and we might include your contribution in an upcoming newsletter. We’re At Home and Away. We’ll read every letter sent. As always, more ideas for how to pass the time appear below.

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