Remember these words: be kind. Be kind to yourself, be kind to others. We are all feeling the strain of social distancing and self-isolation. Things are not normal, and they won’t be for some time. Kindness is how we survive.
Last week, I sat down to write a blog post and couldn’t do it. I just… didn’t have enough focus to put the current situation into words: all the unknowns about COVID-19, the growing fear of getting it and spreading it to others, the sheer horror that this thing is gripping most of the world at the same time. Anything I tried to write instantly felt disingenuous and wrong. I put it away.
As social distancing became our main weapon against the coronavirus, this introvert thought it would be business as usual. It is not. There’s no way it can be. So we adapt.
I video-chatted with my friends on Saturday: just to see everyone and hear their voices is sustaining. It isn’t a permanent substitute, but it is a good alternative. When church suddenly becomes a streaming event, and you don’t have your dose of weekly fellowship, you need something. You need to call friends and family. You need to write emails. You need to shout-talk encouragement to your friend over an invisible 10 ft barrier. You need to laugh and find the silver linings – there is no.
Confession: my anxiety spiked Sunday morning. I was having trouble with Zion PCA‘s facebook stream. Frustrated, I made myself go downstairs to take my laundry out of the washer… to find my neighbors were down there. They had taken my stuff out and dumped it in the dryer. Under ordinary circumstances I am usually friendly — even though I highly suspect this couple has been vaping in the building. But Sunday, stressed out and panicky, I could only think about how they were touching my clothes in a global pandemic. I grabbed my clothes (they were delicates so I wasn’t going to use the dryer) and hustled back upstairs.
They must have thought I was a total unfriendly witch. As they were the only humans I saw in person that day, I regret how I behaved. I didn’t scream at them. I was just… unable to handle that interaction with grace. My hackles went up and all I could think about was the virus and people not keeping their distance, touching my clothes. (And people vaping indoors during a pandemic…) Fight or flight.
Anxiety is exhausting. It drains me faster than an old iPhone battery. It makes me question everything about myself and how the world perceives me. I scold myself for talking too much. It amplifies my fear of current circumstances, makes me grumble under my breath when I see large families still taking their kids on walking tours of the Capitol. Social media, particularly Twitter, is rife with anecdotes of boredom or selfishness. National news – mixed with political talk from all sides – is too much for me to handle. I have to stay away. I don’t want to drown.
My coping mechanism yesterday was to nap. To prod myself to get up and eat lunch while watching an episode of Star Trek: Voyager. It revived me enough to sit for an hour and write. What I wrote amounts to little more than a throwaway scene, but it felt better to have written it, to have at last spent time with characters I love. Art is a refuge. I can’t treat it like work right now.
I also have to focus on the day ahead of me, not a projected eighteen-month worse-case scenario. Not the economy. Not things I can’t change. I have to find those silver linings and those moments of grace. I’ll share a few:
🔸 Today I officially start as the Staff Assistant in the Financial Examination division! I am no longer the receptionist. It’s the same department (Dept of Insurance), but a promotion to a new division. It might just be easier to learn my role with more people telecommuting and fewer people physically in the office. Wish me luck!
🔸 Spring is here. Walking outdoors revives my spirit. And birdsong is a sweet comfort. House finches, cardinals, chickadees, robins, blue jays, mourning doves, woodpeckers (tapping away on a branch somewhere) are living proof that the world is alive and that I’m a part of it.
🔸 Baking cookies and bread and simmering a broth on the stove all weekend does wonders for the soul.
🔸 My cat. I’m so glad to have her with me.
🔸 I’m grateful for technology, especially video chats with friends. And, yes, streaming television and podcasts. (I’ve been listening to Office Ladies podcast and rewatching episodes of The Office – exactly what I need right now.) If this had happened in the ’90s, we would have had a difficult time coping. Internet wasn’t a staple back then.
In fact, we had a taste of it in Nebraska in 1997. The October storm wiped out power and cancelled school (and Halloween) for about a week. We had no internet to miss back then, but we did venture over to Nannie’s (who had power) and watched too much television. It was an inconvenient vacation, not a long-term crisis. Anyway, I digress.
🔸 I’m grateful for a daily routine, even if I’d rather avoid the coronavirus at home. (The department has reduced down to essential personnel On the weekends, I’m going to have to tighten up a routine, so I don’t lose my mind. I do not want a repeat of Sunday.
🔸 My mother works at Methodist Hospital in Omaha, and is a figure of competence and calm in this storm. We’ve not reached peak outbreak levels, but she and her colleagues are getting ready. Both of my parents worked in intensive care situations for decades, and I am proud of them. Mom will soon be on the front lines – be thinking of her.
I will try to update Joy & Moxie more regularly during this anxious season. Readers, I hope you’re safe and healthy. Leave comments here so I know how you are. We need each other.
Be kind! 😊
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