“Mom, are we going anywhere today?” I admit I literally laughed out loud at my son’s complete oblivion to the crisis the rest of the world is experiencing. “Um no, we’re not. Have you not noticed we haven’t gone anywhere for weeks?” I’m not sure if I’m introverted or extroverted. I know I have an unusually high tolerance for both complete solitude and silence, as well as for living in close quarters with various communities and enjoy the presence of people. I crave each of these at various seasons. My initial reaction to being ordered to stay home was, honestly, amazement. I get to cross everything off my calendar and spend exorbitant hours with my family?! I get to have time to pray, meditate, go on walks, talk to my husband, play with my kids, write, think, breathe, plant our garden?! A couple weeks in though and the amazement had quickly faded. I was irritated by everything, hadn’t gotten to hardly anything I thought I would, felt overwhelmed by the tiniest tasks, and had an overarching feeling of weariness and guilt. It seemed like each day I thought of another population of people who were being affected by the Coronavirus- the sick, the dying, the families of those sick and dying, the frontline workers, the people who live completely alone, the people who live with abusive people, the newly unemployed, the previously unemployed, immigrants, and just the many, many people who don’t have a high tolerance for being in solitude or with people all the time. My list went on and on and my guilt grew greater and greater. How could I enjoy all the benefits I wanted to take advantage of, when so many others were suffering so intensely? How could I point out some positive aspects of this historical time without offending or overlooking the very real harmful aspects? Then, like a revelation, I remembered a topic about grief that I learned. It is common when someone experiences loss, for others who have not experienced that loss, to not want to talk about it or bring it up- ie if someone loses a parent, others may be hesitant to talk about their great relationship with their parent, as if that would further hurt the loss. Actually, the opposite is usually true. Many who have experienced loss will feel a small comfort to see others not taking what they no longer have for granted. Me being miserable and feeling guilty about the crises happening to so many others does absolutely nothing but add misery to misery. My increased gratitude for my family, land, my husband’s secure job, my children’s complete innocence, maybe can be a very, very small balm on a hurting world.
I am still amazed that we did this- our country that values capitalism and the economy seemingly above all else- we stopped. We actually do value something more- life, even elderly, weak, “unproductive” life. I can hardly believe it. And what else is happening? Our world is healing- the sky, the seas, the land- I can almost feel our precious earth taking a big breath of fresh air and for the first time in decades being allowed to rest instead of constantly drained of all it has to give. I’m hoping for many other fruits from this time of global pause. Only time will tell, but I’m hoping that individuals have discovered their happiness doesn’t come from material “stuff,” the next vacation, or even the next activity. I’m hoping that families have reconciled old wounds and begun to forgive. I’m hoping our culture has begun to re-assess our priorities. I’m hoping children learn they are loved and worthy because they are loved and worthy, not because they are a star athlete, get good grades or just plain over-achieve. I’m hoping being forced to live simply for a while, many of us can continue to live simply- to cook more, play more, connect more. I’m hoping that the stark realization that we aren’t as in control as we like to believe, will keep us aware that our lives are fragile and precious. I don’t hope for these things in a “let’s just look to the positive” kind of way. I actually should write a whole blog post on how I believe the modern trend to “be positive” while attempting to ignore the “negative” is a very unhealthy and harmful response to pain and suffering. I hope for all these things and more, while I also hold close and grieve for the very real pain being experienced by many. I believe in some mysterious way it is possible to hold both sorrow and joy, both trial and hope, real hope that is. I know this, not from theory, but from experience. I will continue to try to express my gratitude and thankfulness for what I have in order to try to honor those who are experiencing loss.