I’m no Hemmingway, but I am trying to get the creative
juices flowing…because that is the kind of thing you are supposed to do during a
quarantine. Right? It feels like there is an expectation that you
have do something meaningful, big or important, so you can emerge from your quarantine
cocoon a beautiful butterfly. Build an
addition to your home, learn a new language, train for a marathon, lose 30
pounds, develop a cure for cancer, help your fifth grader graduate early, write
a novel…
Friends, I have done none of this. In fact, when this is all said and done, I
may not physically be able to burst out of my cocoon because I will be in a
carb coma, will have no upper (or lower) body strength, and my butt will be
asleep for sitting too long.
But, I am attempting to write. Quite possibly, this post
will be like the first pancake coming off the griddle. It’s not like I have anything to share that
hasn’t already been posted or made into a meme.
But, maybe, vomiting words on a page will help process all the mental
and emotional garbage that seems to overflow at the most inopportune times. Maybe it will help others feel not so
abnormal, especially if they find themselves self-isolating with the various
stages of grief, like me.
I struggle to understand how we even got here, to this
quarantine. It’s like we were innocently
playing tetherball on the playground, blissfully unaware of anything around
us. And then, BAMM, the school bully
snuck up behind us, gave us a wedgie, and kicked us in the nuts. Now, half us of are sitting patiently (as
directed by the teacher) with an ice pack on our crotch, waiting for the
swelling to go down. The other half says
“ice packs are for babies” and have joined the bully in his wedgie/nut crushing
tirade.
It all feels so very hard, so heart-breaking, so hopeless. Parents are finding themselves in a “substitute
teaching” position, which they are completely unqualified for. Teachers are
scrambling to create engaging and creative virtual teaching models with little
to no notice or assistance. Our high
school seniors have no place to flaunt their senioritis – no prom, no senior
skip day. Essential workers are being
used by the economically privileged as human shields. Lord, have mercy on our healthcare workers –
they are in a war zone! I cannot even fathom
having to make decisions about who is worthy of testing, who is worthy of
medical supplies, who is worthy of saving.
How dare we play armchair quarterback to those in the medical field who
are sacrificing months of time and physical touch with their families in order
to save ours. And, I’m sorry. I just. cannot. even. with these political
leaders!
I have to remember there is another side to this story. The positives – Italians singing on their
balconies. The helpers, like my aunt who
is sewing like a mad woman to make masks for healthcare workers. The humor - the ability to laugh in the midst
of this mess. I realize some people feel
like it is in bad taste to make jokes during a crisis like this. I don’t know.
There are just times you have to laugh to keep from crying. The laughter
does not devalue the seriousness of our current reality.
Confession: I spend way too much time on social media these
days – crying at uplifting videos, reading inspiring posts, and giggling to
myself at silly memes. Solidarity around
“homeschooling”, social distancing, the Tiger King, emotional eating…all hand-delivered
to us through cute, hilarious, belly laughing memes, tweets, and videos. Who are you wonderful people and how do you come
up with this stuff? How I covet your
ability to parody songs; create or re-create tik tok dance videos, and share
your heart through your writing (yes, I’m talking to you Melissa Radke, Anne
Lammott, Jen Hatmaker, and Brene Brown - it’s like y’all are in my head, speaking
the truths of my heart)!
Technology is a blessing and a curse, but I choose to focus
on the gift of instant connection during this time of physical isolation. Our
church buildings are closed, but technology allows us to continue to worship
collectively. Broadway and theatres
around the nation are using technology to prove that the show MUST and WILL go
on. There are many schools supporting
distance learning through online platforms.
And, how thankful are we for the plethora of ways we can connect with
everyone we love, even if we can’t reach out and touch them. Btw, Gen Xers – can you imagine if this
happened when we were in middle and high school? Holy busy signal, folded notes and mixed
tapes through the mail, and song dedications on the radio (this one goes out to
that special someone…you know who you are).
My takeaways from this word vomit:
1) Find a way to process this “unprecedented”
moment of history, but do not feel pressure to accomplish grandiose/life
changing things.
2) Acknowledge the hard, heart-breaking, hopeless
stuff. Help where you can, take time to
thank those essential helpers, do your part to make the swelling go down, and
pray.
3) It’s okay to laugh.
4) Embrace technology and find ways to connect with
other people.
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