Weathering with you

Anybody else feel like the past week has lasted a month, maybe two? Sweet baby Jesus, the pace things are moving at. And it’s not as if the world has stopped moving. The war in Syria has entered its tenth year (10th!), the climate crisis is still on, and Trump has a chance of getting re-elected. It’s just a lot to process, everything that is going on, and people have to actively turn to brighter and lighter things on occasion to remain sane and function. A goldfinch found our bird feeder. Sakura season! The canals of Venice look like...what they ought to look like!! Spring equinox!!! Oh, and did you see those penguins? Adorable.

I work from home, so self-isolation is my default setting; but suddenly my workplace is teeming with people and activities I’m not used to, so resuming semi-normal workaday functions will take some time. Homeschooling, homework, news upon news after news, keeping in touch with family, friends and colleagues… It’s hard to concentrate. I asked my unflappable little brother (father of three) how he’s faring working from home with the kids. “I had to go sit in the car.” Whatever works, right?

For the young ones, this feels like a punishment. I want my friends and I want my hobbies and I want my freedom of movement and every other thing I’m used to. Well, you can’t have them right now, and that’s just the way it is. If my boys start grumbling, I’ll start telling them about their great-grandfather in WWII while their great-grandmother worked 36 hours a day back home and what the last trimester of pregnancy feels like to say nothing of giving birth. Stuff and stories like that. I know something closer to home and frame of reference might work better. But they’re neither little nor stupid, so I choose the big guns. Make ‘em count their blessings. Give them pause, perspective, you know. Works like a charm.

Some are upset their spring break got cancelled, their summer holiday plans are ruined, their online shopping is stuck somewhere and this doesn’t really concern them since they’re young and in good health and clubbing is a human right. How easy it is to start thinking that you’re entitled to things you’re simply accustomed to. Some are about to lose their jobs. Some could lose their homes. Some will lose their lives. Let’s see how humans and humanity rate on less easily quantifiable things such as cooperation and resilience now that we are all in this together. Kinda. Sorta. Not really. Some have withdrawn to an all-inclusive resort. Some are battling the elements beyond the gates. So many freelancers, single parents, the anxiety-ridden, homeless men/women/teens/families, struggling-to-begin-with artists/performing artists/artists period, small business owners, large families living in a shoebox of an apartment, refugees, people whose proverbial bootstraps are about to snap…destitute fellow humans for whom this is a disaster in every meaning of the word. If you have the means, seek ways to help, personally as a patron or through an organization. Support your local at every turn so that they’ll still be there when the smoke clears. If they’ve been forced to close shop for now, throw disposable income at them as soon as possible. This affects everyone directly and immediately or indirectly and over time. We are the market. We are the economy.

And who said there is no such thing as society? [Thatcher.] We are it. Nothing without each other. We are all part and parcel of this network we keep going and which keeps us busy and flowing. I know society seems like an amorphous beast because each individual is different, but when push comes to shove, we have one mission and only one mission: to protect one another. In that sense, we are in this together. You and I, and your lovely neighbors, and that cagey guy from work, and the cashier at the grocer’s, you know, that sweet old lady who’s worked there since the beginning of time, and your old teacher, the one with cancer, and everyone we cross paths with daily and will never cross paths with.

One microscopic little thing. That was all it took. How fragile, how vulnerable humans and our endeavors are. How I wish that something good comes out of this. Everyone keeps saying how this will change things for good, as in irrevocably. I hope good is the operative word. Because we will have to make a choice. Where do we go from here? How do we get there? What do we do about seemingly endless conflicts? What do we do about slowly but surely evolving crises? What do we do about threats to democracy and equality? How do we protect humanity from future pandemics? Every step we take will pave a path. Better watch where we’re going, dearest denizens.

Traveler, there is no road; the road is made as you go.
~Antonio Machado