all of the selves we Have ever been
It is a time of revelations. I’m not talking about the end of the world here. I am talking about personal discoveries. As I was walking yesterday afternoon, I passed two neighbors in adjoining yards. The street was quiet and the two were keeping their social distance, so it made it possible for me to overhear a snippet of their conversation. The two women were discussing what it was like to have their children receiving education at home. One mother described how her young school-age daughter had taken control of the situation creating lists and folders, organizing the homework and getting things done. The mother expressed both pride and surprise. In the midst of this crisis, the child revealed something about herself; there was something inside her that had not previously had an opening. When given the opportunity, new talents and a new maturity emerged. Hmm. This revelation gave me something more to chew on than my peppermint gum. While the current circumstances are weighty, there is also something freeing about the fact this crisis is happening to everyone and not just a few who must struggle on alone. Every person will be touched in some way. I recognize that some will be hit much harder than others, but there will be a new shared understanding. There is no blame or shame in a job loss, in having worry about paying the rent or the mortgage, struggling with homework, or running out of toilet paper. When the pandemic is over, there will be a system-wide re-set. The world will be changed. What types of businesses will there be? Will we bring some good manufacturing jobs back to the country so that we are not without pharmaceuticals, PPE, and tech parts in a future crisis? Which companies will survive? What lessons will have been learned about an at-home workforce? Individually, we have time to “find ourselves.” Some will find they like working from home. Others will find it impossible. Some will relish the homeschooling and may decide to continue. Others will have far more appreciation for teachers and for their child’s unique needs and abilities. Some will get the push they’ve long needed to leave a job they hate. Others will return to work with a renewed appreciation and vigor. Some will have the opportunity to work in a job they might not have considered before like going from a desk job to a labor job, perhaps in a grocery store or shipping company. During this time some will volunteer at foodbanks or blood drives and try their hands at service. People may have the opportunity to think about what it is they really want to do when they return to work. We now have time to examine our priorities. Some families will realize that they can make do with less work so they can enjoy more time at home. Without expenses for transportation, child care, morning coffee, work lunches, dry cleaning, gasoline, car maintenance, housekeeping, or lawn care, there will be new possibilities for addressing quality of life for families. Individually, it is a time to re-evaluate not just our spending habits, but the relationships in our lives. How much do we need to be with people? Who do we most enjoy as company? Who wears us out? How much time should we be spending on social media? We will be spending much more time in our personal space and with our stuff. Will we see more clearly how much we really need, what we can share, and what is weighing us down? As I make the turn for home, I digest my thoughts. What will these weeks at home reveal to me about myself? Like the school girl, I will make some lists and do some homework. I will pay attention to the people, things, and activities I miss. I will notice what brings me the greatest joy. I feel a hopeful curiosity. Perhaps there is something in me just waiting for an opening.
0 Comments
The sun is shining! It fills the sky with light and hope. I head to the bike path for a walk. This narrow stretch of asphalt has become a lifeline while I practice social distancing. Today, the grass alongside the trail is sprinkled with dandelions. I am happy to see signs of a life force that will not be denied, a bit of nature whose schedule cannot be delayed or interrupted by the coronavirus. After 15 or 20 minutes of walking, I reach a corner. The signpost says “Temporary Trail End.” I realize that sign has been there for several years now. I wonder, how long is temporary? That is the question on everyone’s mind right now. I turn right at the corner and see the flipside of the “Temporary Trail End” marker. The words on the back welcome me to the beginning of the trail! I am reminded of a truth--endings and beginnings often merge. Which is it, beginning or end? Depends on where you stand and which signs you read along the way. Whether we are facing a beginning or an ending, it takes time to determine if either will be temporary or permanent. There are happenings that pass so quickly that they are fleeting and cannot even be called temporary like that pain that stabs you awake in the night. Is it a heart attack? Appendicitis? And then, quick as it came, it passes. You reassure yourself that it was probably that burrito you ate at dinner, and you go back to sleep forgetting all about it by morning. Other times, something fleeting grabs your attention and won’t let go like that tinge of pink in the toilet bowl. Happened once, but not again. Still, you make a doctor’s appointment, and you are glad you did. Heeding the message proves lifesaving. There are the things we thought would be temporary but became permanent. Maybe we thought this purchase would be our “starter” home, and we live there a lifetime. We put off going to college in order to work and save some money, and then we retire with neither savings nor a diploma. And then there are the deals we entered into as permanent, but they did not last. Time-share purchases, weight loss programs and marriages are among them. Time plays tricks on us. In the space between temporary and permanent, beginning and ending, life happens, factors converge. We must make way for the unexpected. It is up to us if the change turns out to be for the better or the worse, and sometimes it is mighty painful while we make up our minds. It is clear now that the coronavirus is not fleeting. Like the sign on the bike trail, it may be a very long temporary. In the meantime, there are so many indications of an unstoppable life force among us, so many acts of kindness, generosity and heroism. They encourage me like the sunshine and the dandelions; they make the path more enjoyable, more hopeful, even though I am weary. Nonetheless, I remain eager for the day when I can see the signpost that says this temporary trail ends. I look forward to turning the corner and heading back into a new beginning. Today I drive across town on some errands that cannot wait. It is the first of the month. Rent is due for me and others. Prescriptions need refilled. It is another gloomy day. Knowing the worst of the pandemic is on the horizon, my mood matches the sky. The city streets are quiet for a business day. The endless expanse of empty asphalt matches the cloudy sky. Life is a skimpy sandwich between two slices of heavy gray bread. But I see some light ahead. Lush green grass announces the entrance to the county conservatory, its landscape dotted with puddles of brilliant yellow. At that moment, Billy Joel comes on the radio, “Sing us a song you’re the piano man…” As if on cue, the daffodils in their robes of gold belt out a chorus of Hallelujah! It is welcome background music at the gray sandwich café. As I make my way down the road, I notice the daffodils have sprung up everywhere. They fill the parks and decorate front lawns. There are planter boxes in front of apartment buildings and small patches around telephone poles and tree stumps. I drop off the rent payments for myself and some neighbors. I pick up prescriptions. As I go about my business, I pass sanitation workers picking up trash and road workers filling pot holes. A postal worker walks the street wearing a face mask and a heavy bag slung over one shoulder. There is a short line of cars at a fast food drive-through window. Pedestrians are abiding by the stay at home order. Out on the city sidewalks, they are few and far between. I make it home safely. There is gas in my car, a roof over my head, and food in my refrigerator. The shelves are lined with books. I have music on the stereo. My home has good internet service, heat, lights, clean water, and a working toilet. I can draw a deep breath. I am happy to be back in my shelter where emails and text messages from friends and family greet me. I join the choir of daffodils, Hallelujah! |
AuthorLilli-ann Buffin Archives
April 2024
Categories
All
|