Doing It All in the Time of Corona
Monday, March 23rd, 2020
Almost a month since my February 29th Voxer message to my mom, where I was talking through tears. The week had been a doozy, par for the course around here, and I felt low on Keep Calm and Carry On juice. Everyone was walking around like normal back then, but I was scrambling to find warm-weather shoes for my growing girls before stores closed and get medications sorted. I had my last trip to the movie theater with Maggie that night. We saw John Turturro at IFC Center do a Q+A after a screening of The Jesus Rolls. (Just kidding—now I remember Maggie and I slipped into BAM one more time after that for a matinee. There was only one other person in the 300-seat theater.)
But that night before IFC we went to the pizza place I found via Liam and Christina and I savored it. Crust better than I’ve had in nearly a decade. Vegetables. The early dinner group and Maggie against an old-world brick wall in the evening’s golden light. Already I worried about seeing far-away loved ones again.
Maggie said I was probably overreacting. (As for an update, last week she filled me in on her system for Clorox-treating the mail, and showed me the rubber gloves she wears to the store.)
Honestly, my nerves were more raw back then, knowing this was among us and yet so unknown. Sending my teens out to ride the subway, knowing each of their personal vulnerabilities. This time is a strain in many ways but a respite in others. It’s taken me a bit to get to that point, but I’m finding it.
In last week’s mad rush to convert so much of our lives to a virtual format, there was still a lot of emphases placed on productivity.
(A mass fantasy, perhaps, that in our tech-infused resourcefulness we might manage without hardly skipping a beat.) It was enough at that point, perhaps, to process the loss of our face to face experiences.
But the next step may be loosening our grip on our expectations of productivity.
For our children, our colleagues and ourselves. As much as we can, let’s try to leave a margin for being unproductive. We are dealing with a massive amount of collective change, and soon, what will be a massive amount of collective grief.
I am one of the more productivity-obsessed persons in my circle, so I know that of which I speak. I am doing home projects and creative ones and baking and watching The Criterion Channel while snuggling. I myself am still trying to Do It All.
And yet.
I remember that teary girl from four weeks ago. I remember that Keep Calm and Carry On juice needs time and space and nourishment and sleep to replenish. So I don’t write this piece from under the sheets at 6 am like I did last Monday. I linger under the bedsheets and blankets instead, with nothing to show for my time except the comfort I felt from a memory revisited.
I am slowing myself down, even as my caregiving load expands with kids home 24/7. I am taking walks to move, to put my face where the light can find it. I am not taking a moment of wellness or a day in the world with my kids for granted.
I am still doing too much.
But I don’t want to miss the opportunities for stillness, mindfulness, listening, and prayer. I don’t want to careen through this time unchanged.
Maybe Shelter in Place doesn’t have to only apply to our external actions, but we could also create an experience of sheltering on the inside.
I think we will need it.
Let’s begin now. We need perseverance so let’s give ourselves a head start with moments of gentleness, with prying the sense of urgency on that closet reorg from our tightly-clenched grip. Maybe we could eat another peanut butter cookie or bake another batch. Look them deeply in the eyes and breathe in their presence.
I don’t want to miss the important parts because I was numbing out or attempting a illusion of control through over-action.
Maybe we could exhale and loosen our grip, just a little bit, together.