It has been about one week since President Trump formally declared a national emergency in response to the fast and furious global outbreak of COVID-19 (Coronavirus). Originating in Wuhan, China just months ago, the pneumonia-type illness has spared not a single nation, bringing us all to our knees. Today, as I write this, there are 9,415 cases of the illness diagnosed in the U.S., spanning all 50 states. Here in New York, we are faced with the highest number of confirmed cases in the country. Social distancing has become an urgent, widespread command. It’s a phrase that we never wanted to be so familiar with, as we struggle to find our place between panicked and prepared.
Confined to our homes and discouraged even from visiting the local parks, out of fear of our homebound children seeing (and subsequently engaging with) their friends; the very nature of this disease seems to remind us of life’s sweetest simplicities that we should have never taken for granted.
We head to the grocery stores, reluctantly, because we have to—our families need to eat. We make sure to keep a minimum of 6 feet between ourselves and the other masked, gloved, anxious humans. Together, we stare at the empty refrigerator where we were hoping to find a single dozen eggs. There’s no meat of any kind. No bread, either. Not even flour or yeast to make our own bread. Not a single bunch of bananas. People have been hoarding toilet paper so frantically, that it has become a widespread joke. We aren’t laughing now. We move up and down each aisle in a sort of slow motion, more deliberately and carefully than we moved in this same store, just two weeks ago.
Unfortunately, it’s not because we are taking our time to be courteous—it’s just that we don’t want to pierce that gap of potential contagion. Occasionally, our eyes meet. We identify in one another’s fright. This pandemic has pulled the proverbial rug from underneath us all.
Just one month ago, the same shopping experience was far less dismal. Or was it? Were there concerning symptoms before? Were we unable to see them? Did we not want to see them? Today, perhaps in the most ironic side effect of all, this pandemic has required us to look up. We are suddenly forced to be keenly aware of our surroundings. We are forced to notice one another. This grocery store, just a few weeks back, would have been buzzing with the same over-scheduled, hurried, device-obsessed people—most of whom would have been multi-tasking in some form (myself included); Pushing the shopping cart while talking on the phone, texting or referring to a list stored on their device, checking emails while ordering their cold cuts, ignoring the attention-seeking behaviors of their children, etc.
And now? Post COVID-19 outbreak?
Here on Long Island, you’d be hard pressed to find a single adult in any such state of device-related hyperfocus. None of us are willing to to risk any amount of potential cross contamination, or heaven forbid, our child’s mouth touching the shopping cart handle. It’s such a dramatic turnaround and I can’t help but think—is this some “wake up” call? Is there some Higher Power demanding the we regain perspective of the most important matters in life? Have we been denying the symptoms of our human dis-connectedness for far too long?
Ok, universe. You have our attention.
Undoubtedly, there will be many who find my suggestions to be too philosophical, faith-based, or “hokey” for their tastes. I accept that. But personally, I’ve never been one to believe in irony or coincidence. All I know is, on this first day of Spring (there’s that irony, again), I’m hopeful for a rebirth.
It’s interesting how we all process situations differently, and at different paces. Some may argue that now, more than ever, we have become addicted to and dependent upon our screens. After all, during this time, people everywhere are confined to their homes and zoning out into their devices. Right?
Let’s think about that for a moment. Look a little closer into your home at what is happening right now. I will share with you what is happening in mine.
The screens are, undoubtedly present. We are using them for academic distance-learning, virtual dance classes, art experiences, museum and zoo tours. A few times, we have looked up new recipes to bake during this extended period at home. We have created Google hang outs with our friends from school, and have had virtual conferences with our classmates and teachers. Finally, we are FaceTiming members of our friends and family (who we genuinely miss), to check on them and to express our love.
There’s an important distinction to note about our screen-use during this COVID-19 pandemic. As a result of this global health crisis, screen-use in our homes seems to have shifted from passive viewing, to activities that require active engagement. This means that we are more recently drawn to interactive choices, as opposed to those associated with hyperfocus, addiction and other negative, screen-related behaviors.
Though we all regret the current circumstances, many of us are reflecting upon this period of social distancing as a time to strengthen our bonds within the family unit, and to find deeper meaning in the “little things” that we may have previously taken for granted.
Healthy, home cooked meals are more frequently being prepared without craze. Dinner tables are being carefully set for sitting together, as the pace in most households has slowed, significantly. More productive, intentional conversations are being had between spouses, as breaking news updates require us to discuss family plans. Morning snuggles are extended—after all, there’s no rush without an open office or school. The kids are grabbing ziplock baggies and heading out for scavenger hunts in nature, just before we take our picnic baskets to the beach for lunch. Afternoon floor puzzles and games? Sure! Why not? And you know something else? I never realized how many exotic animals my son could identify! I’m certain that he didn’t learn them from me. The other little guy keeps sneaking to the fridge for leftover “green pancakes” that we made for St. Patrick’s Day. They certainly made up for the fact that our leprechaun couldn’t make it this year. Dear daughter? Happy as a clam, in the middle of the whole ordeal. Skipping to the window, as she gleefully tapes her “Be Well” rainbow onto our front door. This was part of an Instagram art lesson from Portugal entitled, “Vamos Todos Ficar Bem” which means, “let’s all be well.”
In fact, many of the aforementioned activities were originally suggested by or facilitated by some social media post or website. Admittedly, COVID-19 has absolutely resulted in the increased use of screens, however, our choices seem to support human connection more than they had before the rapidly evolving global health crisis.
There is a collision of beauty and misfortune happening all around us.
People are falling ill with this horrific illness, many fatally. We are all fearing for our health and livelihood. None of us are sure how long we will be confined to our homes, when our children will return to school, or worse—when we will get sick. But somehow, in this brokenness, we have found the beauty of togetherness that had gone missing for too long. Countless numbers of people are pitching in to help out with creative new ideas that are keeping our children calm, in hopes of maintaining some form of routine and security for them. Screen use remains ubiquitous, but we’ve simultaneously grown more mindful of our relationships with one another. Families are having real conversations again. We are spending time together, expressing love for one another, lending our helping hands to those in need, and breaking bread together.
Perspectives have been leveled. Before our eyes, we’ve found great clarity in some of our darkest days. I pray that we continue to redefine our values in the interests of human connection and bonding. And today, on this first day of Spring, that we vow to grow roots from these ruins.