An Easter Reflection during Quarantine ...
Today is Easter Sunday - a day to reflect on the gift of Rebirth. Most of us on this day would usually be getting up for church or a family gathering, but the vast majority of us this year are waking up only to stay home. This morning, as I think about this quarantine and the impact it's had on all our lives, I realize that I'm becoming more afraid of things going back to our busy normal than I am of them staying the way they are now.
The past few weeks have been challenging and, at times, have felt unbearable. Being "stuck" at home with a new baby and an energetic young child has tested my patience to the limit. I've cried most days. However, I'm beginning to see that my discomfort is due largely to my own clinging to my "norm" and being pushed outside, way outside, my comfort zone of Doing. As that realization has struck me, I've been able to see, more and more, the ways that being confined has paradoxically been liberating - not just to me but for our society as a whole. And there are some things I love about that.
I love that we've been staying home and finding things to do. I love that we've been cooking and going for walks everyday. I love that I'm getting to keep the baby home longer than I planned and that I'm getting to spend time with Silas that I wouldn't have had before. I love that Silas isn't spending his days in a windowless classroom but, instead, is climbing trees, playing in mud, watching his baby brother grow, and fishing with his Dad. I love that, if this had to happen, it happened in the Springtime when we can be outside. I love walking through the neighborhood and seeing so many people out. I love the number of sidewalk chalk creations and the fact that sidewalk chalk is a "hot commodity." I love that people are friendlier and the unspoken knowledge on people's faces that we have something in common. I wonder how many of us have thought about what we've had in common all along? I wonder if once this virus "goes away" we will recognize that we still have commonalities that we can think about when we pass each other that will compel us to give a gracious nod and knowing smile.
Our daily walks have been my saving grace in these days, and they have also led to some really beautiful reflection. Right now, when another person passes us on the sidewalk, we move aside to give each other space due to Social Distancing. The government says it's the right thing to do. We seem to have a keen awareness of others that is driven by having to keep space between us. But ... what if after this is all over, we maintain that awareness? Not so that we can keep space between us but so that we can hold space for each other. Maybe rather than going back to our norm of averting our gaze and plowing past the other person to get to where we are going, we continue to look up, smile, and see the other people on our path.
Maybe we will not only see them but we will see them as more important than our destination. It strikes me that right now none of us know where we are going or when we will get there, so our journey has become more important than our destination. We can't be laser focused on getting where we are going and getting there harder, better, faster, stronger than the next person because we have been forced into leisure. I don't think any of us would have admitted what it would take to slow us down. Sure, we all said we'd love to just be home, spend time with our kids, sleep in, and not have anywhere to go. But the truth is, any one of us, given time off under "normal circumstances" would have filled our days with getting things done and going places. We would simply have replaced business with busyness. But now, our option for busyness has been taken away. Of course,we have kept "busy" with different things, but the pressure isn't there. The things we are doing have presented themselves as a choice rather than an obligation.
At the beginning, all of this space and time in our days was uncomfortable. We fought the boredom, the confinement, and the isolation. I did, for sure! But I can feel a shift happening now. Now that we are deeper into this situation, and our minds have had a chance to adjust through the withdrawal from our addiction to "doing," we are learning how to just "be." And we are liking it.
I think I will look back on this time as a really special gift. A gift of Time, Slowness, and Priority. We've learned the truth that out of boredom is borne creativity and that creativity is also borne of necessity. We've learned when we spend time in our space, the stuff we had to have before becomes stifling, and that what is really fulfilling is being outside, learning something new, and slowing down.
I don't want this to go away. Of course, I want to hug my mom. I want to gather with friends in the cul de sac. I want to take a road trip. But I want all of these things to come back only so that I can feel the preciousness of them. When I hug my mom, I want to really feel that embrace. I want to reunite with friends and really acknowledge how special it is to be close to them. I'm not so sure, though, that I want back my options of things to do and places to go. I want to retain the simplicity of this time. I want choosing to stay home to be okay. I want home projects, cooking, and cleaning our home to continue to feel like leisure rather than work. And I think I can see in the genuine smiles of people on the sidewalk, hear in laughter of children playing with their parents, and smell in the air that isn't being polluted with industry, that the rest of the world wants all of that too.
Perhaps the next step for us is Gratitude. We have already begun to shift our thankful gaze upon the real heroes - doctors and nurses, teachers, first responders, and grocery store clerks - those who, while the world is shut down, are showing up for us. They are showing up, not with lip service and an agenda, but with courage and a mask. They are pulling up their bootstraps and doing the real work. I hope our seeing and honoring them doesn't fade away either.
Our priorities, on a global scale, have shifted, and that feels Divine. And although the dramatic change we felt at the beginning of this had us all reeling with our worlds feeling all wrong, I'm beginning to feel that everything is more right than it's been in a very long time. My prayer now is that it sticks. That we spend enough time here that we gain momentum in this new direction. I hope that we focus long enough on the blessings of this "new normal" that it becomes just normal. It will take courage - when allowed, the old things will come roaring back at us enticing us with options. But my hope is that we will stay the path - only moving off of it to allow another person to pass with a gracious nod and knowing smile.
Our daily walks have been my saving grace in these days, and they have also led to some really beautiful reflection. Right now, when another person passes us on the sidewalk, we move aside to give each other space due to Social Distancing. The government says it's the right thing to do. We seem to have a keen awareness of others that is driven by having to keep space between us. But ... what if after this is all over, we maintain that awareness? Not so that we can keep space between us but so that we can hold space for each other. Maybe rather than going back to our norm of averting our gaze and plowing past the other person to get to where we are going, we continue to look up, smile, and see the other people on our path.
At the beginning, all of this space and time in our days was uncomfortable. We fought the boredom, the confinement, and the isolation. I did, for sure! But I can feel a shift happening now. Now that we are deeper into this situation, and our minds have had a chance to adjust through the withdrawal from our addiction to "doing," we are learning how to just "be." And we are liking it.
I think I will look back on this time as a really special gift. A gift of Time, Slowness, and Priority. We've learned the truth that out of boredom is borne creativity and that creativity is also borne of necessity. We've learned when we spend time in our space, the stuff we had to have before becomes stifling, and that what is really fulfilling is being outside, learning something new, and slowing down.
I don't want this to go away. Of course, I want to hug my mom. I want to gather with friends in the cul de sac. I want to take a road trip. But I want all of these things to come back only so that I can feel the preciousness of them. When I hug my mom, I want to really feel that embrace. I want to reunite with friends and really acknowledge how special it is to be close to them. I'm not so sure, though, that I want back my options of things to do and places to go. I want to retain the simplicity of this time. I want choosing to stay home to be okay. I want home projects, cooking, and cleaning our home to continue to feel like leisure rather than work. And I think I can see in the genuine smiles of people on the sidewalk, hear in laughter of children playing with their parents, and smell in the air that isn't being polluted with industry, that the rest of the world wants all of that too.Perhaps the next step for us is Gratitude. We have already begun to shift our thankful gaze upon the real heroes - doctors and nurses, teachers, first responders, and grocery store clerks - those who, while the world is shut down, are showing up for us. They are showing up, not with lip service and an agenda, but with courage and a mask. They are pulling up their bootstraps and doing the real work. I hope our seeing and honoring them doesn't fade away either.
Our priorities, on a global scale, have shifted, and that feels Divine. And although the dramatic change we felt at the beginning of this had us all reeling with our worlds feeling all wrong, I'm beginning to feel that everything is more right than it's been in a very long time. My prayer now is that it sticks. That we spend enough time here that we gain momentum in this new direction. I hope that we focus long enough on the blessings of this "new normal" that it becomes just normal. It will take courage - when allowed, the old things will come roaring back at us enticing us with options. But my hope is that we will stay the path - only moving off of it to allow another person to pass with a gracious nod and knowing smile.
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