If You Had Told Me Two Weeks Ago

Yellowbells (Fritillaria pudica) in SW Idaho. 

Two weeks ago, I was starting the week off normally, working in the office and doing one of my regular morning exercise classes at the gym. Coronavirus was a topic of conversation, on the lips of everyone, and was a common part of conversation—what was going to happen? That conference is still going to be held this week? Wow, I’m surprised. But the virus was only whispering on the outskirts of my life, so as is human nature, I did my best to ignore it.

Two weeks ago, I could waltz into the grocery store at any time of day, buy any type of butter or flour or oatmeal or Clorox wipes I wanted, engage in a friendly exchange with the cashier, and leave. I took this all for granted. My life was--and still is--supremely luxurious. I have a loving family, friends, a job, a roof over my head, splendid outdoor recreation opportunities, and the ability to pay my bills and afford a lifestyle that aligns with my values and priorities. And I had fallen prey to taking all of this for granted, as we do with constants in our lives.

But the past two weeks have proved that these are not all constants and that we need to take a step back and recognize how comfortable our lives have been. This virus has infiltrated our daily lives. It has brought us all to some type of edge of uncertainty, discomfort, and sadness.

Two weeks ago, if you had told me that I would be planning my day around buying groceries, or giving virtual hugs to my friends, or simply wishing that I could see my family during their planned visit (postponed until travel makes more sense), I wouldn’t have believed it. Spending larger amounts of time at home is allowing me to sit with my emotions and feelings. I am thinking more deeply, recalling memories and meditating on the amazingly rich and positive experiences I’ve had so far in my life. I am reaching out to family and friends, and they are doing the same for me—we are checking in and really seeing how each other are doing amidst chaos. Gone is the common “How are you?” “I’m good, how are you?” exchange, a default beginning for countless conversations. We are digging deeper.

People are dealing and processing this hard time in different ways. Like most of us, I feel the challenge in alternating waves—at times anxious and sad, but also stunned and empowered by the incredible displays of support and creativity I have seen. Free workout videos, online art lessons for kids who are out of school and offers to buy groceries for elderly neighbors are just a few examples of the grace I’ve witnessed over the past two weeks.

I know we are not close to coming out of this, and I don’t want to paint these times with rosy brush strokes, but maybe the thing we can learn out of all of this is how much beauty our world has and how thankful we should be for it. Can you imagine what it will be like to hug your friends again, to gather in a restaurant or bar, to throw your head back and laugh? These are things that would have happened on a weekly basis before Covid-19, and when we get to circle back to these things, I hope we wholeheartedly acknowledge and appreciate them.

Tonight I will get to video chat with three of my best friends, old friends who have been through a lot together and now live in three different time zones. I will go out on a run and see other people doing the same, getting outdoors and getting fresh air. I will talk to my family and check in. I am doing my best to give grace right now, and we’re all doing the best we can in this challenging and rapidly changing time. Kindness and love will transcend what we are going through. In solidarity we will heal.