Lives have changed for many during this season of uncertainty, some irrevocably, and some have changed very little. Our home-life is much the same as it was two, three weeks ago. Except, we’ve added family walks down to our local elementary school for student lunches.
My husband still goes into work. We are still hosting people in our Airbnb (though we’ve closed off our ventilation system to the room). I am still working as an Intern for Kathi Lipp. My oldest daughter is home and my middle daughter isn’t going to preschool three times a week. Other events have been canceled too, but our daily life is so much the same.
And yet different because I’m checking death tolls every day. I have to drag myself away from my phone to be present with my children–well, I’ve always struggled with that one. But now, it’s because changes unfurled so quickly in the last few weeks I’m anxious I’ll miss something new.
This feeling of living in an emergency and yet not feeling its effects is something new too. I’ve gained five pounds gobbling up snack-food that was supposed to last for weeks. Note to self– do not buy Kettle Corn as an emergency ration.
As we were on our walk yesterday I took a picture of a blossoming cherry tree. From one angle you could see a beautiful, corn-flower blue sky and from the other, you could see a dark storm cloud gathering. Same tree, just different points of view.
Nothing was different about our situation except the way we looked at it. I think the same could be said for what our nation is experiencing now. I know this Mr. Roger’s quote gets brought up every time we face a crisis, but he was a wise man and he’s not wrong.
It’s all about where we focus our attention. If I focus on myself and about whether or not my family will have what it needs in the coming weeks I want to hide, hoard, and isolate. If I focus on others I want to be part of the goodness I’m seeing. Hospital staffers are working tirelessly to save lives, stores are opening just for those in need, school cafeterias are opening just so they can be sure low-income children still get lunch.
And it’s not just that; it started in Italy, but people all over the world are singing from balconies, the police in Spain are serenading those obeying shut-in orders, and the homeschool moms have quickly become national heroes. We are seeing each other differently and that’s beautiful.
We can see the tree but focus on the storm or the sun. How will you capture this moment in time? When your grandchildren ask you someday what living through this period of history was like –they won’t be interested in your stock market portfolio; they’ll want to know how you braved the unknown.
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