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This is a short piece that I wrote in the spring of 2020. When the pandemic was still fresh and no one knew how long it would last and we thought we would be home from work for only a few weeks...
It is just over 5 weeks into the quarantine period for me in Seattle. The sun is shining. It is Spring, the trees are budding and the parks are bursting with people. There are more dog walkers, sun bathers, parents walking their toddlers, couples strolling and gaggles of teenagers hanging out in public places than I’ve ever seen before. It could just be a symptom of the seasonal Seattle unfreeze, where everyone comes out of hibernation and suddenly has a desire to socialize. But this year is different. It isn’t contained to the parks and beaches. It is in people’s front yards and the neighborhood streets.
People are sitting reading on front porches, setting up hammocks in their pocket sized front gardens, hanging out on stoops and entertaining people in their driveways. Mostly at a socially acceptable distance of 6 feet. The desire to be somewhere other than the confines of their houses have people doing their gym routines on their front step, setting up lawn chairs on the median strips, and footpaths are covered in intricate hopscotch chalk diagrams, colorful messages of hope and wishes of good health.
Walkers nod at each other on the footpath when they step aside and let others pass, as if we were all on a hiking trail or in a small town where such courtesies still existed. They smile and say thank you as I pull my dog to the side and let us all maintain a safe distance. There is an unspoken feeling of kinship and gratitude when we both abide by the regulations. Like we are in this together and “thank you for doing your part”.
There is barely any traffic. It is quiet and peaceful and yet the neighborhood is buzzing and more alive than I’ve ever felt it before. I can hear TVs and music and snippets of conversations float out the open front doors or off verandahs as I pass. I turn the corner and hear the thwack of a basketball bouncing on the pavement and against the backboard as a father and his son play a game in their driveway. I see people doing gardening or home maintenance. In the 5 years of walking my dog every day along these streets, suddenly I am seeing who actually lives here.
On the surface it feels as if nothing much has changed. That these neighborhoods are largely unaffected by the storm of uncertainty and malaise and just plain unfathomable circumstances that are swirling around us. The lawns are all mowed, the gardens tended to and the interactions polite. But then I pass a community mini-library repurposed with non-perishables, instead of books, free for the taking. The local neighborhood store is closed and shuttered, once busy construction sites are eerily quiet. Schools are ghost towns, and there are boards up on shop windows. I see masks hanging from rear view mirrors in parked cars, my neighbor drives up to his house with gloves on, and more people every day wearing bandanas fashioned into makeshift masks when walking along the street.
I am so fortunate to be able to work from home during these uncertain times. Safe in the knowledge that I can keep my house and my regular income. I am grateful that my work is busy and gives me routine and structure. I am beyond grateful that the people I know and love are safe and healthy. That I am safe and healthy. Grateful for the company of my partner and the dog. Grateful that we live in a time when we have the technology to enable us to stay isolated in our homes and still function. Grateful that the only discomfort I have to endure is the endless monotony of the days blending together and the ever increasing need to escape outside, or scream.
And I am acutely aware that not everyone has this luxury. I have friends and family who work in healthcare. Who are exhausted beyond endurance, but who are still going out there day after day, to make a difference. Who cry with gratitude on Zoom when they see people staying in to flatten the curve. I have friends who have had their classes cut, and are uncertain of graduation, friends who have lost jobs in the service industry, and those who are self employed, that have no alternatives, but to join the 6.6 Million filing for unemployment. I have a friend who is heavily pregnant and I worry about her going to the hospital to give birth. Friends and family who have pre-existing conditions, and those who are just older and vulnerable. And those are just the people I know personally.
I read the news, I see the pictures of mass graves and refrigerated trucks repurposed as temporary morgues, the funerals where only 3 family members at 6 feet apart can attend. My heart breaks for Italy and Spain and New York and everywhere else that is suffering on such a devastating scale. I see the death count ticking over every minute and my sadness and fear rises proportionally. They say these are unprecedented times. I disagree. Or at least - they are for my generation. But we don't have to go back far in history to see such wide-scale death and economic desolation.
I offset my Gen-X, white privilege bubble, and survivor’s guilt by donating what I can, and praying that people much smarter than me, are actually able to fix this.
I selfishly don’t want to dwell on the negatives so I temper my grief at the loss of our way of life with the hope that this enforced cessation of regular human activity gives a much needed breather to the planet. That maybe, just maybe, people will take this down time to stop and reflect on themselves and society. To see the inequalities of the healthcare and social system, the politics working against, not for, the people. That they use this time for creative pursuits, to be healthier, more connected to themselves, their families, communities and the environment. To slow down and reassess and to make changes for the next chapter of humanity. But then, I’m clearly an optimist.
However, optimist or not, the evidence is there. People are re-discovering the lost art of quality time and imagination when interacting with their kids. They are finding new ways to keep them entertained and educated and out of their hair. I've seen in-house obstacle courses, Corona versions of Le Mis sung by the entire family, and a leggo resurgence.
It is amazing how boredom, time, and lack of social obligations can be a catalyst for curiosity and activity. Of course there are those that will just dive deeper into the mire of social media, or continue to mindlessly live vicariously through re-runs of their favorite tv shows, movies or streaming content. But as fresh content dries up people will have to plumb the depths of their creativity. I for one, am excited about the Corona Renaissance.
I'm betting on people re-discovering the lost art of re-cycling, re-purposing and repairing items that can't so easily be replaced. If this goes on for much longer I'm predicting trades like carpentry, blacksmiths, welding, mechanics, electronics and sewing all make a comeback in popularity and demand. Along with gardening and home crafts.
Hobbies and home projects abandoned due to hectic schedules are once again picked up. This is the mythical 'get-around-to-it' time. Whether it is the necessary DIY hair root touch ups or the delights of perfecting a recipe or a song, Corona is forcing us to look inwards to our own wellspring of resourcefulness and creativity. Dust covered kettlebells and skipping ropes are being pulled out of dark corners of the closet and finally have their moment to shine. Online gym classes and training videos are having an upsurge in popularity and I wish to god I had bought shares in Zoom when the going was good.
And as sick as I am of screens and online happy hours and video conference calls, I still appreciate the irony of the forced quality time that is bringing people closer by facilitating real conversations, and focused attention. There is nowhere to hide on a video chat screen. I've seen people rapidly drop their defenses, open up, and willingly share about their emotions and reactions, to this turbulent time.
However, this golden age of enlightenment can't continue for much longer. People who were scraping by on minimum wage will be suffering financial setbacks that they will probably never recover from. I suspect it will be the death knell for small businesses and family run restaurants. It will mean the big corporations will swoop in and homogenize every aspect of our lives. And not only the people are affected. Pets are exhausted and confused by so much human interaction and company. They are suddenly forced to re-negotiate the terms of daytime ownership of the couch, and beg off walks and play time.
But again. I have to remember that I'm an optimist and that if history has taught us anything, its that the human race will persevere and that we are nothing if not adaptable. We will be shaken, and we will be stirred, but not broken. There is already a race on to find a vaccine and the rewards for the winner will be significant. So every fiber of my being believes that this new normal will not be normal for long.
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