Let me start by stating the obvious. Things are scary right now. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so uncertain about, well, everything.
I also want to acknowledge that I’m lucky. My husband and I are both able to easily work from home or his small office, which qualified as social distancing before it was all the rage. We have food and heat and iPhones and laptops and Zoom and Teams and kids old enough to not need something from us every 17 seconds. We also have enough toilet paper and dry pasta, in case you’re wondering. But not too much.
This all gives me the luxury of not only remaining fairly calm, but finding a silver lining in all this mayhem. Of keeping a perspective that fills my heart whenever I join my coworkers on a video call or I go on social media. And yes, I’m reading the same stuff you are. I’m just focusing on the love in between the fear. The bright spots amidst the darkness. And the overwhelming feeling that we’re all in this together.
A rare photo of everyone who’s affected by this.
Never before, (at least in my lifetime) has the world been so unified in a similar experience. No matter our race, religion, geographic location or season, we’re all facing the effects of this virus on our daily lives at roughly the same time. So we’re able to not just feel sympathy, but true empathy for our fellow humans. If shared trauma bonds us, we’re bonding with the entire world.
Because of the amazing technological age we’re living in, we’re also able to gather information and share our trials and tribulations in real time. Ironically, our lack of physical togetherness is causing us to break down our walls and be more open and vulnerable. We’re reaching out to help neighbors we’ve never met. We’re joining in choruses from our balconies with strangers. We’re sharing our anxieties and fears and offering support to coworkers. We’re waving our kids and pets and spouses over to say “hi” to people during our video calls, because we don’t have to pretend those two worlds are separate. Sure, we’re all a little distracted. How could we not be? But we’re letting down our guard and sharing our true selves. Because we’re all human, we’re all scared, and we’re all in this together.
Shit is getting real, and some of it in the best way possible.
This realness is also revealing the truth. If compassion is our currency right now, the pandemic is exposing those who lack it. Companies who aren’t supporting their employees to keep them healthy, businesses who aren’t adapting to help their communities and workers, elected officials who aren’t rising up and putting the health and safety of their citizens first – they’re all showing themselves. And when things return to more normalcy are we’re all reassessing where we place our loyalty and our business and our trust, it will be with the companies, brands and leaders who looked out for us when we were down. When we all were down, together.
See, Karma’s a bitch, and she’s immune to the pandemic.
At the same time, the heroes are rising up, and they’re everywhere. Neighbors offering to run errands, restaurants changing their models to deliver food, people creating fundraisers to help support everyone from brave healthcare workers to the homeless to the recently unemployed. There are parents offering tips on how to keep kids learning and how to avoid breaking out the martini shaker at 10:30 am. Organizations offering free access to their online content, schools offering breakfasts and lunches to lower income kids and everyone sharing pictures of how happy their dogs are to have them at home.
Especially in our work-obsessed society, I also can’t help but wonder if the way we work will change for the better, too. Our perpetual need to feel busy and productive is being exposed as we eliminate commute times and “pop-ins,” water cooler recaps and after-meeting meetings. Suddenly we’re left with a little extra time. Time to focus on our families, our communities, and god forbid, ourselves. I can’t count the number of people I’ve seen looking for book recommendations. As if we’ve finally been given permission to take a moment to read. Or write. Or go on a walk with our kids at noon on a Tuesday. Which, by the way, they’ll never forget. If time is our most precious resource, most of us just experienced a windfall. And how we use it is up to us.
I don’t want to dismiss the severity of the situation. People are dying. Others are struggling to make ends meet. Our healthcare workers are selflessly and tirelessly putting themselves on the line to care for us. We owe them all our support. Whether that’s through organized efforts, money, or simply staying the eff home so we don’t spread the virus.
There is something we can spread, though, and that’s light. By focusing on the good we see in the world. By sharing it. “Look for the helpers,” as Mr. Rogers said. Even better, be one yourself. We are in an unprecedented time of worry and fear. But we can also help make it a time of unprecedented unity. Unprecedented creativity and problem solving. And unprecedented hope.
Because in the end, we’re all in this together.