Hello, world! We’re stuck in this. We’re going to be stuck in it for a while.
I’ve been journaling during this time I’ve kept journals since I was six years old. I’ve been better at some periods of my life than others but I make a special effort to write during major historic events. If someone cracks open my journals (LONG after I’m dead, thank you…) and has any success reading my horrid handwriting, that’s what they will want to read about: What did a third-grader think of Desert Storm? How did a teenager react to the Columbine shootings? Where was this young adult during 9/11 and now, how is this thirty-something riding out the COVID-19 shutdown of the world?
I’m okay, I say. And I say that with gratitude.
This is a very scary time and a lot of people are going to suffer—some from illness, more from financial loss. Even when we’re on the other side of the flattened curve, many members of our communities will need help getting back onto their feet.
Witchcraft Under Quarantine: What Is A Witch To Do During Social Distancing?
As a natural introvert who has constantly been pressured by family and culture to be extroverted, it’s nice to have permission to stay home. I feel an unfair kind of pressure, though, during this time. I need to finish Marie Kondo Methoding my house! I need to churn out seven articles! I want three new book proposals complete before they end the quarantine!
I read an article that says, no, we don’t have to be productive during this time. Maybe that’s where I’m getting it wrong. Has the world given us not just permission to take a breath, but a mandate to do so? Stories are coming out of China and other parts of the world that are tracking how quickly pollution dissipated. The lives saved because of this time of quarantine aren’t only people who have avoided the virus. Air and water pollution reduction may have saved even more.
We’re being reminded that we don’t have to run around all of the time.
I feel the energies of my ancestors, ones that survived epidemics of past years. No matter who we are or where our ancestors came from, we are descendants of someone who survived a mass illness. I also feel the energies of the ancestors who wonder why I run around like I do, why I spend so many hours and days from home.
It’s a different world, I’ve tried to tell them. There are things required of me that weren’t required of them. Expectations, work, relationships have all changed.
But in this time, I realized that the world hasn’t changed—just mine, or our, reaction to it. The flowers (and weeds) in my yard are still growing like they do every spring. The robins are pecking up worms. My dog still wants to go out at 4 a.m. and the cats want to eat at 3 a.m.
But am I still a person when I’m not so busy? Am I still the person I believed myself to be?
As it turns out, I am. I’m still odd and quirky. I still drop off groceries and even part of my toilet paper stash for people in need.
I guess I don’t have to be busy in order to be me. And that’s what this time is teaching me.