As I get up every morning, I experience the shock of living in this unprecedented crisis. It reminds me of my father’s unexpected and early death of complications after heart surgery; for months afterwards, upon waking I would want to believe it was just a nightmare; but then I would pinch myself and realize sadly that it was true.
As the shock wears off and I realize that this is the new reality- we are curfewed; we are quarantined; we cannot see family and friends; we cannot travel, eat out, etc. and we don’t know how long this will go on, my selfish being begins to surface. I cry some tears because I miss seeing my youngest grandchild Nyla every week or our kids and other grandkids every other week. I miss all my extended family and friends. I miss the warmth and love we give to each other when we meet. I am not even sure if I should drive to Pennsylvania for my mother’s 91st birthday this Sunday. And a dark cloud of uncertainty, loneliness and sadness looms.
And just as the mist that evaporates in the early morning, this cloud of self-focused thinking begins to evaporate slowly. I ask myself: how do you think the people whose lives are in danger are feeling? How are the people who have lost loved ones feeling? How about those who work on the healthcare industry’s front-line- what thoughts must go through their head every-time they leave the house? How about those whose businesses have closed or are losing value; whose dreams are crushed or delayed? Those that have lost jobs and face financial duress? How about the young students whose learning has been interrupted and must be managed by stressed parents? A photo yesterday of the Italian military escorting coffins of Coronavirus victims in Italy shook me to the core. Daily news of the nature of this virus; how deadly it is and how it developed are shocking. I started watching “Pandemic” on Netflix and was surprised by how much was already known about pandemics by the scientific and medical community, and how more likely they are to be in the future. Our confinement is a tiny inconvenience compared to whole nations locked up or kicked out of their homes as in Palestine and Kashmir and many more places than we can count.
The crisis becomes a mirror for my selfishness and my entitlement. It reminds me of my privilege- to be safe, healthy so far, and not have to go out to work or earn now. And it reminds me of the much greater responsibility that I have to care and support others, and simply, just stay at home voluntarily. It is changing me as I sit and mope, and forming a new being – more other-focused, humbler, more grateful, more appreciative, even as I fight daily with my little ego that wants everything to be normal again, quickly. I am in awe of my four grown kids and their families as well as my extended family and friends as they struggle and adapt- each with their own set of challenges and yet remain steadfast, strong and exhibiting “beautiful” patience as the teacher Omar Suleiman calls it; and as they give to the needy and the poor- see photo of Syed Enterprises donating to Project Hospitality. I am touched by neighbors, like Will, who offer to have groceries delivered and friends and family who check in periodically. Throughout Spain, people clap at 8 pm every evening on their balconies to appreciate the doctors and nurses on the front lines. I hope this kindness spreads to all of us billions of humans who are witnessing a world grinding to a halt. I hope we learn to build masks and hospitals, not bombs and guns; to spread love and community not hate and violence. We could have never imagined it, but maybe a tiny invisible bug will accomplish a transformation to “unitive consciousness” as my friend Glenn Parry calls it. May we all be changed forever as one human race and heed this lesson from God and our Magnificent Universe.
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