Daily Dispatches: Day 6
March 19, 2020
Self-Isolation, Day 6
After taking Chalupa out and giving her breakfast (kibble) and medicine (CBD to help her bulldog neuroses), I opened the cabinet to choose a mug. I realized that several of our mugs at this point have been gifts from writers. Rae Dunn’s “Stay Wild,” “Create,” and “Enjoy,” a Starbucks Oregon mug (actually those four are all gifts from the same person!), one from Salt Lake City and another from Minnesota. And then, this. “Fierce Encourager” it says on one side, and “Jena” on the other, with little stamped images of pens and feathers, butterflies and flowers, and even a bonafide bookworm. I chose that one today. It was a gift from Tammy MacKenzie last summer, not long after I’d hung my literal shingle at the Fierce Encouragement headquarters here in town after 4.5 years of working from my kitchen table.
Fast forward to this week: I am working from my kitchen table. It may seem silly; after all, I could still go to my office, I suppose. It’s just me there. But a) I am not 100% whether my subletters are using it (doubtful and I supposed I should send them an email to check in, anyway – noting that on today’s to-do list); b) I don’t know if anyone else has been in the building, so even that is an unnecessary risk as far as touching door handles, etc. and c) now is the time to be home. Full stop.
How long will this last? That is a $500 billion dollar question and I continue to sidestep speculation, as tempting as it is.
So as I poured my coffee, I wondered what it means to be a “fierce encourager” during a global pandemic.
I keep thinking, this is our war. We’ve read and studied so many wars, past and present. Some of us have lived through those wars. I think of our dear friend Doug Anderson, who is a Vietnam veteran, friends with relatives who survived the Holocaust, refugees from around the world who know what it is to have their lives upended overnight.
On a micro level, every time I have cracked an egg for the past 20 or so years, I’ve flashed on a story I read about a woman in Poland during WWII who would use her finger to gently scoop out any clinging bits of egg white from the shell, so as not to waste a single bit of sustenance.
I keep thinking that for those who are accustomed to living with economic instability, food insecurity, and a lack of health insurance, the sense of being one day or paycheck away from disaster is not new.
I keep thinking of those who must still report to work, like Lesley Salas in Florida, and my step-daughter Hope, who manages a massive Goodwill store in Phoenix.
I keep thinking of ER doctors, of walk-in clinic nurses, on the literal frontlines, having no choice but to reuse masks and other medical equipment.
I keep thinking of the elderly who live alone, for whom isolation means something very different than for those of us who are hunkered down with immediate family.
I keep thinking of those who are hunkered down in marriages that are dysfunctional at best and dangerous at worst.
I keep thinking of children for whom school is refuge, and teachers who are facing the need to learn new skills and shift to online learning environments overnight.
On a more immediate note, we had a doctor’s appointment for Pearl over the phone yesterday. Aviva continues to see her girlfriend from an excruciating 6’ distance, as they pray to remain symptom free for a full 14 days so as to be able to have physical contact and hang out at each other’s houses again. I am a newcomer to Words with Friends and currently have games going with Kim Tackett, Mani, my dad (who is CRUSHING me), and someone named Nancy S. We’re out of fresh produce but putting off a grocery trip. I saw a good tip, about blanching bunches of kale and broccoli and freezing sandwich-bag amounts of each. We’ll see if the store even has those veggies when I do eventually venture out.
I wrote a list of 11s for us, things to keep in mind while adjusting to this sudden new reality. I hope you find it helpful.
Be gentle with yourself. This is the most important thing. If you don’t remember any of the other things, come back to this one.
Make a list of people you can connect with via text, phone, Words with Friends, Facetime (or Zoom or Skype). Have at least one conversation, in any form, a day with a friend.
Keep a journal, diary, or blog.
Join a writing group. The Truth + Beauty Club is a place where we write what’s true in the moment and share bits of beauty from our everyday lives. It’s pay-what-you-can for the foreseeable future. You could also sign up for an upcoming writing group to get that awesome experience of a) support for keeping your writing practice alive and b) connecting with beautiful humans all over who will love on you and your words. If you would like to join a spring group (Sound of Real Life Happening in April and Mini Memoirs in May) but money is tight or uncertain, do not worry. Drop me a note. I will not turn ANYONE away for lack of funds. If you’re in a position to join a group and pay the regular amount, know that you are very directly helping me and my family through this time.
Get outside if you can. I say “if you can” because a) not everyone is physically able to do so and b) I don’t know what specific shelter-in-place requirements look like now or might in the future where you live. But if it is an option, do it!
Ditch the self-judgment. Make it a practice. Get creative and even silly with it. If you’ve never written an eviction notice to that harsh person who camps out in your brain, now would be the perfect time to do so.
Now is NOT the time for any self-improvement projects. To be honest, I am not a fan of “self-improvement” anytime. I think they whole premise of it reinforces a shitty myth that there is something wrong with you to begin with. But now especially is a time to cut yourself a whole lotta slack. This is true when it comes to creating and sticking to routines at home. It will take time, and even then things will keep changing. If ever there was a time to remind ourselves that there is no right or wrong way to do this, now would be it.
Breathe. On purpose.
Step away from the news, at least for stretches of time each day. Turn on music while you’re making food. Read a book. Give your nervous system a break.
Excuse yourself. If you live with other people, it is ok to say you need some space. You do not have to be a paragon of patience and positivity. All the feelings are allowed.
Be here now. It may be a bumpersticker (I am not making that up – my car really does have a bumpersticker that says “I’d rather be here now”), but this timeless teaching from Ram Dass remains one of the most helpful practices I know. In fact, all of the things on this list basically amount to this one.
Which of these will you choose in this moment? The more we can stay present to what we’re feeling, our immediate surroundings, and the people around us, the better. I suppose this has never not been true. As we find our way in this sudden new reality, it is a reminder that we have power in this moment about how we respond.
I hope you are safe. I hope you are healthy. I hope you are tending to your disappointments with tenderness. I hope you are acknowledging your fears without being consumed by them. I hope you ask for help when you need it.
I will keep be here, doing the same things I’ve been doing for some time now – writing, sharing, reaching out, holding space, and encouraging us to keep showing up, in all the ways.
If you are able and inclined to contribute any amount, your support will allow me to keep doing what I do and keep the pantry stocked.
