Every little project away from screens is helping to maintain calm and sanity.
All week I’ve been trying to post something. I write it in the evening, and by the time I return the next day to polish it, the landscape has shifted again. The reach of the virus is worse. The response more critical. The world more tense. The shelf life of words in this moment is more perishable than hoarded canned food.
So the lesson is, write now and post now.
The idea I began working with was and is “Dispatches from Ground Zero,” a series detailing what’s happening here in the Pacific Northwest since the first cases of COVID-19, the Coronavirus, have been here in the greater Seattle area. I had hoped that what we were starting to see as a region would be a point of curiosity to be observed from afar; something that friends and family would never be able to fully relate to, like how we can put cream cheese and grilled onions on hotdogs. Interesting to know about, but probably not going on any menus back home in Michigan. Well, the Seattle dog may not arrive, but go ahead and wipe down the menu itself, because what is here is everywhere.
It’s only a matter of time before there is a lyric in a rap song that says “I go viral like Corona.” I wonder what we’re going to replace the term “viral” with when this moment in time has passed.
The last two weeks have been strange to say the very least of it. At first it seemed like the response was that of a litigious society, at the intersection of “better safe than sorry” and the new norm of having a known strong position on any given matter. That impression dissipates faster than hand sanitizer.
It was incredible to hike with some snow this morning.
To practice the new imperative of “social distancing” most things are being cancelled. It is (currently) still possible to gather in small groups. Today, my partner Cara and I went on a hike with two of our dear friends. The mountains and nature leave plenty of space between people.
Of course, the central topic of all conversations these days is the Coronavirus. On our hike, we talked about work. Two of us—Beth and I—are self-employed work-from-home types. Cara works at an office downtown. Her whole organization, like so many others, has gone to work-from-home for the foreseeable future. Eric works at a community center that has everything from daycare to senior community space. He’s one of the people that helps keep the physical place going. Plenty is changing there too. We talked about jobs, the economy, and the challenges of the unknown future. We talked about how every CRM (customer relationship management software) that we’ve ever been added to has sent an email about what they’re organization is doing to mitigate the viral virus. The range is wide. The obviously relevant organizations like healthcare providers; city, state, and national elected officials; etc. But then there are the tire dealerships, the hosting service that I use for the websites I build; The company that I bought some socks from for Christmas presents. Don’t get me wrong, I think we all need to do our part. But the volume of email with COVID in the topic line adds to the alarm.
As per our usual hiking custom, we stopped at a restaurant on our way home. We’d discussed the wisdom of the choice. But like everything at the moment, it’s constant negotiation. Lots of restaurants are closing up shop permanently. So there’s the social responsibility of patronage vs. the social responsibility of social distancing. In this case, we ate.
We returned home, cleaned up, rested, and turned on the debate. Of course, Corona was central. So much so that there wasn’t a live audience. Something that has never happened.
Puzzles are becoming much more important than ever.
A few moments after, we looked at our phones and saw that the quarantine has been expanded. What had been a cap of a max of 250 people in a gathering space has been dropped to 50. Restaurants and bars will be closed except pickup and delivery. Retail is a crapshoot.
We spent our last meal out for the foreseeable future in the company of friends.
Now, we isolate.
I am curious. What is going to be different when we emerge? How will we be different when we emerge? Life as chrysalis.