Coronavirus: Yet Another Excuse To Fill Your Schedule!
Dear world,
You’ve gone crazy in the past few weeks.I’m looking forward to the day when the coronavirus takes a major chill pill. In the meantime, I’ll continue to have dance parties by myself and do more (anti-)stress baking.
With love, your quarantined friend –
Carmella
In the age of coronavirus, the importance of our digital life has become magnified in a way that feels startling and somewhat post-apocalyptic. Entertainment, health, community, work, religion—all aspects of our lives have gone from the real world to the digital sphere.
Instead of welcoming eight of my best friends (and one sweet baby! and two more in utero!) today at the San Juan airport—we’d been planning this reunion since the summer—I have to find comfort in seeing their smiling faces one-dimensionally on my computer screen. I’m grateful that we at least get that, but I can’t help but feel dejected about the major loss of spending a week together in the flesh, laughing and cooking and sharing. I know I’m not the only one struggling with heavy doses of disappointment right now…
But us humans, we’re resilient. The O, Miami Poetry Festival, which happens every April, isn’t cancelling its month-long schedule of events; it’s making them all virtual. Yoga teachers are guiding classes from their living rooms. Friends are having FaceTime dinner parties and guests are attending virtual weddings. In the face of disaster, people are optimistically re-thinking the status quo.
Adapting; it’s what we do.
And isn’t it surprising that us humans (Americans, at least) are adapting to a crisis by becoming even more busy than before??
If you’re like me, you might be feeling a bit overwhelmed by the onslaught of events happening in every virtual corner of the World Wide Web. Anyone else suffering from major pandemic FOMO? I find out about a salsa class after the Instagram live is over. I have to choose between attending a free seminar about mental health and jumping into a guided meditation. Meanwhile, my workload remains the same, meals still need to be prepared, and the house still needs to stay clean.
In her , Chrissy Hennessey writes about this very phenomenon: “People are rushing to fill the void with virtual versions of our old routines. I appreciate these efforts, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to recreate the world that was. Instead, I want to take this opportunity to slow down, to step back, to be bored and lonely and scared. To figure out what’s left when routines are removed, when schedules are stripped away, when daily distractions are distant memories.”
My sister commented to me that preparing for this pandemic feels a bit like preparing for a boat trip. Buying provisions, readying your vessel, getting your affairs in order to disappear from your regular routine for however long you’re going to be away—a week, or perhaps several months? Being on a boat is akin to being in quarantine; you’re stuck with the same people the whole time and you’ve got a finite amount of resources on-board. You’ve got to be prepared for the inevitable. The difference is, you can’t go to the grocery store down the street when you run out of milk and there’s no pizza delivery to satisfy a late-night craving. Likewise, scrolling through Instagram and FaceTiming with friends is impossible from the open ocean.
Since I was a kid, I’ve spent weeks at a time at sea. Time takes on a different cadence. At sea, we have no choice but to slow down and be bored. Still, I found peace in the fact that there was no choice in the matter. I had to be present, mainly because I didn’t have a clue what was happening elsewhere in the world. My reality was the boat that sheltered us on this journey across the sea.
I often gravitate to experiences that take me wholly out of my routine: long camping trips, stints of living off the grid. I guess the difference with those experiences and our current one is the fact that we didn’t choose this. We can plan for the future, but we don’t quite know what we’re planning for. The uncertainty is unsettling.
The Mayans have a concept called “day out of time,” which is the last day of the galactic year. This is a day free of time—a day for sacred pause.
The strange times we’re living in feel something like “time out of time.” So, amidst all the virtual knitting parties, Zoom webinars and grainy live concerts, perhaps we can use this pandemic as a time to pause and be present. I know that the rent still needs to be paid and the children still need their baths, but also consider any interior shifts and insights as you live through a global pandemic, an unprecedented experience for most of us. The important answers aren’t all in the group chats or in the news headlines. If only for a few moments every day, let the distractions fall away, be present with yourself in this strange reality, and see what you might find—uneasy discomforts, unleashed creativity, or surprising serenity.
Tip of the Week
Scan your mind for all your friends near and wide and think about those who could use a phone call right now. Then pick up the phone and call them!
Digital Life Around the Web
Self soothing with social media during a time of social distancing: "The other day, while I ate lunch, I kept replaying a video of a friend softening butter in her palm."
Content moderators don't work from home: "Without their labor, the internet might become a less free and more frightening place."
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