Published in The Greenwich Sentinel on April 2, 2020

These days, I reluctantly rise from bed to begin anew. Some people say it’s like Groundhog Day, referring to the Bill Murray movie, where every day is exactly the same. I try to write but feel uninspired, flat and stuck. I long for the days when ideas and thoughts struck me, in the pickup line, in a meeting or on the squash court, and I would scramble for a scrap of paper to write them down. Before sheltering at home, it was hard to find enough time to write. Now, one would think, I should be filling up my yellow legal pads. I should be writing a novel. But doing a load of laundry and contemplating my family’s next meal take all day and all of my energy. It’s an achievement, and I guess that’s something. 

I am a rule follower and, to that end, I have been out of the house only to go to the pharmacy and grocery store. It feels like I am breaking out of jail, and I move cautiously, conspicuously, dressed in a cap and rubber gloves, giving other shoppers a wide berth. I haven’t showered or worn pants with a waist in days.

Strolling down the frozen food section, avoiding metal surfaces, I see a friend six feet away. “Icy, how are you? How is everyone?” We have a quick catch up and then she says, “You know, new times, new skills.” And that’s so true.

I organized an online Zoom surprise party for my daughter’s 14th birthday. I set up the meeting and sent out an email inviting her friends to join us. No goodie bags. Just meeting ID’s and passcodes.

I took a friend’s online yoga class. New to screen mirroring, I ran it through my Apple TV onto the big screen. 

I have learned how to behave in a Zoom board meeting and I am applying the appropriate etiquette, mike off, mike on. Video off, for a tea break or bathroom break. Video on.

For this technologically challenged individual, these are definitely new skills. 

In the cold and flu section of CVS, I saw another friend. “You always have a positive spin on things,” she said. All I could think to reply was, “This is challenging.” And then mumbled something about “new times, new skills.”

I don’t feel overly positive these days. There you have it. I find this social distancing challenging. For someone who usually finds a “positive spin,” this is a difficult confession.

And, as I consider this, I think about Elisabeth Kubler-Ross’s five stages of grief--denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance--and I feel myself cycling through these stages throughout the day. We are all experiencing some loss, even those of us who are safe at home without health complications. There is the loss of freedom, loss of social interaction, loss of routine, loss of normalcy, and then there is fear - fear of the virus, fear for our older parents and for those with immune deficiencies, fear of the unknown, fear of the economic downturn and fear of what lies ahead. That’s a lot. 

I went into our daughter’s room the other night. She was flat out, head down, on her bed. “Mom, I want to see my friends. What about lacrosse? Will we have our dance recital?”

If my autoparent had kicked in, my go-to response would have been, “Think how lucky we are. Others are sick. Others are working on the frontline, the grocery stores, food banks.” And, this is true, but I stopped myself and said instead, “I know, sweetie - it sucks.”

It’s okay to acknowledge our own sadness, the activities that we are missing, the friends that we are missing, our old boring routine, our norm, even during a global pandemic. 

That same daughter announced at our family dinner last night, “It’s both a blessing and a curse,” and for those of us who are healthy and out of harm’s way, that’s a pretty solid statement.

We are enjoying dinners together every night, movies, puzzle time and coloring, and lots of conversation. 

We are witnessing our adult children be adults. 

We are watching siblings strengthen old and forge new bonds with each other. 

And we are getting another chance to show our children again and again that we really love them.

And yet, being removed from our typical life can be very disorienting, and sometimes depressing, and can feel like a curse. And depending on your temperament, time at home, alone, or with limited contact with others can be very isolating. 

Can we feel both blessed and cursed at the same time?

Over twenty years ago, I spent sixteen weeks on bed rest in the old Greenwich Hospital. I bring it up now because our current state of sheltering at home reminds me of my time on my back. I was a little more restrained (in a bed) and I had an end date (the birth of our twins), but there are definite similarities.

I remember the first week was the hardest. My body needed to reset. I had to become physically still and my mind needed to quiet. I had to ask others for help. I literally could do nothing on my own. And I had to make a lot of changes, including canceling any summer plans that did not include a bed and a hospital room. I had to learn to accept my new situation. I created a schedule, which was funny because really what was I going to do. I made rules like no daytime tv. I created my own strategies for survival. I had my own mental health tips. And sometimes it was hard to feel motivated, to follow any of my self-induced suggestions. It was hard to rise in the morning. 

Today, I find myself needing to adjust my pace and quiet my mind, again. I have written out schedules and have put in place strategies to keep myself and my family healthy and strong. And I am learning to cancel and postpone and accept. I have asked others for help, and have offered help. We need each other right now.

A few days ago, I got an email asking me to list my greatest accomplishments. Without much thought, what immediately came to mind were the times when I felt the most challenged. Off the top of my head, surviving the bed rest I just described, running the NYC Marathon, caring for a sick child, getting sober. All of these times were steep with trial. Each one made me recognize the degree of difficulty, dig deep emotionally, ask big spiritual questions, and look to others for help. While we coast through the good times, it’s the challenging ones that make the difference. Learning to shelter at home is a great accomplishment too. 

In life, we will encounter hard and tough times, but I have always found love is right there too. And this is my positive spin.

No matter how you are feeling - blessed, cursed, challenged, stuck, lonely, or a little of each - as sure as the sun will rise, even if concealed behind the clouds, there is love rising all around us. 

I see it in the selfless acts of our neighbors. I see it in the extraordinary people doing extraordinary things to ease the suffering of others. I see it in the advertisements created by companies like Nike and Budweiser. I see it (and hear it) from amazing musicians offering concerts from their living rooms. I see it in the healthcare workers who go into work each day and care for the sick. I see it in texts and social media posts, and in the humor that is passed from one to another to another. I see it in the yogis and physical trainers who are offering online classes to those of us craving exercise and I see it in the therapists who offer their advice on how to stay mentally strong. I see it in the teachers who are reaching out to their students and who are quickly adapting to a new way of teaching. I see it in our leaders who are working to find ways to limit the harm. And finally, I see it in the ordinary people, like you and me, who are staying home and in doing so, are experiencing loss, but keeping everyone safe.

I hope you see it too.