When I wrote my final post of 2019 I could never have predicted that I would be writing my next post in an effort to hold myself accountable and make some sense out of the anxiety, grief, and fear of a global pandemic. I’ve learned a few important things about myself in this process:
First, my initial reaction was to run and hide. Distance myself, dissociate, deny. Work was the last place I wanted to be, but it was the place I was supposed to be, so I went. After Michigan first reported cases of the virus I forced myself for two full weeks to show up and do the work required of me, in order to take care of the patients who were counting on me to communicate about their cancelled appointments and respond with compassion to their concerns.
Until yesterday, when I decided it was time for me to go home.
The second thing I learned about myself when running and hiding wasn’t possible is that I wanted information. As much as I could find. I closely monitored the websites tracking the virus numbers for my county, my state, my nation, and globally. I read all of the articles my facebook friends posted from epidemiologists about pandemics and virus trajectories, and I monitored news websites tracking the stories as health systems around the world started to break down and death tolls started climbing.
It took me a while to realize that my insatiable need to know up-to-the-moment information about how quickly the virus was moving and when it might reach me was so that I would know when it was time for me to stay home. I work in healthcare, so even during a government-ordered quarantine, I am still expected to show up, as long as there is work for me to do.
Yesterday several things coincided at once. My county, which up to that point still had not reported a single positive case of COVID-19, reported not one but three positive cases, confirming the presence of the virus in my local area. On top of that, an additional positive case from a neighboring county was brought into the hospital building that houses the outpatient clinic where I work, on the same floor as our clinic. Finally, at 11:00 yesterday morning Michigan’s governor gave the order for everyone not supporting life to stay at home and work from home if possible. That’s me. My work cancelling patients was finished. The only other option was to be a screener at the hospital entrances, checking for symptoms of the virus, which is more risk than I was willing to take for my own health and the health of my family. I made the decision on the spot that even if I can’t work from home, I will now be staying home.
I know that I am lucky to be able to make that decision. Privileged. I have a husband who is still employed, working from home, still bringing in income. We have enough cash flow to carry us through any budget tightening my temporary lack of work might bring, and plenty of family willing and able to support us if this gets even worse or the unthinkable happens and one or even both of us gets the virus.
I also feel fortunate to be able to support what I believe to be the best course of action to keep this virus from becoming a worst case scenario. Others I know are not so lucky to be able to choose to stay home. Some are forced to against their will when their jobs are shut down, and others have a much harder financial situation to navigate than I do, which makes the decision to stop working in some ways impossible.
I’m feeling self-centered on this first day of my self-imposed isolation, full of my own fears, thoughts, and adjustments to a new global reality. I have lost my sense of safety and security in navigating life, and I am struggling not to lose the sense of hope I have always had that love will always prevail and that a life lived from a place of love and joy and compassion will only continue to get bigger and deeper and fuller every day.
I am staying at home.
Self-quarantine, self-isolation. A friend on facebook shared a post choosing to call herself an artist-in-residence instead. I have decided to call it my Dream time. My fear is that I will let myself be overcome by the weight of grief and anxiety I am feeling and seeing all around me and end up letting this time at home slip away into lethargy and inaction. My hope is that I can reclaim my purpose and sense of wonder and enchantment with life and use this unexpected gift of time to grow something new, something hope-fueled and beautiful.
I am setting the intention for my time at home to be a time of dreaming, a time of being, and a time of doing. Doing what I can with what I have on hand, to lift up myself and all those around me I can’t imagine living without.
On this first day of my Dream time I have prepared soil to plant flower and vegetable starts indoors, I have ironed and hung a curtain that has been waiting to be hung for almost a year, I have played with my dogs, enjoyed my husband’s company, and yes, watched some Netflix too. I was grateful to get an extra hour of sleep this morning, and if I’m being completely honest with myself, I’m relieved not to have to work right now. Even in good times my preference is to be home, building a cozy nest for my little family, enjoying time together, and working on my self-development.
I am trying to find a balance between grief and gratitude.
I remain hopeful that gratitude will persevere.
