Finding the simple joys on the harder days

There are days in quarantine that just feel harder than others. And of course, they are. Pandemics are hard. People are dying. We already have more than 10,000 more than the estimate we were given two weeks ago for total US deaths. And we still lack adequate testing. And we can’t trust the information we’re given by our leaders as they work to silence the scientists who are most knowledgable. And people are storming state capitals with artillery and others are balking at the mere suggestion that wearing a mask might help others stay alive. Or they’re refusing to social distance in the name of “we want to go to work” when what they seem to mean is “I’m bored and I want to go to the beach.” (disclaimer: I KNOW people need and want to go back to work. That isn’t what those “protests” are really about anymore than they’re what this post is about). Of course this is hard. People are struggling financially, people are dealing with all kinds of things. It’s hard to watch the news most days. 

But when I say some days just feel harder than others, I mean hard on a more visceral level. The kind of hard where you feel like you’re going to cry and can’t really pinpoint something “that’s wrong,” but you know you just feel sad enough to, anyway. Maybe you miss your students and school the way it used to be. Maybe you had an “optional” Zoom class and no one showed up and even though you’re adult enough to know not to take it personally, you still do. Kind of. Or you sign in to a staff meeting that you don’t absolutely have to be at just because you want to see your co-workers’ faces for a few minutes. Or maybe you’re at the point where, in any other school year you’d be knocking out some of your best work and projects along with winding things down with students, but you can’t seem to make yourself do them the way you want to, instead inventing new things to do that don’t turn out the way you want them to.

And on these harder days, I suppose we have a couple of options. We can: 1) Wallow in the sadness; 2) Ignore and just push through; 3) Stop, take a breath and realize you’re not being terribly productive, lace up your shoes and go for a walk. If you opt for number three, here’s what could happen. You might get a couple of doors down and see these grand sidewalk chalk drawings that say, “Thank you” and “Thank you Teachers.” Maybe you get a little further into your walk and you see a family across the street with their dogs and you yell over to the 3-year-old who’s wearing a backpack, “Hey…that’s an awesome backpack,” (because that’s the sort of thing you typically do) and he strikes up a great conversation with you (from a distance). He tells you his dogs’ names and then, as you say goodbye, he finishes the conversation with, “Bye. Be safe!” And at this point, you tear up but also start smiling a little. As you keep walking, a song like “Titanium” comes on and it does exactly what you need it to do,, so you listen to it two or three (or maybe four?) times and you even add in the arm motions from your cardio dance class, not caring what others may think as they walk by you doing your big muscle arms. 

These hard days really are tough. This may be the hardest thing most of us, collectively, have ever had to do together. There’s no real instruction book on how to handle life in quarantine. Or what to do when the news brings us down and we become disillusioned or we miss things from LBC. We all have different ways of coping: Sharing funny memes, political rants, baking, creating, exercising. It sure feels like getting out and finding the simple joys during a midday walk is one sure thing I’ve found to help on days like this. What are some things that work for you?