My yearly solo ukulele gig got canceled so I’m gonna live-stream the concert that was supposed to happen tonight at 8 PM instead. It won’t nearly be the same, of course.
My daughter’s school schedule for the coming week landed in my inbox this morning. The document was an automated mail out that was written a few weeks ago so it serves as a kind of time capsule of what was then so it has become a grim reminder of what we have lost.
The schedule for next week included the girls’ rugby practice on Monday and the parent/teacher interviews on Thursday. And, in big bold letters:
EARTH HOUR, March 28, 8:30 PM
It feels like Earth itself has extended this token hour into weeks. It’s as if Mother Gaia has had a tantrum after being patient all these years.
It’s about time we paused and paid some respect, She seems to say.
The advertising of lunch club activities like Djembe drumming or Magic and Boardgames, Mindfulness Mondays or Model UN meetings seem banal and stark against the new reality.
This plan was made weeks before they knew that school would be closed indefinitely because of the pandemic. Suddenly, everybody’s own personal plans are also up in the air.
It is literally just like they say in the movies: I woke up to a different world one day.
Every morning since, I wonder if I’m waking up from a bad dream. Just because everything is different, it doesn’t mean this isn’t going to lead to something better.
Everybody is afraid of change, that’s what makes it difficult to move forward. The only way for a brave new world is to lose the old one. The opportunity is definitely here. I have been working on embracing uncertainty and change. There are specific methods; many teachers have already sharpened these methods into tools.
I’ve been relegated to my room by my art practice, my financial precariousness, on top of my propensity for solitude for many many years now before the phrases “self-isolation” and “social distancing” were coined. I’ve built a good foundation for my work-at-home routine. It keeps me going.
Staying close to a consistent regimen is key for me. Whole foods, yoga, and my personal projects lined up like ducks in a row. I’m my own best master whipping my slave self to following the plan. Is that what they call “self-discipline”?
Wash on. Wash off. I’m my own Mr. Miyagi to my inner Karate Kid.
Teachers. If it hadn’t been for those who saw something in me, this fire inside would not have been so bright. It makes me think that the recognition of that spark in the other is what lights the fire.
How can I do that for others? How can we sharpen this method into a tool? Can we do all of this alone but together? This is how the world changes.
Perhaps I can inspire just by being my unique self. That would make it easy.
Easy peasy.