August In The Time Of Corona—Part Two: Resetting—The Plan

Last week, I wrote about my recent staycation, where I reflected on this crazy period. If you didn’t have a chance to read it, click here. Specifically, I thought about the following:

• The timeframe is indeterminate. The timeframe seems to be lengthening. Or at least could. But we don’t know. Hence the problem. My denial that this would pass quickly isn’t working any longer.

• The outcome is unclear. We know that there will be a new tomorrow that will certainly look different, but we have no idea.

• The world has gotten more complicated. In addition to the virus, we have major social inequity issues, growing economic issues, and significant political unrest. 

• It not a happy time. Anybody who is normally positive is challenged by this. Happy just doesn’t sound right. 

Given all this, I realized I needed to reset myself, and develop a plan so that I could perhaps not “thrive,” but at least grow a bit, laugh some, and have some moments of joy.

And I reflected on changes I put in place about five-ish years ago, when I was just beginning the journey of being caregiver to my husband, who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. And weirdly, other than the political unrest, etc., some of the variables were the same. 

So what’s the plan, and how am I doing? Here’s a status:

1. Find a good therapist. Check.

2. Continue to read stuff about how people survive during difficult times. Check.  (Check out Viktor Frankl’s “Man’s Search for Meaning.” Try to get over the fact that he says “man” whenever he means “human.”)

3. Start reading fun stuff too. Check.

4. Watch less news. Watch more comedies. Check.

5. Be active. For me, that means walking/hiking—for me any time outdoors is good. Check.

6. Pay attention to my feelings, but only in moderation. Find things that help get out of one’s head. Be in the moment. Stop and smell the roses (safely, please). Look at the flowers. Listen to the birds. Getting there.

7. Focus less on being happy all the time, and search/create for moments of joy. And don’t feel guilty when you find them. Getting there.

8. Listen to music. A lot. Remove all sad, grieving songs from playlist. Add new motivational, fun songs. Check.

9. Sing and dance. Finally, a silver lining to being alone—nobody is negatively impacted by my lack of talent! Check.

10. Laugh. I have been feeling guilty about making jokes on Zoom calls—these are *SERIOUS* times. Enough. Laughter is good. Even giggling. I have spent most of my life not “giggling” (too girly) but now have a male friend who is proud that he giggles. I love that. Getting there.

11. Laugh at yourself. I’ll always be grateful for a college friend who made me learn to laugh at myself. And I have lots of material. Getting there.

12. Enjoy silly moments. Laugh at the cats on the keyboards on Zoom calls. The husbands in the background asking where something is (some things never change). The kids being kids. The dogs being dogs. Getting there.

13. Lean on your friends. They get mad when you don’t. I know. Getting there.

14. Let your friends lean on you. We all have people in our lives that are going through horrible things, in addition to the rest of this craziness. It breaks my heart, but it helps me to listen and love them. I hope it helps them too. Getting there.

15. Be grateful. I have so much to be grateful for—I am (virtually) surrounded by people that love me, and that I love. I have privilege. I just moved to a gorgeous place in Washington state. I have an amazing dog that is full of joy every moment. Check.

16. Express your gratitude. A friend challenged me to send a note to a former colleague about how much I valued his leadership, and I did. And I have a plan to do one of these once a week. Full disclosure—the same friend insisted they be handwritten notes. They’re not—they’re typed. Apologies. But I figured a typed note that they received was better than a handwritten note that was never written. And so far they have gone in regular mail—who doesn’t love getting real mail these days? I know I’ll miss some weeks, but any of these notes are better than none. Getting there.

17. Pay it forward. Something I’ve done occasionally over the years but read recently that it truly makes a difference for both parties. So every day I’m trying to pay it forward in some way. I’ve bought coffee for the person behind me (social distanced, outside at a coffee “window”), bought a beer for the person behind me (again, social distanced, outside) at my local dog bar (have I mentioned that I love Bellingham?), bought a meal for the person behind me at the drive thru. I’m grateful I can do this right now, and I’ve had little glimpses of the recipients smiling. Smiles are good. Getting there.

18. Be you. I’m proudly—but respectfully, I hope—being me. I’m expressing my opinion more—I have masks that express my political opinions. It makes me happy, and I’m proud to be wearing my heart on my sleeve. Or face. Check.

19. Ask for what you need. This also means saying no to things that aren’t important to you. This will *always* be a work in progress for me. Well…getting there???

20. Don’t focus on a future date when this will be “over.” There’s evidence that soldiers were more likely to survive concentration camps if they believed they would make it but didn’t allow themselves to be disappointed when “Christmas” or “their wife’s birthday” passed by. Getting there.

21. Tell people you love them. Why not? I do, and life’s short. (Of course, show some discretion.) Check. 

22. Be gentle with yourself. Know you’re likely to have moments when you are depressed and/or anxious and/or both, depending on your leanings. Know that you are not perfect. It doesn’t mean you’re weak, or bad. It’s not your being, it’s a sucky time. Reframe it. I’ve even named my depression—it’s Fred. So when my motivation is off, I blame Fred and go cuddle with my dog. [No, I don’t know why “Fred”—and with apologies to a real Fred I know, a dear colleague and friend who is consistently happy and arguably the nicest man in the world.] Getting there.

23. FIND MEANING. This may be the most important. Find meaning in what you do. There’s a good bit of research that finding meaning/having a purpose is key to getting through tough times—from surviving concentration camps to getting through grief. Luckily, this is something that many do naturally—whether it’s helping your children during this time, inspiring people to care about animals, saving wildlife, caring for your teams, or thinking about what you’re learning during this time. Or all of the above. You’ve got this one. 

Final thoughts  As a caveat, I’m guessing that some might say “easy for you to say”. I’m kind of retired—working part-time. I can’t imagine how hard this is to go through when you’re working full time, when you’re caring for and teaching children, when you or your spouse have lost their job, etc., etc. I also know that happy sayings and smiley faces won’t fix this (although I do know more about emojis than I used to before all this). This still sucks and we can’t pretend that is not so. I know we all will still get angry, be afraid, and cry. I remember—I did so while I was a caregiver. And do now.

But hopefully there are little bits in here that can help all of us survive, if not thrive. I guess because I survived my husband’s illness, I also believe I—and we—will survive this. 

And let’s do it together. Let’s work to find ways to meaningfully connect, even if virtually. Let’s listen. Share. Laugh at each other’s jokes. Let’s giggle. Be compassionate about what is heartbreaking in each other’s lives. And hopefully be compassionate with ourselves.

Giggle, love, and be gentle with each other and yourselves. 

Jackie