It is Thursday at work. I walk around a looped section of the hospital I work for in the Bay Area of California. I enjoy the environment so quiet and so serene– something that I mostly just enjoy in the more suburban sections of the region. It is a loop I manage to walk because work has rather been “slow,” relative to how it has been the past weeks.
Even weeks after being at a state of Shelter-in-Place, I still find, in my solo moments, how surreal things have become. I use the rather-broad, loose word “things” because I feel it encompasses nearly everything that is going on or that exists: the traffic, the work load, life, relationships.
I am enjoying this “new normal.” Even those words in quotation have become a cliche in the past weeks. I heard it a lot lately. Many describe their ways of life now with it– the masks, the “social-distancing,” toilet paper search, etcetera. But yes, I am certainly wallowing in the ironic turn into simplicity of life that, so much so, it scares me to go back to the way we were.
It will not be fair to wish to “stay” in this present reality. Because I know, as many know, how multitudes of lives are affected by the pandemic. Many lost their lives. Many lost their jobs. Many are barely getting by financially. Many are awaiting stimulus checks. Many are relying on government assistance. It is not easy for many. I consider myself fortunate. To be in this industry where I am considered “essential.” I consider myself blessed that while I had a headache this morning, I actually have a job to head to in a few hours, despite the physical pounding on my brain. I am thankful that there will be meals on the table next week or the next. For the roof over my head.
But it scares me that some of the things I enjoy in this “new normal” will be taken away: the absence of traffic jams that hounded me during rush hours. The stillness of activities in the workplace. The bonding I have with friends and family through constant communication because we actually have more time to reach out and call or text or Facetime because there are no malls to go, no shows in movie theaters to watch, no restaurants to wait in line at.
There are tons of little lights in this tunnel that many of us are waiting to come out from. Some of us see it. Some don’t. Sure, I live in a bubble– the Bay Area bubble. But I wish to savor it. I know others are hurting. Far away, people are dying. Sometimes, I die inside, too. Often, I wish I can help keep them from passing on on to the next life. But I can’t. I am limited in what I am capable to do. So I will savor and relish what I have. While quietly, praying for whatever it is that will relieve all the suffering. Hopefully, with whatever panacea there is to come, it will bring with it the promise that the bad of the old is left abandoned in that lost time capsule that was thrust in space somewhere.
Run.Brownie.Run. 