Infrequent creative expression
There’s been a fair bit of opportunity outlining in our current mode of staying at home — we’re encouraged to improve our homes, our minds, our fitness, our creative skills. There’s been an equally compelling backlash to this pressure for greater personal productivity. I’ve been seeking to strike a balance between being good to myself and being good for myself. They’re not always the same.
I’ve found it easier when I lean into a whim — upon brainstorming potential activities, I’ll feel a flicker of interest in painting. I grab my paints quickly and get to work. This might be the equivalent of clicking play on the first film you’re interested in from The Top 1000 Movies on Netflix Right Now rather than using your entire movie night to pick one.
More trust, more patience
Similarly, I’ve been calling my grandparents more frequently, upon thinking to. My grandmother asked me why with all the knowledge we have in the world we don’t have control of this disease. I said I think sometimes even when we know what to do it still takes a fair bit of time. She said she wishes everyone had more patience.
My grandmother has the admirable quality of trusting, though still asking questions of, those who know more than she does about a particular topic.
Imagining strange diseases
I’ve been steadying myself with imagination. There are so many diseases that could be less predictable — more beyond the scope of our understanding — than this one. Can you imagine a disease that puts the young and fit at greatest risk? It would give us such unease. What good are push-ups and marathons if not to make us feel more invincible?
Imagine a disease that transfers when you think of someone, or say their name. It would be a bit like love. It hurts at times, but there’s something magical about it. Or one that transfers when you take a photo. It doesn’t steal your soul, but it does steal a little bit of your life. You’d trade the permanence of that memory for a little time. Or a disease that transfers when you laugh. We might grow acclimated to the lack of laughter in our lives. Or else we’d all be biting our tongues to hold our faces straight, trying not to burst.
With this imagining, I don’t mean to diminish the challenge of the pandemic. The work people like healthcare workers and food providers are doing to maintain life is baldly honorable. And it can be starkly confusing when I look at my daily life and find that one of the most impactful things I can offer in the near-term is passivity. I can take action by exercising that gentle muscle, patience, and indulging creative impulses that are safe to satisfy.
