Armageddon?

I’ve stopped watching the news. It seems that every day, the world listens with bated breath. We wait for an announcement that Armageddon has indeed arrived. Yes, that today is the day every ‘doomsday prepper’ will find validation. And the day everyone else will lose their mind. This week, I have learned many things about myself. I haven’t wanted to touch a keyboard because honestly, I cope with stress in a few ways. I wait in denial. I eat. Or I write about it.

After a week of being quarantined, I’ve realized that I am indeed locked in the house. There may be a time when food will be rationed, so if I keep up the stress eating it might make me the most logical choice to be voted off the island. Now I am left with my last futile coping mechanism, the written word. You see, I’ve had trouble lately. This virus thing, It’s really screwed with my book. I have nearly everything completed. It should go to print within a week, but the printer is located on the East coast, where the Coronavirus map is lit up like a Christmas tree. So, my launch date might be pushed back a few weeks. I have been writing, just not to you. Journal, I have a huge thing I am working on. My first book, I knew what I would write about, I knew roughly what would be included in it before I started. I went to Starbucks and wrote every day. Eight months later, I had a manuscript.

See, I love writing. I love the flexibility that this career provides me. I get to set my own hours, and as long as I stay on track with my deadlines and productivity, I can come and go as I please. I get to be fully involved in my kids’ lives. I don’t need to search for a ‘balance’ between work and life because I already have it built in. I think love is a fluid, like water. You know how water seeks its own level? Well, I love what I do, and I love who I do it for. I have this passion for both my work and my family. But to be honest, with this quarantine I am struggling a bit to keep everything in line and to enjoy everything. It’s getting a bit tough to maintain a balance-- to get everything to seek its own level, as it were. As a writer, I need a certain environment to get work done. I’ve been working like mad to tie up all the loose ends that I can with the book, but when my daughter knocks on the door begging “Daddy! Come play with me!” How do I turn that down? That is what I am doing this for! I want to be more present in their lives. I also need to put another manuscript in the pipeline.

My altar has been closed. I can no longer go sit in the corner of my favorite coffeeshop or kick back in a chair at my local library. Everything has been shut down. So how do I continue to work on something that I love which supports the people whom I love, when I can’t get away? I’m finding boundaries are very difficult to establish. I am also discovering that I am totally in the right lane here. While working all the time from home might not work in the long term, I have been reaffirmed in doing what I am doing. I can’t escape this family if I wanted to.

Stealing away for a few hours a day in order to write might just be a necessary part of my job. But continuing to spend more time with my kids has become a necessary part of my life.

It seems like people are starting to panic. The word “pandemic” seems somewhat scary. But that’s just the first glance. Instead of the words, the emotion, the fear, these things can all be categorized or looked at as negative-- I prefer to focus my attention on the people who are feeling and saying these things. I am truly captivated by the world as people react to the uncertainty and novelty of this thing. I watch as fellow humans decide how to respond to the unknown. Should we meet it with apprehension? With confidence? Do we build forts of Charmin Ultra? Or, do we make the daring choice to get our $#!+ together and face this thing head on?

Journal, I don’t pretend to know what is going to happen, I am just one of 7.8 billion people in the world with a guess. I don’t even think my guess is worth anything, after all I don’t have enough information to pretend that I am credible. But If I had to say something to the world, I wouldn’t say anything.

Life is much more entertaining without an expiration date. I once knew the date of my death. When It was taken from me, the certain doom stripped my identity away along with it. I have come too far in life to let a countdown define how I live. That being said, it sure is beautiful to get a refreshed valuation on life. I see people in the stores, most hoard for end-times but if I take my glasses off and pause for a moment, I see it. An instance of beautiful connection between humans.

A doomsday prepper offering half of their stock of paper goods to an elderly woman in search of a week’s worth of toilet paper. Two mothers approaching the last two packs of pullups, identifying with each other. Both realizing the predicament of not being able to provide for their children, then splitting the supply. I don't see a need to panic. I get to see my daughter decimate her lunch. I usually miss that. I get to practice my basket weaving skills out of sheer boredom and popsicle sticks. Let's keep our sanity. We are surrounded by a lot of cut-throat jerks in this world, Journal. But in times like these, if I look hard enough, it is truly beautiful to see strangers treat fellow humans like family, maybe just maybe, my world family won’t break quite yet.