Some vacillating ventilations
Miscellanea #54: A note from me on my porch, and little else
The past couple weeks at home, at intervals throughout the day, I’ve been thinking about what I could possibly say here. I still have no idea what to say — which means I’ve just gotta start typing.
The disorientation of it all. My own vacillations between pessimism and optimism. Selfish wishes for a return to normal, all the while enjoying the slower pace of life. The truth is, I needed this time — and too often for my own good, I’m the kind of guy that needs to be forced into change. How do I balance thankfulness for the forcefulness of these weird measures with the reality of three million filing for unemployment, the prospect of restaurant closures, and friends living with the shame of fear for not being able to pay their own rent? The disorientation of it all.
And despite the futile feuding of talking heads and internet buddies, it’s become blatantly clear — there’s an everyday overtaking of understanding, empathy, and compassion that’s usually reserved for happy internet accounts. Suddenly, there are bikes and trees and business men on family walks at 4pm.
Swinging back to pessimism — when this all goes back to normal, how quickly will the business men forget what it was like to walk hand-in-hand down the street with their first born? How long before the kids only see their business men in the dark, strangers?
I vacillate.
I have to confess that, in large part due to my privilege and luck, I get excited at the oncoming of a major event. This was not an exception. After all — otherwise, life trickles along with little comparative drama. The disruption, to be honest, is welcome. But it’s still confusing, this dance. Trying to balance my excitement for the disruption of societal norms with the impending doom.
No doubt, there’s something lovingly human about the collective response to it all. But there’s something deeper here — a gut reaction that if you choose to follow, brings out the best in you. There’s something about knowing something bad is coming that prompts a special part of us to balance that bad with overwhelming benevolence. What could life be like if this is how we lived — if it didn’t take a pandemic to spark us into action? What else could light our fire?
The truth is, there’s enough everyday bad in the world to spark us into action. But we turn away and look in the other direction. Our lives are too convenient and easy to bother with meaningfully throwing ourselves into the world’s problems. But I have to think that if we’re looking for fulfillment, we should bind ourselves to the world’s issues, stare them dead in the face at every turn, and learn them deeply. If washing our hands and staying home can slow the spread of a pandemic, exponential effect and meaning must register elsewhere, too.
Coming down from my soapbox, I hope you’ve been well. If you haven’t been, please reach out — maybe I can point you in a helpful direction. I don’t know.
Support small businesses! And musicians. And so many other great people. We’re in this together.
See you next Friday,
Michael