Getting Past Pandemic Fears

Carolyn J. Rose

 

 

 

Fear can cause us to fight. But fear can also cause us to freeze. And early reports about the pandemic did that to me. Even with a mask and gloves and a pop-up dispenser of wipes, I was afraid to leave the house. Paralyzed with fear, I brooded about all the activities I was missing out on, took my temperature several times a day, and read every scrap of information that appeared in the paper or on the internet.

And then, because so many reports conflicted with others, I got a grip and forced myself to get past the fear. Quarantine days can seem to be all the same. To counter that, I made a plan and designed a structure for each day. My goal was to begin with anticipation and direction, and end with a sense of accomplishment.

The first step was to eat right and exercise to stay as healthy as possible. The pool and gym were closed, but I got out into the yard and out on the streets for a long walk every day. I raked and weeded and pruned. When it got warmer, I painted and planted. I tried new recipes and ordered meals I’d never tried from local restaurants to do my bit to help them stay afloat.

The second step was to create ways to generate positive feelings and feel I was making progress instead of marking time. I made a list of chores I’ve been meaning to get around to for years and, one by one, I got around to them. I cleaned and sorted and reorganized, I enjoyed the tasks because, with nowhere else to go and not much else to do, I was able to take my time.

The third step was to network close to home. While I was walking and weeding, I waved at and then talked to neighbors whose names I didn’t know. I learned their names quickly and now we have social-distancing get-togethers where we bring our own drinks and food and chat for an hour or two. We help each other by shopping and running errands, lending books, recommending movies and TV shows, and passing along advice and recipes.

The fourth step was to reach out. As I culled and reorganized, I sent photos and knickknacks and books to friends I hadn’t seen for years. They responded. I wrote back. Now, I begin each day by emailing about 40 people who live all across the country, in Mexico, and in Scotland. I send short essays about the hummingbirds at my feeder, stealthy ways to give away zucchini under cover of darkness, worst and best teachers, memories of life in the 1950s, etc. When people respond and react, I often share their comments. We have a sense of community.

The final step was to make a list of what’s really important to me now and another of what will be important when the pandemic passes. As it turns out, the same things are on both lists—health, friendship, and a sense of purpose.

 

    

 

 

 

 

That Feeling of Being Rich

Carolyn J. Rose 

 For me, feeling rich has very little to do with the possessions I own, or the amount of money I have in the bank. And that’s a good thing, because I don’t own much, and I never made much to deposit. Money wasn’t a huge driving force in my life. Craving cash didn’t motivate me to pursue a sales-oriented career or strive to climb a corporate ladder. My financial goal was to make enough for food, shelter, transportation, and recreation.       Reaching that goal depended on how I defined those terms.

FOOD: I’m not a foodie and I don’t get much pleasure from cooking. I’m all for eating out, but cost plays a role in my enjoyment. My taste buds are happy with pasta, salad, an occasional dessert, and a bag of cheesy snacks now and then.

SHELTER: If my house has a roof that doesn’t leak, a decent heating and cooling system, and room for me to sleep, shower, relax, and set up my computer, that’s enough. I don’t need a mansion. I want a shelter, not a showplace.

TRANSPORTATION: It’s sweet to be able to afford a new car, but I shop for practical ahead of luxury. I go for a good deal over a bunch of buttons and gadgets.

RECREATION: Except for a brief time in my teens, I never dreamed of cruising around the world on a private yacht, gambling away thousands in Monte Carlo, or climbing Mt. Everest. I enjoyed hiking and camping and canoeing in my younger years, but now it’s all about movies, trips to the coast, Scrabble with friends, and water aerobics.

While it’s reassuring to check my bank balance and find I’m not in the red, the bottom line has little to do with feeling rich. That feeling depends far more on other factors.

HEALTH: I’m still standing. Better yet, I’m still standing on my own. At the age of 70, that makes me feel like I just found a handful of change under the sofa cushions.

ATTITUDE: Lately, given the political climate, I’ve been looking for—and leaning toward—the positive. I’ve tried not only to keep my sense of humor, but to use it to make others smile and even laugh. If I can lighten their moods, I feel I’ve contributed something of value.

FRIENDS: I don’t have a vast number of friends, but the ones I have are prime. They’re accepting, amusing, and not easily offended by remarks I might blurt out without thinking. We take each other as we come, and as we are.

PETS: The dogs, cats, and birds I’ve lived with haven’t all been perfect roommates. But they’ve all left me with lessons about love, loyalty, and letting go.

BOOKS: I’ve been privileged to have had the time, energy, and imagination to write 20 books. More importantly, I’ve been privileged to read thousands. Some I bought, but most I borrowed. I love bookstores, and I love libraries. 

Checking out an armload of books from the beautiful library in downtown Vancouver gives me a sense of wealth far more powerful than receiving a dividend check from an investment fund.