Do you feel that lump in your throat?
That’s not coronavirus. That’s called fear. I’ll be the first to admit it: I’m scared (and for those who know me and call me fearless, they know that that takes a lot).
I’m the type of girl who wakes up and eats fear for breakfast. But today I had pie. A whole pie.
I’m not scared of contracting COVID-19, but instead, I am scared of being a carrier and hurting my friends, I am scared of what restrictions they will hand down next, I am scared about getting my daughter from Oregon, I am scared of the stock markets opening tomorrow, I am scared of people losing their jobs or not getting paid, I am scared of how we are going to get news out and I am scared that we are doing this whole thing wrong.
So that’s my list. What’s yours?
The circumstances of 9-11 were different than those of today, but there was a definite fear, along with sorrow, that filled the air. There was devastation and uncertainty. For the first time, news anchors cried during their broadcasts, for years we cleaned up the destruction of some of our country’s most iconic buildings and forever we will remember scenes that are hard to talk about to this day.
I remember that there was hope, too. Hope was definitely sprinkled in there.
There were moments when we didn’t know if we should eat out or go to the mall, there was apprehension about getting on an airplane, there were days when we worried about what would come next.
But we, as a people together, resolved to do and be something more. We didn’t sit in the face of fear; I remember that we went back to class as soon as we could, we ordered food and took walks, we sang songs and bought new shirts. We talked about our fears, and shared our dreams, we processed through where we were and where we wanted to go together: we wanted to rebuild, we wanted to show each other kindness, we wanted to stand together.
We got up and ate fear for breakfast.
What we face in the days ahead is scary. But I believe that if we pull together and stick together, it can also be something that transforms us all.
I will continue to shop local in hopes that my friends and neighbors will continue to have jobs. I will continue to produce news so that my community can be informed. I will continue to call my friends so that they will not get lonely. I will continue to get up each day and do my part in the world because that is what we do. And more importantly, that is who we are.
We are creators and imaginators. We are builders and inventors. We are wordsmiths and artists. We are chefs and providers. We, the human race, are made of something magic.
And while we are just skin in bones in this lifetime, there is something more to our spirit that makes that skin and bones do the most incredible things.
I only know what right now holds. I know that I have to get my laundry done and I have to get my daughter home. But I also know that if we resolve to not let the outside elements penetrate us, if we move forward with a spirit of hope together in the upcoming weeks, we are going to do something amazing here.
We just have to choose to do the right things for a little while. And we have to choose to wake up with that lump in our throat, but not lose sight of where we are going. We have to choose to know that the sun will rise each morning, just as it has for millions of years, and it will set at night, just as it has for millions of years.
We have to choose to know. We have to choose us.
