By Dani Tietz
dani@sjodaily.com
I saw a friend the other day who asked how I am doing.
It’s not an unusual question, but one that I rarely take time to answer honestly. “I’m fine,” or “I’m good,” I usually say.
I didn’t delve into a huge confession about my state of being, but I did say, “I actually really like this. I’m an introvert, so this is so wonderful.”
Please understand that I’m not jumping up and down with glee. I am so scared that people will get sick, that they will struggle to breathe, that COVID-19 will have lasting effects on their body, that people will die. Please know that I spend every second of the day worrying about what this looks like financially; that some of my friends are without jobs and without money. Please know that I understand that even as we head into 2021, this will still be in the forefront of our minds and that there are lasting implications here. The magnitude weighs so heavily on me that my anxiety picks up every single day.
But, I am also beginning to feel like myself and I am beginning to feel recharged.
When I told her that I’m an introvert, she was surprised. My day-to-day consists of running from here to there, talking to every person in my path, scheduling lunches, taking photos and writing articles in the car. Because this is my job, people think it is also my personality, but really, what I need most is time to just be.
Being an adult in this world, at this time, we are expected to mass produce, to be everywhere at one time, to juggle our own lives, the life of our partners and the lives of our kids, to want to go to parties, to be in the business networks, to volunteer on a regular basis, to fulfill our religious responsibilities, to go to the festivals and to include ourselves in the world so that we are doing our part. Oh yeah, and lunch; we have to eat lunch.
I can do all of this, and I do most of it, but it’s not what my heart and soul need. What I need is happening right now. The stay-at-home order has given me permission to stay in one place with my children, in my pajamas, with my laptop. While I am reporting, I don’t have to report anywhere. I don’t have to be anything I am not. I don’t have to run anywhere.
Aside from the sickness, death and financial ruin in our world, I am also worried about having to go back to the way things were. I don’t want to live that way again. And I am beginning to ask my 40-year old self, if the rest of the world goes back, what can I do to make sure that I still have at least some of this?
I realize that I am privileged enough to even have these thoughts. I know that my ability to watch families play chalk in their driveway together and spend time playing cards with my family each night makes me unique. That is not lost on me.
What is also not lost on me is the fact that when the world “reopens,” we can jump back into the deep end, treading water after this is over or we can take notice of what worked in our personal lives and what didn’t work, then make some changes.
When I said that I’m an introvert, my friend was surprised. She said, “I wouldn’t say that about you.”
I like people. I do enjoy being around people. I care about people deeply. And I’m full of ideas. I bring people into my ideas because I know that we all produce great things when we are working together.
But my being thrives in solitude. I am able to observe, to process, to take in the richness of this world. It’s what I crave. My insides are not buzzing the way that they have in the past. Even though I’ve never experienced this, just being, I’ve missed it. And I’m grateful for the opportunity to realize that.
