What Does This Moment Require?
/Miguel has returned home from Carnegie Mellon. Minneapolis Public Schools are closed, so, Zeca is home. Listen To Your Mother is on hold during what is typically our busiest time of the year. Luisa works for the Minneapolis Health Department which means she is at work and her days are long.
Yesterday was the first day of this new normal.
I woke just as the sky was turning gray with streaks of pink and orange and I heard the familiar song of the cardinal just outside my window. For a brief moment, I forgot. Like most of us, my anxiety has been high but while the cardinal sang and the sun rose like it always does, I breathed normally for a bit. I think we are all going to have to hold onto those moments.
The new normal looked like me preparing meals for the kids, washing dishes, and doing some consulting work (and feeling grateful that I still have that for now). It looked like an afternoon walk with friends but with social distance, so, none of the hugs we would normally exchange. It looked like our regular Tuesday night dinner with friends happening by Zoom—everyone eating their own meals rather than one prepared for all of us, awkward conversations as we figured out how to navigate taking turns while all on screens, and toasts to better times. It looked like mediating the conflicting needs of our college student who is accustomed to quiet for studying and our high school student who still has to play the cello. It looked like a brief conversation between Luisa and me before I left her to work and I went to our bedroom to watch something with Zeca.
This new reality is setting in pretty quickly for all of us, though the cats seem pretty oblivious.
When I (or any of my loved ones) have been overwhelmed or anxious, I have always responded with, “What does this moment require?” The question takes the future off the table and focuses on the right now and what is in our immediate control.
So, I’m asking myself this question more often. For now, I’m keeping it simple. Food for my family. Sharing resources if able. Fresh air. Limiting my consumption of news. Connecting with others in the ways we safely can. Finding ways to engage my mind…which is why I’m writing this right now.
Uncertainty is so hard to sit with but when my chest begins to feel tight, I’m going to take some deep breaths, and ask, “What does this moment require?” There will be things big and small required of us. But, sometimes, the moment will require looking at the changing colors of the morning sky and listening to the songbirds before getting out of bed to face what’s next.