Panic Breeds Irony
I look around and I see irony. People are being told to avoid crowds, so they wait in long lines to horde toilet paper, hand sanitizer, pasta, beans, and rice. The State of California passes an incomprehensible law which essentially makes it illegal for people to work from home, then starts passing edicts to make people work from home to avoid spreading COVID-19.
I’ve always believed humans are the most contrary beasts on earth (yes, even more so than cats), but it’s reaching all new heights in these wild and woolly days. Just when I think the human race has gone about as insane as it’s possible to go without imploding, they raise the bar even higher. Where will it all end?
The inmates have taken over the asylum, though we call them “politicians” these days. For awhile, I thought it was just the US politicians, and maybe the Russians, but the Brits have shown their own streak of insanity in many ways of late with a little help from the Royals, and friends in Australia and Canada tell me it isn’t any better there.
Instead of having the best and brightest running our countries, we’ve managed to elect, the most self-serving, and least sane from a crop that hasn’t given me much hope for the civilized world of late.
Finding the Silver Lining
Still, there are bright spots in this dark cloud. Freeways which we’ve grown accustomed to 
parking on while trying to get from here to there are nearly empty. Borders have been closed voluntarily, without any help from a wall which, if you ask me was doing more harm than good, and serving as one more example of how sheep-like Americans have become. Less traffic means less pollution without any help from the now-powerless EPA.
Better still, families actually have time to spend together instead of working long hours, or commuting while kids were raised by others. Yes, it means real struggles to pay bills over the next few months; businesses going bankrupt when they can’t bounce back from lengthy closures, and a global economy in worse shape than I think I’ve seen it in my lifetime despite market crashes and gas crises.
It means seniors like me might be isolated for awhile, but at least we can communicate via the internet, telephones, and perhaps even manage some face to face events virtually. The technology that’s been isolating us for years may actually be what helps us stay together while locked in our own homes until the latest pandemic virus dies out for lack of hosts.
It might see the resurrection of family game night, or parents taking the time to read to their children, or teach them new skills. I remember spending weeks at Christmastime baking with my daughters. Perhaps a few more kids will know how to make Snickerdoodles by the time they go back to school—whenever that might be.
Choosing the Safest Option: Self-quarantining
Meanwhile, I’m roaming around my house and garage looking for projects, unearthing cleaning products I stopped using in favor of greener choices; products which say they’ll kill viruses. I’ve cleared out decades-old canned goods I barely wanted to touch, they looked so hideous.
And I’m not even on forced isolation yet. But I’m motivated to self-quarantine by stories of people my age being left to die because there are only enough resources to treat some of the gravely ill, and the criteria they’d have to use says I’ve lived my life. What makes them think a senior is less useful than a 20- or 30-year old? The irony here is a willingness to lose the knowledge we’ve accumulated in favor of youth and an unknown amount of potential.
I suspect once the governor makes isolation official instead of merely a suggestion, I’ll spend a lot of time getting my affairs in order, because you just never know. Already several of the clubs my friends frequent have announced they’re closing. Dance events have been cancelled one by one, not only in the Country community, but everywhere that dancing is a contact sport. Many were already staying away voluntarily anyway.
Focusing on Those Who Depend on Me
We have to think about things like who around us is most at risk, whether that tickle in our 
throat is our usual allergies, or maybe something else. We talk about meeting virtually to prevent contagion because symptoms don’t show up until you’ve been infected for a week or two; maybe more. And are the animals who are the one spark of sanity for many of us at risk too? Though there are assurances our pets are safe, people are already quarantining theirs, or abandoning them in fear. I’d take them all in if I could.
My own cats stick close, and fret whenever I leave the house. My forays are getting shorter and shorter, and increasingly less frequent, much to their obvious relief. Even my outside cats rarely leave the garage, whether or not the sun is shining. They circle my legs, begging for attention whenever I open the door.
Strangely, my biggest fear is of getting stuck in the hospital and leaving them to the once-daily care of my cat sitter. He loves them and takes great care of them, but it’s not like having me there all the time. Of secondary concern is my lack of a portable computer right now, so I’d be stuck in the hospital with only my phone and maybe some books for company, unable to keep up with my publishing goals.
I may be a few weeks ahead right now, but two weeks or more in a hospital (assuming they had a bed for me) would put me behind again, and that stress combined with worry over my cats would do little for the state of my health.
Making De-Stressing a Priority
Yes, I recognize the irony of worrying myself into a state of dis-ease, and am doing my best to 
meditate out of it. But lack of work while everyone tries to figure out AB5 isn’t helping either. There was a time I’d finally gotten my propensity to worry under control, but with so many options on the stress menu lately, it’s getting harder and harder to avoid making choices. That’s where the real irony lies. Stress weakens the immune system making me more susceptible to all the things I’m trying not to worry about.
So I pause, find something so ridiculous it makes me laugh (toilet paper hoarding usually does it), do another meditation with Dylan lying across my chest, and try to breathe my way through it. In a way, it’s like the strength training I do, except the push is coming from outside forces (more or less). I have to remember to breathe through the pain; the anxiety; the pointless worry. I have to remind myself over and over that I’ve survived worse, and I can survive this.
The trick is to put one foot in front of the other without giving my mind too much time to ponder where or why I’m placing that foot.
About the Author
Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri 
believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income. If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author. And check out her new group, Putting Your Whole Heart Forward.
Be sure to watch this space for news of the upcoming releases of ” Rebuilding After Suicide” and “Sasha’s Journey”.
