A week ago we were sitting at work talking about how quickly the Corona situation was escalating. News of closed gyms and limited gatherings were there, and we were wondering what now. Only the day before we’d been open, and while taking the hygiene precautions and reminding each other to not hug or shake hands, there was a sense of support in each other, and normality was still there. Then suddenly it all changed. From being a crisis in China and Asia, then Italy, it had well and truly arrived in Norway.
Friday morning we sat in our staff meeting. News of the closing of all schools and kindergartens for two weeks had come the evening before. We sat there with so many questions and few answers. The one thing we knew for sure was that this was a time to be available and present. A time to be proactive, and to make sure our people knew that we were there even if we weren’t open. That day we made many phone calls and sent messages and emails. Some were worried and needed reassurance, others were not worried, some needed words of wisdom, and others appreciated the reminder that they were not alone. The uncertainty of what this all meant was on everyone's minds.
A surreal weekend came and went. In the supermarkets they struggled to keep shelves stocked, because people worried and ended up buying extra. But that slowed down because we realised there is plenty of food and toilet paper, and buying extra should only be to limit the amounts of trips to the shops, not to create a private stock of canned goods and toilet paper.
This week has been long and wearying. Not because it’s been a taxing week, everything has slowed down, and we are all trying to limit contact with others and staying home as much as possible. But the uncertainty wears on everyone. For some it’s wondering if they’ll have a job when this is all over, or if their entire livelihoods will be gone. For others it’s wondering about how the healthcare system will cope when the number of cases increases and more people get sick. For others it’s wondering if they will make it if they were to get infected… It’s a time like no other.
And yet, even only a week into this (well, a week since extreme measures were taken) I see hope. I don’t really have an opinion on the progression of the virus and how long it will last, but the hope I see is in humanity. I see hope when people volunteer to help strangers, who are in quarantine or isolation, with grocery shopping and practical help. I see hope when people make an effort to contact those they know might be alone, to let them know they are not alone. I see hope when hundreds volunteer to help with health care related tasks when it gets to that. And I see hope when individuals do small acts of kindness towards each other (a florist gave away 100 bouquets of flowers because they weren’t sold and she didn’t want to waste them).
And then I widen my perspective. And I realise how privileged I am. Privileged to be healthy. Privileged to have a so far secure job. Privileged to have a lovely home I can stay in (even if it can get a bit boring and lonely at times). Privileged to have people I can call and message. And to live in a country where the government daily is making decisions to ensure that as a nation we get through this in one piece, and have a normal to return to when Corona is over.
And my thoughts and prayers go to those who find themselves in a different reality. Those in refugee camps whose lives have been on hold for years. Refugees who have no way of keeping a 1 meter distance between themselves, let alone keep their hands clean at all times. I pray for my beloved Brazil where for the more affluent it might be easier to stay separate from others, but what about the communities where people live closer together and where life is lived in community?
In the midst of crisis the challenge and invitation is to not get overwhelmed and afraid, but to be wise and remain in rest. And in the midst of a terrible crisis around the world, we can still look for light and seek to be thankful and kind to each other. And hope that maybe this time of physical distance can bring us nearer to each other, and that the gift of time (when everything is closed) can cause us to evaluate our priorities and discover what is really important in life.
And so I choose peace, patience, and prayer; and I choose to take a day at a time, trusting that eventually this too will pass, and hope that at least some good can come out of it. And even if this is all so very real and consuming right now, as humans we are prone to forget as time passes, and so I choose to write this blog, mostly for myself, so that what is so vivid now can be recorded for when times are different.