It is amazing how quickly we adapt to a new normal. A week ago, it felt strange to me when we approached a man on the sidewalk and he stepped out into the middle of the street to give us a wide berth. We’ve begun to do the same now, although I keep picturing a car taking me out as I try to dodge this amorphous virus.
I live in yoga pants as I am far more likely to do yoga or go for a walk if I’m dressed for it. When I have a Zoom meeting, I change my top from my workout clothes to preserve the illusion. I am guessing in a week there will be no illusions. We rearranged the furniture in our living room to make room for two yoga mats which appear to be taking up permanent residence.
We are at a point in time where grocery shopping can be the most dangerous activity we will encounter. I realize I’m not going into the forest to kill wild game that might decide to attack me, but the same concept applies. In some ways this is more dangerous in its seemingly innocuous and familiar nature.
Ordering groceries online remains an incredibly frustrating experience. I waited all day for a window to open up at Whole Foods and when it did, it had closed by the time I completed the required options. I get that they are filled up for the next two days, but why can’t I order for next week? And Target seems to have toilet paper set up as unavailable for pick up or delivery which means you need to go into the store. What’s up with that? Trader Joe’s which has some of my favorite foods really needs to figure out how to deliver before I go into almond biscotti withdrawal.
When the Seder we typically attend went virtual, I realized I had something new to stress over. Now I actually had to get Seder food when I can’t even get regular food. Do I have to go into a liquor store to get a bottle of Passover wine when the 11th plague could strike me as I pick up that wine bottle. And how do I get a shank bone when my husband is a pescatarian? I have concluded that rabbis through time have offered reprieves from such matters under unique circumstances so this certainly qualifies. I could have paper cut-outs on my Seder plate and it would be the thought that counts. After all this is a virtual Seder.
On the brighter side, I have become a big fan of Zoom. When a talk I was to give for the MN Jewish Genealogical Society could no longer be done in-person, I began to review web platforms to figure out how to do it on-line. I settled on Zoom and did it as a webinar this weekend. It was very well-received and played to an audience many times larger and broader than our usual events. I figured out how to pre-record on Zoom to reduce the stress level of a new medium. Later in the week, my Artists’ Lab met on Zoom. We began with a larger meeting and then broke into small groups which actually felt quite intimate and workable. Our use of these mediums is likely to continue even when in-person meetings are once again possible.
Every change spawns yet another one. That ability to record gave me an idea. I set up a member web page at MNJGS.org to house my presentation and I’m thinking of shorter presentations that I and others
So, life goes on, albeit in a much smaller physical sphere but a much larger virtual one. I have new frustrations and new satisfactions. I am grateful for the ability to live my life in a more restricted physical way to preserve safety, even as I expand my world and reach out to others.
Stay home, stay safe and embrace gratitude. Namaste.
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