The first paragraph of A Tale of Two Cities are applicable to right this moment:
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair. We had everything before us, we had nothing before us. We were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way."
These words have popped into my head amid the COVID-19 pandemic. We will see both the best in humanity as well as the worst. It will be a time of glaring selfishness (ALL the toilet paper) and a time of kindness that will make you cry.
Twice since Thursday, I have caught myself brought to a feeling of tearfulness over the kindness that someone has done or said. And I am in no way, shape, or form a tearful person.
We are currently seeing the wisdom and the foolishness--the people who are being mindfully aware and heeding scientists' instructions, and the people who think this entire thing is a joke.
Internally, I am struggling.
Although anxiety medication keeps me calm on the surface, I can feel a rumbling underneath.
I imagine it is what a volcano feels like in the days before an eruption.
From the outside, things appear calm; from the inside, there is much churning and roiling of hot liquid flames.
I suspect I am either experiencing a weird form of stress-induced neuralgia, or I'm having the early stages of a shingles outbreak.
A spot on my abdomen, which was fine on Monday, is now tingling and weirdly uncomfortable.
I am having to manage my own anxiety while trying to dampen my children's anxiety.
Trying to remind them that this is temporary; that this is one of those valleys that life throws you; while we may not be at the deepest part of the valley, eventually it will rise.
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair. We had everything before us, we had nothing before us. We were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way."
These words have popped into my head amid the COVID-19 pandemic. We will see both the best in humanity as well as the worst. It will be a time of glaring selfishness (ALL the toilet paper) and a time of kindness that will make you cry.
Twice since Thursday, I have caught myself brought to a feeling of tearfulness over the kindness that someone has done or said. And I am in no way, shape, or form a tearful person.
We are currently seeing the wisdom and the foolishness--the people who are being mindfully aware and heeding scientists' instructions, and the people who think this entire thing is a joke.
Internally, I am struggling.
Although anxiety medication keeps me calm on the surface, I can feel a rumbling underneath.
I imagine it is what a volcano feels like in the days before an eruption.
From the outside, things appear calm; from the inside, there is much churning and roiling of hot liquid flames.
I suspect I am either experiencing a weird form of stress-induced neuralgia, or I'm having the early stages of a shingles outbreak.
A spot on my abdomen, which was fine on Monday, is now tingling and weirdly uncomfortable.
I am having to manage my own anxiety while trying to dampen my children's anxiety.
Trying to remind them that this is temporary; that this is one of those valleys that life throws you; while we may not be at the deepest part of the valley, eventually it will rise.
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