We're currently in the tail-end of a heatwave here in our region of the Bay Area. For the past 2 days, temperatures have been over 100 degrees F (39 degrees C for all of you who use the metric system) with today being 10 degrees cooler (only 32 degrees C). I've been tempted to place a frying pan on the sidewalk to see if I could actually fry an egg, but I've been too physically drained to do much more than what you see Jaxson doing (and he looks a lot sexier than I do while doing it).
In the midst of this, Maddy and Teddy have been finishing their last week of school. Though they are both ready for a break from distance learning and super excited about completing 1st grade, there's an element of sadness as they want to see their teachers and their classmates. Video conferencing isn't filling that social need for either of them, resulting in a happy/sad experience as the school year closes. The added layer is I've been running trainings twice daily, with learners all over the world. I've got 2 more sessions, so the end is in sight, but it's not over.
As I've been working with both kids to wrap up the school year, I've been thinking about this happy/sad that comes with being in the middle of the end and the beginning. When the shelter-in-place orders first came out in March, no one could have imagined the world we knew would forever be changed and that we'd be entering a new normal. Though I've extremely proud of how well my whole family has been weathering this, Grey and I also have acknowledged that we're only just seeing hints of the beginning of what this new world will look like.
- Masks are now the norm, with me only not wearing one when outdoors where I can put a good amount of distance between myself and others. I don't see this changing for quite a while.
- Laptops are now are a requirement to learning, with me learning how to adapt asynchronous learning for learners with ADHD.
- Grey and I are very proud to be working for a company that is one of the first to implement testing for COVID-19. Leadership has gone to great extents to make sure all of us are safe, taking additional precautions so that Grey can continue working in the lab without fear of becoming sick.
- Additionally, I've been impressed by the community surrounding us. It's not perfect, but many are trying, working to be patient with each other, and finding ways to help one another.
- That said, we know that fear is still very high. I watched a man go into a full meltdown the other day because someone asked him to put his mask about his nose. It took a bit to calm him, as it was clear this was the final straw.
- Earlier today, I got an email from the school district about the projected budget shortfall and the plan to cut funding despite the crisis. It hasn't fully registered how bad all of this is, but the part that has registered is already scared about what is coming as I think this will be enough to break the system,
- All the while, the news has begun focusing on social media and how there's about the be a political fight. I wonder if this will mark a change in social media as we know it.
There's an oddness that comes with being in the thick of a transition. The uncertainty and unknown for the road ahead usually initiates grief, but if one stays in the thick long enough, reflection and processing begins to happen. A lot of which I've been starting to see. People are writing about the lessons learned from this experience, reflecting on their lives from before, and facing what demons they can no longer ignore while shedding things that they thought suited them but actually don't. I love hearing about ways others are trying to come together, whether through phone calls, doing social distancing get together, spending time enjoying each others' company, etc. I also love how people are learning to love being alone, finding ways to just be without embracing expectations of "self-improvement." Not being able to escape the thick can actually be a blessing.
That said, it's still uncomfortable. And my body is ready to be done with this period, moving on to the next check-point on this new road. But I also know that despite what I want, it's not in my control. All I can do to continue to exist in this middle between the end and the beginning. Soaking in the lessons so that when the beginning comes, I'm ready.