Our Collective Moment

See these miniature daffodils - they have washed their 

hands so many times they no longer have hands!

    Every age has had it's "where were you?" moment: the bombing of Pearl Harbor, the assassination of JFK, 9/11, and now coronavirus. Someday, ages and ages hence, your descendants (provided we don't go full zombie and take ourselves out of the gene pool) will sit at your knee and ask you to regale them with stories of "those days". You'll go all glassy-eyed and recount tales of WFH routines and those WTF moments of daily briefings and tall-tale-tellings on CNN. You'll try to explain what Zoom was and how the internet worked. (Folks, believe me when I tell you that we are truly at a cross-roads - we could go back to the dark ages or do a technology catapult into warp drive.)
    You'll tell the kiddies about hoarding toilet paper and late-night searches on Amazon for bread yeast and hand sanitizer. You'll recall terms that will not mean a darn thing to people of another age: 6-feet, N-95s, COVID-19, flattening the curve, chloroquine, and shelter-in-place.
    In the process of going through times like these, people often do not stop to take stock of what is happening around them. They float along in a daze, trying to score their next roll of TP or counting how many bottles of wine/liquor are left in the cupboard.
   I've been giving a lot of thought to the ways that coronavirus is altering my personal landscape. Here are a few ways:
    1) The meek shall inherit the earth. By meek, I mean: germophobes. I have long held the belief that all people, all over the world, are teeming with legions of germs. Sometimes, when I shake someone's hand, I do not use that hand for anything until I am able to wash it. This doesn't make me unable to participate socially with others, it only makes me grossed out at the thought of where that person's hand might have been. Furthermore, it is a proven fact that the more you like that person, the less lethal (or disgusting) their particular brand of germs will be, i.e. kissing, or sharing a drink with a friend. But, in this pandemic, germophobes like me will have their "told you so" moment and will secretly snicker behind our face masks that we no longer have to breathe the same bacteria and virus-filled air that you're breathing. We'll gleefully wash our hands and splash sanitizer in the presence of people and not have to slink away to the restroom to do so covertly.
    2) Introverts will finally be in their element. Face it, this is an extrovert's world. So much societal pressure balances on how well people do in public situations. Aside from cat ladies or computer programmers, everyone else is expected to behave normally in public and thoroughly enjoy themselves doing things with others. This was the camp I was firmly residing in. Until coronavirus. Now, I go to work and silently pray that the person passing by doesn't knock on my office door or expect me to do or say anything. Aside from a few close friends and family members, I don't miss people much at all. To use a phrase my husband has long stated: "I'm not anti-social, I just don't like a lot of people." Ding-ding-ding!
    3) Personal space is no longer a problem. I've known people who needed to be within inches of your face in order to speak with you. Incredibly, these people want to feel so connected with their friends that they must oblige you to feel the warmth of their breath. Now, we courteously cross the street rather than share a sidewalk with another human. I'm not saying that's a good thing, but anyone who has ever felt that hemmed-in feeling of close-talkers and mouth-breathers will never suffer again. Sometimes even six feet isn't enough.
    4) Difficult times do not bring out the good in people or accentuate the bad. People are as good or bad as they ever were. We may have opportunities to show our altruism or our selfishness, but neither of these are traits that were not within us in happier times. I always wrinkle my nose at people who say that they love, love, love their families. Of course, they do. What kind of monsters would they be if they didn't? The real test is whether they love people who are NOT their family. Do they love the annoying ones? Do they love the outcast? Do they love the unlovable? Those are the kinds of love that bear praising.
    As you go through your coronavirus moment, take stock of what is important to you. Think about all the ways that our lives changed and are continuing to change. Then go wash your hands.