Gifts: Given and Received
While it would be a vast understatement to say COVID-19 has been an “inconvenience” for most of us, it has provided me with some unexpected gifts. Before you get your panties in a bunch, no, I’m not equating this horrible virus to Santa Claus. I’m not talking about those kinds of gifts, exactly. This is undeniably the UGLIEST gift horse I have ever wanted to look in the mouth, but instead, I’ll grit my teeth, bare it, and willingly take it because, at the end of the day, they’re still gifts.
Time to work on this website has been one of those gifts. I would never go as far as saying we all have “a lot more free time” right now (God bless you, parents with distance-learning children), but I do. Being asked to stay home as much as possible has allowed me to tackle many projects I had been putting off, this website being one of them. It has been on my to-do list since January of this year. Not to mention things like cleaning out the basement, selling and giving away unused items, organizing the studio, and prioritizing exercise and healthy eating. At this point, approaching eight months of living in the belly of the beast, I am choosing to see the glass half-full.
Not getting to see our friends and family in person has sometimes felt like a punishment of sorts, but we have made an entirely new group of friends thanks to—wait for it—online video games, which has been another beautifully wrapped gift. People of my parent’s generation are horrified we “talk to strangers online,” but it has been an amazing way to connect with people across the country, and even Canada, too. We obviously play games together, but we also chat and share daily in our Discord group and are interested in each other’s health, well-being, and happiness. Two recently got new jobs, we all cheered. One started another year at university but he’s socially and physically distanced from his on-campus friends since he lives off-campus. We made sure he was more connected to our group than ever. One is an amazing crafter and we love marveling at her current projects, egging her on to send us more photos. Another’s dog passed away, another lives close to a recent fatal explosion site, and another moved across the country, all during this pandemic. And we were here for all of it. We were here for each other. It has been the perfect distraction and a genuine source of human connection during such an isolating, dark time. It doesn’t matter that we’ve never met in person. As someone in our group blatantly put it recently, “Gaming friends are still real friends.”
I have also had the pleasure of rekindling a friendship from high school, all thanks to—you guessed it—the internet. We haven’t seen each other since 2008 and saying we’ve “occasionally” kept in touch over the years would be a stretch, but the timing felt right for both of us to invest energy into the friendship again. I made the bad joke, “Are you sure the timing doesn’t just feel right because our mortalities are staring us in the face due to an asshole virus?” We laughed, he assured me this was not the case. Yet another gift, gladly accepted.
But seriously, you wanna talk about the unsung hero of the pandemic? Right after first responders, healthcare professionals, essential workers, scientists, vaccine developers, teachers, and once again, parents of school-aged children, it has to be the internet. Can you even imagine what this pandemic would be like if we didn’t have the internet? While the internet gets a bad rap for about 65,000,000 reasons, being able to connect with people when we can’t physically connect with people isn’t one of them. It has this amazing ability to make people feel less lonely when we’re all being asked (or ordered) to be alone.
Sometimes thinking about the state of the country—or if I want to stress myself out, the world—can be overwhelming, so instead, I focus on the smaller impacts I can make around me. When I think about empathy, I visualize a muscle that needs to be consistently worked out to stay in good shape, to stay healthy, otherwise, it will atrophy. While I’m not happy about the circumstances, I feel grateful for the hot, sweaty, exhausting workout of my empathy muscle recently. Gift #4.
I’m weirdly reminded of Andy Bernard’s quote from The Office regarding Angela’s request for “The Little Drummer Boy” as their first dance song at their wedding. He replies, “Yeah! I mean it’s a great song. I always thought it was bigger than Christmas anyway. You know?”
Yes, Andy, I do know.
I have no gift to bring, Pa rum pum pum pum…
Much like the little drummer boy, I feel overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation in front of me and feel ill-equipped to make a meaningful offering. I wish I could help everyone in need right now but what possibly could I do to make a significant dent? I am not a doctor or a nurse. A social worker, I am not. I don’t even own a sewing machine to make masks.
That's fit to give our king, Pa rum pum pum pum…
Seeing, reading about, and knowing so many people who have been affected by the virus, in one way or another, has put things in perspective and has forced me to slow down and focus on things that matter. Things like being generous with kindness, redefining what it really means to be in a jam, how hunger is increasingly becoming a new or worsening reality for many people right now, and what it means to be isolated from the rest of the world. So I have been offering what I have, offering what I can do, as simple or as small as it might be, hoping it’s enough because it’s all I have.
Shall I play for you? Pa rum pum pum pum…
I can’t rebuild a community member’s house that burned down earlier this year, but I can give her doubles of things I have to help refill her house after she rebuilds. I can’t bring someone back from the dead, but I can give a woman experiencing hard times $40 for gas so that she can drive to the hospital in Boston to say goodbye to her father’s body. I can’t eliminate hunger, but I can donate money to local food banks so that the people who need food get it. I can’t visit with elderly friends with underlying health conditions, but I can drop off homemade muffins on their front step and wave to them from the sidewalk. Offering what I can instead of being upset about what I can’t has made a world of difference for me, and hopefully for the people I’ve connected with along the way. I’m not sharing these stories because I’m looking for kudos, but more to highlight that the smallest things can sometimes be the big things, especially right now. There are small things we can do for each other that might bring a smile to someone’s face or lift them out of a funk, even just for ten minutes before the heaviness of the world rests upon their shoulders again. I encourage you to find a little pa rum pum pum pum this week and offer someone a gift that might bring them joy or peace, even if you just play your proverbial drum.
Me and my drum.