by Charis Weathers
Some parts of the world have been hit HARD by epidemics in my lifetime. But not here, not in the North America. Most of my generation and younger have never faced anything like the coronavirus. Nothing that would cause mass isolation for weeks at a time, possibly months at a time, with everyone needing to play their part in order for this virus to be subdued and decrease the hospital crush that we know is coming.
“That we know is coming.” As of today, here in Washington state we’ve had fifty deaths, half of the total for US casualties. Many families already know the grief and loss. Almost a 1000 people in Washington are already in the midst of a desperate war in their body to fight off this cure-less invasion - and these are only the confirmed cases.
Anxiety has settled in, to varying degrees. It’s remarkable that this is happening during Lent, a season that starts with Ash Wednesday during which we remind ourselves that “we are dust and to dust we shall return.” This is typically a very wise annual ritual in that we have the opportunity to reflect on our lives, how we’re living, and the fact that it’ll all end one day. We give this one day in the church. But in COVID-19 it’s like we are stuck in Ash Wednesday.
Every day we are faced with the uncertainty of disease - will we get it, or possibly worse, will we pass it on to others who can’t survive it? How bad will it get? Will the possible worst case scenario of over a million deaths in the US alone come true? Will our economy collapse entirely? Is there anything we can hold on to as a surety right now?
With this rise in anxiety comes a rise in collective stress. This increase in stress for everyone means, for me, that I have a shorter fuse, have a hard time moving on things, and just don’t feel like I’m okay.
Because it helps me to feel like I have some sort of control when I know more facts, and because it seems vital to talk about how we’re all feeling, yesterday Echoes hosted an online panel discussion with two experts - one a medical doctor, and one a behavioral health consultant. We needed to postpone our regularly scheduled ‘hamster church guest because he was going to play the harp, and we really want to experience that in person. So in the midst of trying to offer something helpful into the world we hosted this panel. We couldn’t meet together, but we could bring some wisdom to a group larger than our own. That felt good.
Some of the content, though, certainly didn’t feel good. The reiteration that there is no cure, that we’ve gone beyond the point of being able to stop this thing, that we’re all in a constant state of worry - these weren’t fun to hear, but they are also super important to hear right now as we all need to do our parts to suppress the spread of COVID-19.
“we all need to do our parts”
What was also good to hear, however, is the reminder that we need to remind ourselves that because we are in a state of stress we need to take extra measures to be compassionate - with others and with ourselves. This can be hard in normal times, and these times are certainly not normal. There is also the potential that we could see more clearly that we are all actually connected to one another. Can we use this time to re-learn how to work together instead of against each other? It’ll take a lot of us practicing this to make it stick on a larger scale, and frankly, not many individuals are good at it to begin with. So there’s work to do, even in the midst of social distancing.
Below is a video of last night’s zoom call. Dr Jennie McLaurin and Josh Whaley demonstrated a generosity of time that I hope we can all practice in some form or fashion. This conversation contains helpful tips and important medical facts about COVID-19. Feel free to give it a watch when you’re in social distancing mode. Maybe it can actually help bring us together.
Even though we are stuck in Ash Wednesday, the hope that rises from death, Easter, is coming. Let’s hasten that hope and new life, shall we?
