A Test of Character
The world has asked much of us over the last few months. We had to stop traveling. We had to shut down our businesses. We had to take our kids out of school.
More was asked of some. Doctors worked round-the-clock shifts. Businesses closed forever. All their employees lost their jobs. (The Chronicle posts lists of restaurants that will not reopen). How are all these people supposed to pay their rent?
A very close friend posted about what is still asked of us. Judge James Horwitz argues,
A version of ‘personal responsibility’ that looks like ‘I’ll take responsibility for my risk, and you take responsibility for your risk,’ … neglects the reality of a pandemic. Responsibility may be personal— but risk is communal. Everyone can both get sick with the virus and pass it on to someone else. A person who gets infected while packed into an overcrowded bar can pass the disease to a supermarket cashier who is otherwise steadfastly avoiding high-risk situations. A healthy young person whose sense of personal responsibility leaves him comfortable spending a leisurely evening in a bustling restaurant can infect a roommate who works in a nursing home.”
Why are we asked to wear surgical or face masks in public, to practice social distancing, and to observe self-quarantines? Because these practices are not for us as individuals alone, but for the protection of others.
So, it’s a test of our character. I hate character tests. I never quite measure up.
But, I’m trying. In the face of all of this, I’m trying to think of others first. It’s easier when you see someone out and about with scared eyes who might be more vulnerable. Those eyes remind me to care, not for myself or my own cynical opinions, but for that one. The stranger.
Learning
As you age, how do you insure that you continue to enlarge your universe? How do you educate yourself? What do you read? How do you grow? That is our dilemma when we grow old, and we all find our own answers.
Through Work
Some of us stay busy: you choose to (or have to) work, and you grow through your work. In 37 years of practicing law, new revelations and a quick rush of adrenaline have regularly spurred that growth for me.
But there were times when I hit the proverbial brick wall, and stagnated, and then made myself evolve. I would slowly change the type of law I practiced to some new area. A couple of times, it seemed as if I had begun a whole new career. That doesn’t work for everyone. I know attorneys who tried to change, and couldn’t, so they left the law and went to full-time writing. I’m very close to that myself.
Through Shakespeare
Over the last decade, I’ve developed another way to grow and learn. I immerse myself fully in a subject. One subject, all year, intensely. Last year it was Shakespeare. Thirty-one plays. Listen to lectures on the play on the internet, then watch videos of the play, then read the play. Attend performances of the plays when available. A full twelve months of Shakespeare. It was a wonderful experience. I was glad when it was over.
Through Lock-Picking
I’ve done more bizarre subjects. I spent one summer learning how to pick locks. Hours on YouTube watching the videos, and then I’d buy a box of old combination or key locks from the dollar store. Spend all day with my little kit trying to pick them.
My wife didn’t appreciate that summer. We were taking a cruise and as soon as we checked into our cabin, I announced I was going to prove to her how good I was by picking the lock on our cabin safe. I had studied it many times, knew the tricks and understood the probabilities of Cruise Ship Cabin Safes. (That’s a whole separate thing, if you didn’t know, and I was sure I’d learned it).
I shut the safe door and began my effort. My wife stood back, as far back as she could. You know how small a cruise ship cabin is, but she stood back, with her arms crossed and no faith that her husband knew what he was doing (not the first time she showed that lack of faith).
I spun it for a while and set off some sensor. I continued and the cabin automatically locked until a cabin steward came to unlock our door and reset the system. My wife would have been embarrassed if she hadn’t been laughing at me so hard. I wasn’t quite the expert I had convinced myself I was, and her lack of faith had been justified.
At the end of the summer, my wife asked me, “Are you finished with your little crime-spree, now?” Yes. Yes I was. I announced to her that I’d learned all I needed to about locks.
“Good,” she said. “It’s time to study something else.”
Simple Pleasures
We were supposed to be at Mount Fuji in Japan today. That didn’t happen. We had scheduled spending Melinda’s birthday exploring Kyoto: wandering through temples, eating in little restaurants and drinking in closet-size bars, all down streets narrower than most alleys here.
Instead, we are dealing with the pandemic at home, and we appreciate the simpler, truer qualities of life. After the hard lockdown, I took my wife last week to her first restaurant outing in months. She was more excited about that little outing than she would have been at a kaiseki dinner.
You are living through this, too. You know the simple joys of the first tastes of reentering your normal life. Walking down a tree-covered avenue in the park. Relishing your first Tex-Mex meal in months. (I noticed Suzy Lemaster, a friend in Amarillo, bragging on Facebook about her and John’s trip for Tex-Mex this weekend). Melinda was giddy for her first margarita at Houston’s El Tiempo. Nothing special, but better to her after all this time locked up than a cup of sake.
What is better at any time than one of life’s simple pleasures — other than enjoying a simple pleasure you have long been without? Not much is needed for the simple life. Whether it’s looking out the window at happy people in the park, or the mouth-watering sensation of fresh, hot bread dripping with butter, or a retreat into oneself after a busy, hectic day of teleconferences, or fresh, plump blackberries in season, or staying up late with a page-turner by Sue Hawley, or the satisfaction of doing a good turn — these simple pleasures feel more rejuvenating than a million bucks in the bank.
As much as I’d have liked to, we don’t need to travel to Japan to feel good. We don’t need exotic locations. We have so much available to us right now, so many accessible and ordinary pleasures right here where we are.
The events of the world of late are a powerful reminder of this. Don’t ignore your simple pleasures.
Amor fati.
Mother’s Day: Guest Blog by Melinda Little
I love Mother’s Day. It’s a springtime holiday so the weather is usually nice. The day often involves brunch — and who doesn’t love a good brunch? When the kids were little we usually celebrated Mother’s Day at a ball field – softball or baseball — either at tournament or a practice — or both. I never minded because I loved watching my kids play sports. The other moms on the teams were my friends. The weather was usually fantastic – the last of the lovely days before the Houston summer came roaring in like a fire ball.
Russell has always struggled with the month May because not only does he have to deal with Mother’s Day, but our anniversary and my birthday also fall in May. When I was much younger, he was right to fear. I was a little brat. As I age I have mellowed – seeing my family is enough for me these days.
Since my kids have become adults, my sweet daughter, Katie, and my son-in-law, Patrick, usually wrangle my sons, Will and David, into doing something to celebrate the day. She assigns them tasks and they show up – mostly on time. The youngest, David, usually brings me flowers, but Will brings various things. This year it was my favorite brand of prosecco for mimosas. (Smart man!)
Last year we did not celebrate Mother’s Day together because Russell and I were in Oak Harbor, Washington with David for his fiancé Rebecca’s funeral. It was a terrible day, but we were there with David to support him. Being a mom is the most rewarding aspect of my life, but it can also be the hardest. All of my children have had to endure pain for different reasons at different stages of life – some too personal to share in a blog. Watching them go through it and not being able to do anything more than stand by them, just being there, is the most helpless feeling.
While time does not heal all wounds, time does ease grief. This year we celebrated Mother’s Day again together at my daughter’s house. Our sweet little granddaughter, Vivienne, looked as pretty as a picture. My daughter provided brunch. Katie, Patrick and Vivienne gave me a plant in the most adorable pot. David brought me flowers, Will brought all the fixings for the mimosas. We sat outside taking turns trying to ride David’s motorized skateboard and watched Will fly a drone and video us from above. We enjoyed the sun and each other. We took a moment in time to celebrate our family. We remembered family members no longer with us with funny stories and laughed at the things Rebecca would have said. It was a lovely day.
My heart is full and I didn’t even have to do the dishes.
Our New Normal: A Guest Blog by Melinda Little
It was a glorious day with lots of blue sky and dry, warm temperatures. Russell and I were at the park walking the dogs together, as we do often these days. There were more people at the park than we have seen in a while, but it was still easy to maintain plenty of social distance. It felt so normal: I think we are all ready for some normal.
I Am not a Lover of Routine…
Oddly, I am not someone who loves to have routines. My daily work schedule in almost every job I have ever had has never followed a script. Yes, there routine tasks I must do for work, but I often come to work planning to do one thing, only to have all my plans upended — and I thrive on that. My mom used to say that I was like this even before I could talk. She said she could see the wheels in my head spinning: I was always planning something new, rarely entertained with one toy for long.
Russell often gets frustrated with me because I like to change things up so often. I don’t like to watch the same television shows; I don’t like to reread a book just because I loved it; and I certainly don’t have a rotation of meals I cook every week. I don’t really like to have a schedule on the weekend at all, which drives Russell nuts. I might say in the morning, “Let’s go for dinner at El Tiempo tonight,” but by 4 o’clock have something completely different in mind!
I can’t say this will change after our quarantine ends, but I will acknowledge I have appreciated and needed the routines we have had during this time – some new and some old – because they have made me feel like things are almost normal and have helped me keep connections to family and friends.
But some Routines are Lifelines.
These include the simple things Russell and I already did every day: drink coffee together in the morning before I left for work or eat dinner together at the table while sharing stories from our days. These have always been routines I treasured, but now I hang on to them for dear life.
I have a long-standing text conversation that I have had with four other women. These four friends mean the world to me. We talk about all manner of things from work to families to just sharing hilarious TikTok videos. They are often the first people I communicate with each morning when I wake and the last I talk to before I go to sleep. It is a lifeline for me during quarantine.
I have also enjoyed some new routines like playing bridge online with my bridge group – yes, the card game our parents and grandparents played. I have played with this group of women for over ten years on Sundays, but now we play using an app called Trickster while meeting virtually on Zoom and sharing cocktails just like before. We don’t have to wait until Sunday anymore – sometimes it just happens at the last minute, but it has been a Godsend to me.
I miss the routine of going to my office and I miss my work family. We all miss each other. My boss now hosts a daily virtual check in with all of us – this team of people that I would be friends with even if I didn’t work with them. It has become one of the highlights of my day. I look forward to seeing their faces and hearing what they have been up to. Some days we even dress up to match our virtual backgrounds!
Vivi: the Highlight of the Week
But, the highlight of this week and the part that felt most normal was getting to spend several hours with our granddaughter. It was a joy to see our daughter, Katie, and our son in law, Patrick, when we picked up our sweet Vivienne. Time flew by as we played some games where Vivi made up all the rules. I could not tell you exactly what we were playing, but I laughed a lot. We picked up her favorite, Shake Shack, and had a picnic in the park. Russell pulled her in our wagon after lunch as she yelled for him to go faster and faster and faster! It was a super normal day that didn’t feel very much like quarantine. We made memories and, for a moment, came out from under the dark shadow that has been over us for the last several weeks.
I have realized that these little moments that make us feel normal can have that effect. Life is funny like that. People need connection. Even when things seem bleak our connections lift some of that weight away.
What are the things you are doing to find your normal and to find your joy? Please share – maybe we can find some fun things to do.
Day ??? of the COVID-19 Quarantine — A Guest Blog by Melinda Little
Houston, Texas, April 19, 2020
Greetings from the inside, where I remain constantly — well, constantly except for essential runs to Costco and Trader Joes and my daily walk (weather permitting). I am pleased to report that we are no longer running out of toilet paper or paper towels thanks to last Thursday’s Costco run.
Thursday was the first time I have been in a car in three weeks. I have not filled my car with gas in a month and, even after my trip to Costco, my tank is almost full.
I’m not new to working from home
I worked from home for over ten years so it doesn’t feel that strange to me to be working from home again. For much of that time I was on the road, but there were also weeks where I did not travel, having meetings on conference calls instead. It was a respite for my road-weary traveler self. The first few weeks of quarantine sort of felt like that.
I left my travel job almost five years ago. Technology for virtual meetings has gotten a lot better in that time. Since the quarantine I have learned to do things a little differently and flexed some “virtual” muscles. Russell and I signed up for a Zoom account for personal use to chat virtually with our family and friends. After a couple of tries my bridge group discovered a good bridge app so that we could play bridge on iPads while Zooming on our laptops. I have even participated in a couple of Zoom happy hours. And, I have become well-versed in Microsoft Teams -– the software I use for work. Sharing my screen and using the chat function is fun — and seeing the crazy backgrounds people use during meetings is hilarious!
I am watching TV shows I probably would not have watched in a non-quarantined world. I binged Tiger King along with the rest of the country; I caught up on TV series I had put off before, too tired to get involved after commuting home, cooking dinner and doing my evening chores.
But I am getting restless
But, like everyone else I know, I am starting to get restless. I am ready for this to end, even though I don’t see an end in sight. On social media people have begun to shift from funny memes and parody COVID songs to posts about protests over the stay-at-home orders and to sad and disgruntled posts about missing graduations and proms. This virus has taken much from us. It’s not simply that we are stuck at home. Some of us have lost jobs, some of us have endless virtual conference calls, some are trying to cope with homeschooling children while working full time on virtual conference calls: all of us are confused and uncertain of when this will end. We miss friends, family, grandchildren, restaurants, people, hugging and socializing. We feel powerless. It is scary.
Humor has been a great way to help us to cope. The number of texts I get regularly from friends with a funny meme or video from Instagram, TikTok or Facebook has increased exponentially, because the free time we used to use to do the things we liked doing is now spent on digital media platforms. Heck, I barely even knew what TikTok was before all this started.
The importance of grace
On Facebook, I follow Jen Hatmaker, author, inspirational speaker, mother of five and fellow Texan. She is hilarious and vulnerable all at once. She goes live on Facebook often. About week ago after a tough day with her teenage children she live-streamed herself hiding fully clothed in her dry bath tub using a trash can as a table to hold her giant glass of wine! Last Friday afternoon she went live, sharing through tears how tough it had been for her and her teenagers on that particular day. She went on to discuss how no one was prepared for this very unexpected COVID-19 situation and consequently it was almost impossible to be our very best selves right now. She talked about the importance of grace and urged her audience to forgive more quickly — even when we don’t feel like it — and to say “I am sorry” — even when we are not yet ready to do so.
Her post moved me. Every day, I am trying to live in the moment, but it’s hard to do that all the time. Besides offering grace to my family and friends, I am also trying to offer it to myself –- something I have been working on for years.
I will end my blog today with a reminder to show those you love some extra grace during this time and with a reflection a good friend shared on Facebook this week.
Stay safe and stay healthy!
We Are Not In the Same Boat…
I heard that we are all in the same boat, but it’s not like that. We are in the same storm, but not in the same boat. Your ship could be shipwrecked and mine might not be. Or vice versa.
For some, quarantine is optimal. A moment of reflection, of re-connection, easy in flip flops, with a cocktail or coffee. For others, this is a desperate financial and family crisis.
Some who live alone are facing endless loneliness. For others it is a time of peace, rest & time with their mother, father, sons & daughters.
With the $600 weekly increase in unemployment some are bringing in more money to their households than they were when working. Others are working longer hours for less money due to pay cuts or loss in sales.
Some families of 4 just received $3400 from the stimulus while other families of 4 saw $0.
Some were concerned about getting a certain candy for Easter while others were concerned whether there would be enough bread, milk and eggs for the weekend.
Some want to go back to work because they don’t qualify for unemployment and are running out of money. Others want to kill those who break the quarantine.
Some are home spending 2-3 hours/day helping their children with online schooling while others are spending 2-3 hours/day educating their children on top of a 10-12 hour workday.
Some have experienced near-death from the virus, some have lost someone to it and some are not sure if their loved ones are going to make it. Others don’t believe this is a big deal.
Some have faith in God and expect miracles during this 2020. Others say the worst is yet to come.
So, friends, we are not in the same boat. We are going through a time when our perceptions and needs are completely different.
Each of us will emerge, in our own ways, from this storm. It is very important to see beyond what is seen at first glance. Not just looking, actually seeing.
We are all on different ships during this storm experiencing very different journeys.
Unknown author
Remember we all have our own stories: work on helping build people up; don’t judge them for how they handle things.