You don’t need to capitalize on this time. At least not in any sort of visible, profitable way.
You can take it slow and see what comes.
You can let reality sink in through your callused skin.
You can notice the magic flickering amongst the dust particles floating down around you while you hold a mug of tea.
You can feel hopeless and distracted and frustrated with wet tears being your only words.
You can putz around your house and wonder about your purpose.
What if the secret to making the most out of this current crisis, or any troubling circumstance for that matter, is found in pressing pause on our constant attempts to do exactly that– make something more of the situation?
We like to be victorious, don’t we? War language is our mother tongue, especially in difficult times. We’re fooling ourselves if we think the desire isn’t there to capitalize on this painful pandemic and come away undefeated.
Our consumerism habits kick in. We immediately jump to brainstorming ways we will overcome this, coming out on the winning side, and make a profit after all is said and done.
Consumerism tells us we can exploit just about anything for our gain without a second thought.
I invest in people, so I’ll get a return.
I utilize my time, so that I can make a profit.
I exhaust the earth and its resources, so that I can be happy.
And I take advantage of this situation, so that I can grow or at least move ahead a little.
I’m being careful these days to not fall into the trap of over-using the widespread stillness and communal ache around the globe for my gain.
I want to allow myself to lay exposed and wrecked and eventually be restored all in an organic fashion, pushing up through the hard soil because I need the warmth of the sunlight and the nurturing rain.
I want to actively resist the desire inside me to wrangle more projects while I’m sheltered-in-place. I don’t want to think I can conquer these current complexities or quarantine by being militant about joy or milking my days for all their worth.
I want to listen to the rumbling beneath my feet and across the earth, there’s an unmistakable rhythm rising that is different and desperately needed. I want to wobble and weep as I learn to love and live in unusual ways. And I want to do it all without having to use resistance, waging war with reality.
I don’t need to battle anything or beat anyone.
Making a profit, becoming proficient at a certain skill, killing it in home school, moving a business to the next level, or undertaking new projects makes us feel powerful, useful, and in control.
How can staying consumed with our own survival strategies, capitalizing on a quieting quarantine translate to success? It doesn’t.
But linking arms with the whole of humanity, holding our humble earth with tenderness and care as we always should have been, this is how we win.
