There is hardly a person among us whose life is not radically different from the way it was less than two months ago. Our jobs, whether we still have one, or we lost one, or we’ve retired from one, have morphed in ways we would not have thought possible.
We’re figuring out as we go how best to live within our new limitations. And recreation – what’s that? For all the right reasons our playgrounds, gyms and playing fields are empty. We’re happy for those children on bikes with a parent. We’re so sad for the many who are not as lucky.
The things we thought define us may no longer do that. Introverts see more of their neighbors than they have in ages. Extroverts miss the places they gathered.
Those who were alone before are looking for ways to avoid being lonely. Those who share households with others may be feeling cramped. Our little habits, which were hardly noticeable before, may now chafe and irritate our household companions, and their little habits absolutely need to be called out and exterminated. Theirs, in particular, need to stop!
Our attention to appearance has slipped, perhaps. Who needs to change out of a sweatshirt and jeans, even to visit the doctor, or go to an important meeting, when all that happens remotely? Who needs makeup when it’s hidden under a mask? Who has a nice haircut? Anyone who does risks being chastised for breaking stay-at-home orders. And the occasional dusting and vacuuming we used to do seems to happen less and less, as there’s no one to vacuum for, except the folks we live with. They don’t seem to care, or perhaps they’d pitch in.
Our relationship with our “stuff” is one thing that may actually have taken a turn for the better. Taking a walk on trash day tells a story. Basements and attics are being emptied of old elementary school papers and bric-a-brac from children who long ago flew the nest. Toys and old lamps, chairs and file cabinets sit on the curb with “Free” signs taped to them. Boxes wait in open garages or on porches for the first opportunity to be donated to a good cause.
People are trying respectfully to avoid running into each other. So “keeping up with the Joneses” is no longer a thing.
When we don’t see things like the latest gadget or brand-new items that will become next year’s junk, we don’t crave those as much for ourselves. When nobody is making a fashion statement on their walk around the block, and the latest accessories never made it out of production, we don’t mind, because we humans mainly want things when we see others with them.
Yes, this is terrible for retailers and purveyors of “stuff,” but for us it is a golden opportunity to scale back our insatiable appetite for the next new disposable thing.
When we’re not shaking our heads in disbelief at the drastic changes around us, our stripped-down world actually does give us opportunities to re-imagine how we want to live. We can listen to leaders on climate science. Their message is dire, but our future and that of our children and grandchildren depend upon it.
We are told that our personal energy and resource consumption is only a small fraction of what needs to change, but we know in our hearts that we need to start there, with ourselves and our own expectations. We need to do an about-face, cutting our resource consumption while rethinking our sources of energy. We need to reinvest in a service economy, and scale back on our “stuff” economy.
Most importantly at this moment, we need new leadership. Our leaders need to be fair, honest and not self-serving. Wouldn’t that be an amazing change?
We need to elect leaders who are not blaming others for their own failures, throwing up smokescreens distracting us from the reality of our situation, and consolidating their own wealth and power. We need leaders who are willing to focus on the basic needs of our brothers and sisters, and the basic message of our changing climate. And to elect new leaders and change our course; we need free, fair and safe elections in the face of this pandemic.
So there’s plenty to do while we’re at home in suspended animation, and it’s time to get busy on this.
(Millie LaFontaine lives in Concord.)