Locked down, but looking up

We are living through what feels like the defining moment of our times. Everything feels different today compared to even a week ago. In San Francisco, we're on an effective lockdown (more officially a shelter-in-place), told we can't even go for walks with friends, much less out for dinner or drinks. I keep going. I'll be able to join my colleagues and teammates for in-person meetings in the office. I'll be able to do a walking meeting around Salesforce Park or to Chinatown and back or to one of my favorite POPOS with one of the folks I manage or mentor. I'll be able to think about getting a happy hour beer with a friend before remembering that I need to hop on a bike and get home for dinner with my wife and our son. I'll be able to sneak a visit into Books and Bookshelves, or Dog Eared Books, on my way home, to add a book to the shelf of never-to-read books.

But instead, we're cooped up at home. We've moved one of our desks into the bedroom to create a quiet space for work, and to create additional play spaces for our son to explore in a much more confined environment than last week. We've been stocking up on canned goods and a few other essential home items slowly over the last few weeks, so feel ok there, albeit sincerely curious to know how the toilet paper supply chain is going to cope under its new stresses. We're incredibly lucky: we have jobs that can be done from home, a roof over our head, close-knit, if geographically dispersed, family, and a bit of cushion if things continue to worsen.

But still, like everyone else, we're worried. We're worried about how long this will last. We're worried about the health and safety of loved ones. We're worried about all the people whose jobs and livelihoods are threatened by this. We're worried about the ability of our health care system to cope with a worst case (or even base case) scenario. And we're worried about our leaders: we know that they know no more than us. How do you take decisive action on such limited information? How do you keep peoples' faith when we all want so badly to go on being human and doing things humans do?

It's easy to get dragged into a vortex of despairing and negative news. Let's face it: a lot of bad stuff is happening, and we have to take this virus seriously. The numbers of infected and dead go up. Restrictions on movement get tighter. Predictions about the scale of the impact get more alarming. The media we consume--whether mainstream, or social, or other--informs us of facts on the ground, but isn't always grounded in fact. We have to read with elevated skepticism and temperance, even as we stay up to date with the latest important news.

Times are tough, and the mood is generally dour. And yet: optimism and hope can serve as a balm for raw nerves in these times of uncertainty and fear. Not hope ungirded by reason, or optimism without sympathy for those in pain. But I personally find it beneficial for my own mental and physical well-being to think about the silver lining, if there will be any, of an event that has already wrought enormous negative impact on the lives and well-being of humans the world over.

Maybe through this, we'll all learn to be a little more patient, forgiving, and empathic with our fellow souls. In the Old Normal, it was easy to forget that people had distractions or other priorities besides work. While we valued relationship-building and connecting on non-work stuff, it wasn't so hard to compartmentalize. In the New Normal, our colleagues' kids join conference calls, and we're ok with that. We can openly acknowledge that everyone has distractions that mean certain things won't be finished on time. We can finally actually mean it when we say people should prioritize their health and family when it conflicts with work. In the Old Normal, maybe we got to see what some of our colleagues' tastes in wall art were. In the New Normal, we learn their spouse's bathrobe color.

Maybe through this, we'll become better neighbors. This weekend, my family and I went for a pre-dinner, cabin fever-relieving walk around Eureka Valley. We ran into several of our neighbors with small kids our son's age. For once, we stopped and talked at some length, to check in on each other and see how the other was doing. We commiserated on the challenges of finding toilet paper, and generally staying sane, and measured. One neighbor offered general, unconditioned help if we found ourselves in a spot unable to leave the house. I offered suggestions on the best way to get back to our street with a stroller. We were, for once, well, neighborly with each other.

Maybe through this, we'll literally stop and smell the flowers more often. Even in the last few days of working from home, I've gotten into somewhat of a routine that includes new, short, walks around Eureka and Noe Valleys. I already knew about the lemon tree on 21st Street that our son obsesses over when passing. But I had forgotten about the lower exit off Kite Hill onto Clover Lane. I knew about the older couple who tended a beautiful garden a couple blocks up from us, but I hadn't noticed that their house is stacked with books from room to room. I knew that people lived in the houses around us, but for once there was life in most of their windows in the middle of a Monday.

Maybe through this, we'll start to rebuild the broken bonds across party, class, race, and geography. This virus, while clearly more dangerous for the elderly and those with underlying health risks, does not seem to discriminate across other characteristics that we too often ourselves use to define each other, often down. The measures that are being taken at all levels of government amount to a war footing. Wars are generally bad. But wars against common enemies can unite a people with disparate interests and concerns. This virus is a common enemy we should all unite against. I don't think it's crazy to think that this fight will be any less uniting than others in our country's history.

Maybe through this, we'll learn new ways of working together that we can keep once we have a "handle" on things. Working from home has its benefits: no commute, fewer distractions (for some), more time with family and loved ones, and more flexibility on when and where work is done. It has its costs, too, primarily in the loss of human interaction and all the benefits therein. But on the whole, most of us could do with more flexibility in how we get our work done, and more time with loved ones. One can only hope that we use this time as a testing and proving ground for a working model that provides greater flexibility without giving up the benefits of face-to-face time.

Maybe through all this, we'll have a new generation of national heroes for our kids. There are already examples: doctors and other health care workers who either raised the alarm or who are serving the sick among us, at risk to themselves and their families. There will be more: local, state, and federal leaders who lead with grace, dignity, and clarity of purpose; religious leaders to provide calm guidance and perspective to their followers and others; and friends, colleagues, and strangers who act selflessly and heroically on needs great and small. Those people are among us now, already doing the work that needs to be done. Some of those people will emerge as memorable role models for our kids, though most will be remembered only by those whose lives they improved. Keep a look out for them, and say thank you.

Maybe through all this, we'll understand ourselves better. The search for meaning continues unabated. Lots of people I've talked to have told me they have extra time on their hands: time not spent on the train, or time not spent chattering between meetings. Much of this time is filled by new burdens, be they child care-related, or general emotional angst. But there's also an opportunity to double-down on our personal journeys. Personally, I'm drawn to learning about and studying past political leaders, great and flawed. This weekend, I watched some early 1960s footage of David Susskind's interviews of Harry S Truman, and I started listening to Evan Thomas' biography of Richard Nixon (Being Nixon). I ordered a copy of Charles de Gaulle's war memoirs. Other people no doubt will find themselves drawn to scifi, or the history of plagues, or philosophy. But it is my hope that all of us fill any void with pursuits that help us better understand both ourselves and our abilities as a species to overcome. 

I know that over the coming weeks, there may be bad news and there may be horrible news. We will need to be there for each other, in best case and in worst case scenarios. I have confidence that we can rise to the occasion, but only if we believe.