Maybe you’re young and healthy and/or unafraid. Maybe you don’t believe in the virus that’s sweeping through the world. I don’t exactly relate, but I don’t want to waste time arguing with you on the internet (or, more likely, scrolling through your posts, biting my tongue, stewing silently). In my better moments, I can imagine you feeling as if you’re being yelled at to evacuate, by people you don’t trust, in a language you don’t understand. That makes me slightly more compassionate toward you.
I hope you’re out of the building, at least. I hope you’re home, socially distancing, actually, for the sake of the most vulnerable, the medical system, your health…even if you feel just fine. Even if you’d rather be anywhere else. Even if you don’t really believe in any pandemic anyway…here you are.
Can I suggest some ways to spend your doom-interrupted days?
Wash your hands. (Just kidding.)
Open all your blinds; if the weather is nice, open your windows. If there is a sunbeam on the floor, sit in it until you feel it in your body. Whether or not you’re in the company of children, build a blanket fort. Bake something that makes your whole house smell good. Eat it off a fancy plate. Read a book. Take a nap. Listen to a podcast. Put music on and dance around your kitchen. Sing. FaceTime a friend. Play a game. Doodle your day, even if badly. If you have pets, play with them. If you don’t, find one to follow on YouTube or Instagram. Look out your window and see if you know the names for all the plants and animals (or buildings and streets) you see there; if you don’t, learn their names. Take a walk. Drink a cold glass of water. Go to the good places on the internet (they’re the ones that don’t make you want to scream). Write one nice thing. Clean out your closet. Watch a documentary. Look up a poem or a prayer; memorize it so that nobody can take it from you, ever. Stretch. Watch the sun set. Watch what happens after (spoiler: night; but after, morning).